Seventeen #2
I watched as Gathe pulled out a bottle of my favorite red wine.
They really did have everything here. My brain slowly registered that Ransom had known not only my choice of wine, but the brand I preferred.
It was the only cabernet that I kept in my apartment.
Had I told him that at some point? I couldn’t remember, but then it was hard to think about anything with Miss Boobs USA in the room.
Gathe held up the bottle for me to inspect, and I nodded. I was afraid if I said yes or thank you , my voice would sound funny due to the thickening in my throat.
“Cover your tits, Cass,” Locke said without even looking in their direction. His focus was on the television now.
I could see Ransom grab a shirt off the chair from the corner of my eye and toss it at her. I swallowed hard and stared at the screen as if I knew what was going on.
“You hungry?” Ransom asked, and I wasn’t sure who he was asking. Me or her.
Since I wasn’t looking in his direction, I didn’t respond. I was no longer hungry anyway.
“Noa.”
Hearing him say my name—my real name—in that deep, husky voice of his only heightened the turmoil of emotion currently churning inside me.
I couldn’t ignore him now. I had to speak. Not make an idiot of myself. Placing my well-rehearsed smile on my face, I turned my head to him. “I’m fine,” I replied as pleasantly as possible, then went back to watching the football game.
Something happened on the screen, and Forge groaned as Gathe began to chuckle.
“I warned you,” Locke drawled, but didn’t look away from the action.
“You’ve not eaten all day,” Ransom said, entirely too close to me now.
I held my smile in place.
“I ate on my flight here,” I told him.
“That was twelve hours ago.”
Well, I lost my appetite at the sight of Big Boobs Sally.
Gathe was in front of me now, holding out a glass. “Here you go.”
Reaching up, I took it from him. “Thank you.” I wished it were possible for me to chug it down without witnesses.
“Come on,” Ransom ordered. “You’re eating something.”
I did not want to eat, and he didn’t get to tell me what I was going to do.
“I’m fine.”
“Shakespeare, do I need to carry your ass into the kitchen?” he asked, the warning clear in his tone.
Not wanting the entire room to witness that, I stood up. I’d force something down if that would make him stop talking to me. Then I could go to bed. Or at least close myself off in the bedroom.
“She’s a big girl. She can handle feeding herself.” A feminine voice made me tense up more.
“Come here, Cass,” Forge said, patting his leg. “Stay out of that shit, or you’ll set him off.”
The girl didn’t argue as she sauntered around the sofa, wearing the T-shirt that Ransom had worn earlier today. Why did that have to be painful? I was a grown woman, for God’s sake. How long was a crush supposed to last?
“Giving you to three, Shakespeare,” he warned behind me.
I licked my dry lips and turned to walk toward the door I’d entered through, not sure if that was the correct way or not.
When Ransom said nothing, but I heard his footsteps following me, I assumed I’d gone in the right direction.
Seeing as I had no clue where to go from here, I paused and stepped to the side.
“I don’t know where the kitchen is.”
Ransom moved past me and smirked as our eyes met. “You’re sulking because I’m making you eat?”
No, I was sulking for reasons I would never admit.
“I’m not hungry, and your friend is correct. I’m a big girl.” I’d sounded normal. I wanted to pat myself on the back for that.
“You’re hungry,” he replied, then began walking again.
Glaring at his excellent backside, I followed him.
I should have stayed at the hotel. I could still go stay at one. I didn’t have to stay here. I’d be more comfortable alone. Away from this. Watching Ransom live his life.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d want or if you’d wake up before morning,” he said as he turned and entered a luxurious kitchen. “I saved you some of everything we had.”
Was that before or after your topless female showed up?
Thankfully, he couldn’t hear my snarky internal comments.
“Thank you,” I replied, but I could hear the clipped tone in my voice.
He apparently did, too, because he glanced back at me with his brows drawn together.
Oops.
“You okay?” he asked.
No. I want to leave .
It was easier not to think about this part of his life when I lived in Manhattan and read his texts.
“Did one of them say something to upset you?” he asked, turning fully around now as his frown turned into a scowl.
I sighed and shook my head. “No. They were very nice.”
He continued to study me. “Is the stuff with your mom getting to you?” His tone softened as concern took the place of anger.
Why did he have to do this? Turn into the guy who cared. The one I couldn’t get out of my head.
“It should be, but no. There is nothing wrong.” Liar .
Ransom crossed his arms over his broad chest, and his tattooed biceps flexed, making the muscles in them pop out even more.
He was what romance novels were made of …
well, in looks at least. Which was why so many women loved him in the ones I had written.
Tearing my gaze off his well-defined arms, I looked past him toward the long bar space.
“If you’ll point me in the direction of the food, I can handle the rest. You have company you should get back to.”
Okay, that had sounded a touch sarcastic. Damn my mouth.
When he said nothing, I chanced a glance at him to see he had one eyebrow slightly arched and his eyes narrowed.
“Cass?” he asked, as if that was ridiculous.
Yes. Cass.
“Unless there are more topless females hiding outside, awaiting your return.” Oh, for the love of God, could I not shut up?!
“No,” he drawled. “She is the only other female here, other than you, at the moment.”
Great. She’d been outside, almost naked with Ransom. Now she was sitting on Forge’s lap. She was a real winner, that Cass. And I was a judgmental bitch, apparently.
“Yes, well, then you should get back in there. Forge looks like he may swoop in and take your woman.” I had meant that to sound jovial, but the snark was strong with me tonight and coming out loud and clear.
“Shakespeare, you know me better than that. I don’t have a woman.
I don’t want a woman.” He emphasized the last sentence, leaning slightly closer to me as he did it.
“I have you. That’s the only female I intend to keep around.
Cass is a dancer at a place in Jackson we frequent.
She comes here from time to time to fuck. And not just me.”
Okay. What the heck did I say to that?
Ransom’s eyes seemed to be reading my damn soul as he stared at me. I needed to respond, but I was out of words.
“You know I like my options open,” he added with a crooked grin. “And seeing as you and I aren’t gonna be fucking, I needed someone here that I could fuck, smack on the ass, and send away.”
I swallowed hard, hating that it didn’t help my jealousy, but only made me ache more for something I couldn’t have.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” I replied.
He tilted his head down toward me. “Then why does it feel like I do?”
The scent of nicotine should not smell that good. But mixed with whatever that was he wore that made him smell like something I wanted to wrap around myself, like a cocoon, it was intoxicating. I tried not to inhale deeply and get caught sniffing him.
“I don’t know.” I tried to sound nonchalant, but my voice was slightly breathless.
I blamed the way he smelled. It was another unfair advantage. Ransom Carver seemed to have a mountain of those pesky things.
His eyes dropped to my mouth, and I watched as his nostrils flared. Oh God, that was hot.
“I wanna keep you, Shakespeare. What we have. So, stop …” He paused and pulled in a ragged breath. “Stop looking like a fucking snack,” he finished, then tore his eyes off me, turned, and stalked farther into the room.
I, however, didn’t move. Ransom had just called me a snack. Me. Noa Raines. A snack. I fought hard to keep the massive grin off my face.
“Now, Shakespeare, sit your ass down and let me feed you.”
At this point, I might do just about anything that man asked me to.