Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
STELLA
Iwas once again sitting in the passenger seat of Weston Scott’s truck, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. I had a duffle bag filled to near splitting with clothes in the back seat thanks to my mom and Serenity insisting on “helping me pack.”
“I like your family,” West said into the quiet of the cab, pulling me from my muddled thoughts.
I turned to look at him in the lights of the dash, mystified by his announcement. “You like my family? You know we’re all criminals, right?”
He shrugged casually. “Meh.”
“Meh?” I asked in confusion. “Meh? That’s all you have to say? The first time we met, you were doing a job for the cops.”
“I was working that job because I can do things the police can’t.”
My brow furrowed. “What does that even mean?”
“We’re good at what we do because we don’t necessarily adhere to . . . every law out there.”
“Huh.” Well I hadn’t been expecting that. “I guess that explains why you were so cool with the whole, catching-me-stealing-dudes’-wallets thing.”
“Well, that and the dress you were wearing the first time I saw you.”
I let out a bark of laughter that sent a stabbing pain through my middle. “Oh my God, don’t be funny right now. It hurts so bad.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, a smile in his voice. He didn’t sound sorry at all, but instead of being annoyed, I actually found this whole conversation endearing, which was a problem in itself.
“You know, I still think you’re crazy for this,” I told him, trying to hold on to that even though it wasn’t true anymore.
I wasn’t sure when my mind or feelings changed, but the longer I found myself in his presence, the more I was drawn to him.
Staying at his place was the worst decision ever, but in my defense, I technically wasn’t the one who made it.
My whole family had drunk the Weston Scott Kool-Aid and basically strong-armed me.
Mom and Serenity packed while Dad and Spencer practically threw me into his passenger seat—all while Jason looked on from his own car in the parking lot, wads of tissue stuffed up his nostrils as he looked on like a sad, lost puppy.
I didn’t know what all my mom and sister had packed for me, I hoped they hadn’t forgotten anything crucial, like a toothbrush and deodorant.
“No, you don’t,” West announced. How he managed to sound confident in that statement without coming off cocky was beyond me. But damn, did he pull it off. “You want to think that, but you don’t. That’s what you’re struggling with.”
I turned on him, my mouth gaping and eyes wide. “Are you a freaking mind reader or something?”
“Told you I was a good judge of character, grift. What makes me good at it is that I can read people. Had you pegged the moment you walked into that hotel bar.”
Why the hell did I find that Jedi mind whammy he had going on so freaking sexy? It was the concussion. It had to be. My brain had been knocked around so much it was a soupy mess inside my skull, preventing me from thinking rationally.
“That’s it. No more talking. Let’s make the rest of this trip in silence.”
“Works for me,” he said while flipping on his blinker and turning into the driveway of a nice two-story townhome in a new, expensive-looking complex.
It was a million times better than the one I lived in.
He stopped the truck as the garage door began to lift, looking over to give me a disarming smile.
“We’re here. Looks like I can talk again. ”
Smug bastard.
I meant to keep my expression pulled into a pout, but I was too eager to see where he lived to keep up the facade. “This is nice,” I said as he slowly started pulling his truck into the attached two-car garage.
He let out a low chuckle while shifting into park and turning off the engine. “You sound surprised. What were you expecting?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a dead front lawn and weeds? I mean, you have flowers,” I said, perplexed. “And shrubs. I guess I didn’t see you much as a landscape guy.”
That smirk returned, sending a tingle through my belly. “The complex has a service that maintains the lawns, so I don’t have to get out here and do it myself. Trust me, if I were responsible, the yard would look how you imagined. With my job, I don’t have a lot of time for that kind of stuff.”
He climbed out and rounded the hood to my side.
Instead of fighting him on it, I stayed in place and waited for him to pluck me out of my seat.
There wasn’t any point to arguing, he’d just get high-handed again, but also, I really wanted to be carried around by him.
It made me feel so small and dainty, and he smelled so damn good!
“I get that,” I told him once I was safely tucked in his arms. I leaned in discreetly to sniff his chest. “I guess I’m surprised that a single guy in his . . .” I trailed off, giving him a chance to fill in the blank.
“I’m thirty-six.”
