Chapter 6
WEST
Iwas trapped.
Sweat coated my forehead and slicked my back, totally negating my earlier shower. Struggling against the unforgiving cotton, I gave up attempting to push the soft cast through the armhole, ripping the whole shirt off and flinging it across the room with a barked curse instead.
Hand on my hip, chest heaving from my mounting frustration, I glared at the few shirts hanging in my closet, debating which one I should—and could—wear for our stalking mission.
“What the hell is going on in here?” Langston leaned against the doorframe with his inked arms crossed over his chest. My glare zeroed in on his two fully functional hands. He tracked my focus and huffed out a laugh. “If you need help, just ask.”
“Right, like either of us are good at that,” I grumbled, grabbing a looser-fitting shirt off the hanger so hard that the thin plastic flung around the metal rod and crashed to the bottom of the closet.
“And I’m fine. Everything is just ten times more work.
Hell, getting dressed is a fucking challenge with this thing. ”
“Again, all you have to do is ask.” Langston strode to the corner where I’d tossed the black long-sleeve T-shirt I almost suffocated in when it incarcerated me in its buttery softness and snatched it off the floor. He shot me a knowing smirk. “You really need more than one ‘good’ shirt, West.”
I shrugged. “One is fine if I could get it on.”
Motioning me closer, he helped me slip it over the recovering hand first, the soft fabric catching on the cast, before helping me thread the other arm through. After pulling it over my head, he stepped back and nodded.
“Was that so fucking hard?”
I gave him the bird and moved to the dresser to find some socks. I swallowed a groan, knowing that would also take me three times as long with only one working hand.
“You’re not the one actually going on the date, you know.
No need to put on your Sunday best.” Which was hilarious coming from him, because I knew for a fact that Langston chose his current clothes because the jeans hugged his firm ass and thick thighs the best and the shirt was practically painted on.
Plus, the color made his green eyes even more entrapping.
“The plan is to stay hidden and see if we can learn more about Juno.”
Scoffing, I rolled my eyes. “That’s your plan, not mine, remember? And honestly, you lie to yourself way too much for it to be healthy. Do you actually believe you’ll stay hands-off if I somehow find the opportunity to convince Juno that I’m a better option than whoever she’s with?”
“I told you, I don’t trust her.” Langston shifted to lean back against the wall, watching me struggle to pull on a tall boot sock.
“Why the fuck not?” I snapped. “So she’s keeping something from you.
Big fucking deal. You don’t get to know everyone’s darkest parts of themselves right away.
Maybe try being nice to her and talking to her for once without arguing about every damn thing.
Then maybe she’ll open up.” I dropped my head in exasperation.
“I want her, Lang, and I won’t let your stubborn ass get in the way of the three of us being together. ”
Langston’s lips parted, ready to respond, when someone pounded on the front door, the sound echoing through the cabin and shaking the walls from the force. We shot each other surprised and cautious expressions before filing out of my room to see who was attempting to beat down the solid wood.
With a white-knuckled grip, Langston yanked on the handle and opened the door wide, barely shifting in time to miss the fist aimed for his nose. He snatched it out of the air and used the hold to shove our friend Dax backward onto the porch.
Dax stumbled, arms pinwheeling as he attempted to stay on his feet and not tumble down the porch steps. Once he had his footing, he tossed both hands up in the air with an expectant expression.
“What the fuck was that for, Langston?” he demanded, storming up to the door.
“For almost hitting me and your annoying knocking,” Langston snarled before turning around and stomping back into the cabin. “I’ll get the supplies we’ll need for tonight.”
“Supplies? What supplies?” I questioned as he stalked past me.
“Guns, duct tape, zip ties….”
“I brought a shovel.” I followed Dax into the living room with both eyebrows high on my forehead. “What?” he said with a wicked smirk. “You never know what you’ll need.”
“I think he was kidding,” I sighed, rubbing at my temples to ward off the headache I felt coming on. “At least I fucking hope he was.”
“It’s Langston, going to stalk Juno—”
“Recon, not stalking,” Langston corrected from the kitchen.
“Right,” Dax drawled. “Anyway, I want in.”
“In on what?” I headed back to my room to grab my glasses and came back to find Dax pacing the length of the wide stone fireplace. “In on what, Dax?”
He shot me an incredulous look. “Sabotaging their date, obviously.”
I slid my glasses on while contemplating finding new, less violent friends. “Who said we were sabotaging it?”