So three years older than I was. That was the perfect age gap. Damn it, Stella, I silently berated, this isn’t a date. I picked my sentence up where I’d paused it. “A single guy in his mid-thirties would have a place this nice and big. I figured you’d basically be living in a bachelor pad.”
He opened the door that led inside as the garage door whirred back down, and what I saw upon entering had my jaw dropping. “I stand corrected. You do live in a bachelor pad.”
The place wasn’t dirty, per se, but it was cluttered, and that clutter was everywhere.
“Yeah, sorry about the mess,” he muttered as he lowered me to my feet. His face took on a pink hue like he was blushing as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “If I’d known I was going to be bringing you back here, I’d have straightened up before I left earlier.”
I twisted my neck to give him an arched look as I teased. “Would you really? Or would you have just run around, gathering everything up and stuffing it in a closet somewhere?”
“Probably the latter,” he answered on a laugh.
“Do you even know how to put things in their proper place?” I was thinking not, based on what I saw.
There were several pairs of boots just inside the door, piled together with no rhyme or reason.
Clothes were strewn about like West would get home from a long day’s work and start stripping down as he moved through the living area into the bedroom, and while that visual was pleasing as hell, the mess it left behind . . . not so much.
There were dishes he’d placed in the sink and filled with water instead of bothering to put them in the dishwasher. I guess it wasn’t all that big a surprise that he was a soaker. It seemed most men were. My dad ‘soaked’. So did Spence. Anything from having to actually do the dishes.
A few empty beer bottles littered his coffee table next to a box of cereal, like he’d eaten right out of the box while he kicked back on the couch one day and hadn’t bothered to return it to the pantry.
At least there was no dust or old, moldy food setting around.
“I know how. I’m just usually too beat after work to bother. But in my defense, I’ve been single for a while now. There’s been no reason to worry about the state of my place.”
A little thrill worked through me at that, and I couldn’t help but dig a little deeper. “Not even any one-night stands?” I tried to infuse my tone with mild curiosity, but the knowing way he was looking at me made me suspect he saw right through me.
He arched a single brow, his tone playful and hot all at the same time as he leaned in close to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“You really want to do the whole ‘what’s your number’ thing right now?
I figured you’d at least let me kiss you before we got to that point.
Maybe a hot make-out session where I get to feel you up a bit. ”
“Uh . . .” My brain short-circuited. So far, we’d only gotten as far as an almost-kiss, but it was still enough to make my fantasies run wild. Now that he was talking about making out and feeling me up, my knees suddenly felt weak.
I was pulled from my daydreams by the sound of a bark that was accompanied by the clack of nails on hard wood.
“Oh, look. A dog!” And the perfect distraction.
Just then, a black dog with tan markings on his feet and muzzle came rounding the corner.
He had the stocky build and coloring of a Rottweiler, but his legs were much shorter and his body not quite as long.
His tail had been docked at some point, and the stumpy little bee stinger was twitching back and forth with so much excitement, his whole back end shook with it.
“Rollie, be gentle.” At West’s stern voice, the dog instantly tried to put on the brakes, his paws slipping and sliding on the floor as he attempted to slow down. He eventually managed to come to a stop by slamming into the wall a couple feet away. The whole thing was absolutely adorable.
“Well hello, cutie,” I said, bending as low as I could to give him a pet.
His fur was so much softer than I’d expected, almost downy.
He felt more like a kitten than a dog. His tongue lulled out the side of his mouth in happiness as he pressed his head into my touch.
“Oh my God,” I said, turning to look at West with a smile. “He’s the cutest thing ever.”
“Thanks. But just wait. Rollie can be a pain in the ass more often than not. Don’t be surprised if you change your tune.”
And the cuteness just kept coming. “Rollie? Is that short for something?”
That blush came back, and seeing this big, strong alpha’s cheeks turn pink only made him that much hotter. Son of a bitch.
“Uh, yeah. Rollie Pollie.” At my questioning look, he went on to explain. “He was just a puppy when I rescued him from the shelter, and he was this fat little fur ball covered in all these rolls.”
I couldn’t help but pull a reaction like my mother, clasping my hands at my chest and letting out an “awwww!” I melted even more.