He scraped a hand along his neatly trimmed beard. “Everyone who knows you and that stalking asshole.”
I froze halfway between standing and sitting on the worn leather couch. “Does Juno know we’re planning to follow her?” I cleared my throat. “For her safety, of course.”
“Of course. Safety first.” With a dramatic sigh, he fell into Langston’s favorite chair.
I stifled a smile when a gruff “Get the fuck out of my chair” came from the kitchen.
Rolling his eyes, Dax shoved out of the recliner and plopped down beside me on the couch. “I don’t think so, but I wouldn’t know. Hell, Finley didn’t even tell me who she’s going out with.”
“Probably to protect all innocent parties involved,” I muttered under my breath. “Do we even know where they’re going, or are we just searching around town until we find them?”
“That fancy restaurant at The Nest.” Langston rounded the couch and sat in his chair with a pointed look at Dax. “My chair.”
“Fuck, you’re even possessive of furniture,” I chuckled.
“I hear no complaints from you, Westly.”
I swallowed hard at hearing my full name in his deep voice. He normally only used it behind closed doors, just us two, which meant he’d intended to trigger the passionate heat flowing through my veins straight to my dick.
Asshole.
It also further proved my point that there was no way in hell he would let me pursue Juno alone. He was too possessive of me, of our relationship, not to be a part of what I hoped to build with her.
His comment about the restaurant had me sitting forward. “Langston, how do you know that’s where they’ll be?” I asked. It was the first I’d heard that bit of information since he got back from the store earlier. “Who do you have spying on them?”
“Informant,” Langston remarked, studying his phone.
“You know, switching out words to make your actions seem more credible and less illegal doesn’t actually change what you’re doing.” He just smirked, ignoring my earlier question. “Who, Lang?”
“My source would prefer to remain anonymous.” He tossed his phone onto the coffee table.
I stared at him. “Langston, I’m not dropping this.”
“Fine, it’s Kale, Oliver’s brother. That’s who told me where they’re going because….” His green eyes slid to Dax, and a sharp smile split his lips. Fuck, that’s not good. “He’s Finley’s date.”
Dax leapt off the couch with enough force from his lean six-foot-two frame that it slid along the hardwood.
I cursed, shifting to the side to stay seated.
His boots thumped against the wooden floor as he stormed to the door.
“Of course it’s that fucking cocky bastard.
Thinks he’s so fucking untouchable because of his brother and dad, and his fucking great hair. ”
Langston and I shared an amused expression at that last comment. Before Dax could leave, Langston called him back.
“Sit the fuck down so we can discuss how to handle tonight.”
Releasing a frustrated groan, Dax slammed the door shut and stomped back to the living room.
“And yes, it’s Kale, but that’s good for you.”
Dax scoffed. “How is that good for me? Have you seen the guy?”
Langston sighed. “Right, but have you ever heard of him dating anyone local?”
Dax’s lips parted before he paused, his brows pulled in tight as he thought over Langston’s question. “No, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him do anything other than work and hang out with Oliver.”
“Exactly, which means tonight won’t end with anything serious. The guy goes to Anchorage to get laid; he knows better than to fuck where he eats.”
“I don’t think that’s the saying,” I drawled. Pushing the thick frames back up the bridge of my nose, I cautiously asked the question I needed the answer to but was also terrified to find out. “Who’s the guy taking Juno?”
A Cheshire cat grin spread across Langston’s face before he smothered it.
“What did you do?” I demanded, stomach sinking with dread.
“Nothing.”
“Langston.” I shoved off the couch and moved around the coffee table to stand over him. “What. Did. You. Do?”
“It’s some guy who Kale works with,” he said, hiding his smile by rubbing a hand across his lips. “And after I found out his name, I looked up his address and stopped by earlier.”
I tossed both hands up in the air. “You said you were going out for fucking eggs.”
He pointed at the fridge. “Which I did, but I also made a detour to check the guy out.”
“Oh shit,” Dax chuckled. “Is he still alive?”
“That is way out of line, Lang.” I moved to pace in front of the fireplace. “Juno will be fucking furious if she finds out you investigated her date. All she wanted was a date and—”
Langston stood and stopped me with a hand to the center of my chest. “No, you said she mentioned not looking forward to the date part, only what came after.”
“So fucking what, Langston, you—”
“I said nothing to the guy. Calm your ass down. And this is good for you too.”
My jaw dropped. “How? How is this good for me?”