Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I will not look out the window. I will not…
Oh no. Are they arguing?
Covering my mouth, I drop the curtain and turn my back. What’s with all the over-testosteroned alphas around here?
Suddenly my life is full of them.
I shake my head as I walk into the kitchen. Unfortunately, Vik’s arsenal is still spread out on nearly every surface.
Great. When is he going to show up and flex his muscles?
It was a stretch to call him to pick me up. But I know he doesn’t like my father. He also doesn’t look like a man that would have a problem deterring Evan.
And that’s all I could think of. I was… so hurt.
Vik’s words come back to me.
“It pays to know all facts before you react.” Said kindly, with a sort of brotherly tone.
I sigh and rub my hands down the sides of my dress.
Evan Walker.
I don’t know the facts about the man, other than he rattles me.
A swarm of questions tighten my stomach.
But first, I need a bath. Space to clear my head from the cobwebs of the morning.
Wait … I can’t take a bath. My bandage can’t get wet.
Plan B.
I open the fridge door, determined to find something cold with a lot of alcohol.
The movement of air next to my arm makes me jump. “Oh my god, Evan! Sneaky. I didn’t even hear you come in.”
“Sorry, I thought you would’ve heard the door. Need any help?”
“Depends, can you erase the last few hours?”
His soft chuckle wraps around me, making me forget what I’m doing. I’m holding the door to the fridge open. The cold air is spilling around my feet.
I try and fail miserably to ignore how good he looks in my kitchen as he leans a hip against the counter and looks down at me.
“I’m sorry for everything. That I upset you. That I didn’t tell you more. That you had to deal with the police chief.”
System overload.
Am I really ready for this conversation? I chose to divert. “Do you like tequila?”
He blinks at me, lifting a dark, handsome eyebrow. “Mostly.”
I push around various jars of condiments and salsa in the fridge until I find what I’m looking for. “There. I knew it was in here somewhere.”
The blue bottle of DonAzule Tequila is half full.
“I can’t remember the last time I had it out. Months ago.”
I place it on the counter with a thunk.
He’s still looking at me when I pass by him and get two small glasses from the cabinet next to the oven.
The watchful silence continues as my favorite kitchen knife clunks against the cutting board as I halve three freshly picked limes.
The air fills with the sharp tangy scent. The smell transports me back a few years.
“My grandfather loved limes. We used to pick them together. The last time we did was when I was home on a college break. That was the last time I saw him.”
It takes work not to tear up. I blow out a breath, lifting my hair off my face.
I can’t look at Evan. The sound of his slow, steady breathing is almost more than I can take.
I never talk about these things. It feels foreign and wrong, but yet good all at once.
When I glance down there’s a half of a lime in my hand. What was I doing?
Oh, right. Juicing these. When I’m finished extracting all of the pale green juice, I push the cups his way. “Your turn.”
The cork makes a dull pop sound as it exits the long neck of the bottle.
“Say when.”
Perfect golden liquid streams from the bottle into the first cup.
Pride pushes aside some of the pain. “We made this.”
“It’s really nice that you had a grandfather to raise you and work with.”
My breath stills as I look into his eyes. “How did you know that about him?”
“Vik told me about the farm.”
I expect to find pity in his expression. When people find out my story—that I lost my only close family and was left with the business, they look at me a certain way.
But he looks… almost proud instead.
He tips the bottle upright, stopping the pour and moves to the other cup. “So this is a special blend?”
I nod and find a wide smile pulling at my cheeks. “It is. This is our aged, premium tequila. Made from the plants on this farm.”
“I bet it was made with a lot of love.”
Clunk . My heart lurches.
The sudden need to swallow makes me glance down. “It was. He poured his heart into it. Literally. We had so much fun working on the farm and the business together.”
He touches my chin, sliding his knuckle below. Gently he lifts my gaze back to his.
“Let’s toast to him.”
Breathe, Marianna.
I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth as I fight a swarm of feelings making my chest feel too full.
My voice is raspy. “I’d like that.”
He lifts his cup into the air, the light from the window catching on the rippling liquid inside the glass. “To Robert, a beloved grandfather and fine craftsman.”
I shake my head with tears burning at my eyes. “How did you know his name?”
“I was intrigued by you.” He holds up his other hand. “But don’t be alarmed, I did not run a background check. I just spoke with Vik and looked at your company website.”
After I catch my breath, I laugh softly. “Well you could knock me over with a feather right now.”
Evan swallows as his fingers tighten on his glass. “Ditto.”
God.
This tension is going to be the death of me.
“To Robert.” I lift my cup. “The best grandfather a girl could ever want.”
It feels good to say this aloud. Have I ever told anyone that’s how I felt?
We toast and he sets his cup down, thoughtfully looking at the remaining contents. When he looks at me again, there’s a hollowness to his gaze.
But he quickly banishes it and a smile spreads on his face.
Uh… wow. I stare, a little in shock. This is the biggest, most genuine smile I’ve ever seen on him.
It’s transformative.
Evan’s handsomeness always knocks me for a loop, but this… this is almost more than I can take.
“So, when I said maybe about liking tequila…” He lifts his cup and takes another drink. An ahh sound follows. “I wasn’t sure if you were talking about some rotgut gasoline like I might have had once upon a few dozen times. But this…this is damn good.”
“Thanks. We put a lot of pride into DonAzule. I mean me. I guess it’s not we. It’s just me now.”
Melancholy tries to invade my happy moment.
This is how my days are. One minute fine… the next swamped with grief.
Lifting my cup, I breathe in the bright scent of lime and the earthy fragrance of the tequila, hiding my own wavering smile behind the cup. “It’s hard to do… you know.”
“Looking so pretty?”
A devilish wink follows his question.
Heat curls around my neck, creeping upward.
Melancholy gone. Arousal activated.
I sip and enjoy the fruits of our labor. “It can be hard to grow agave.”
He grins quickly. “Oh, that. I know. I’ve been studying how you do it.”
The cup is half way to my mouth when I stop. “You have?”
He nods and moves a little closer to me. “I know enough to be dangerous.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s what makes you dangerous.”
He’s really close now. I sip again, enjoying the cool feeling of the drink sliding down my suddenly parched throat.
“You either, sweetheart.”
He lifts his own cup and takes a slow drink as he looks at me across the cup. Never has drinking out of a glass been so sexy.
The way his throat works could be a viral post. Women all over the world would break their pointer fingers playing it over and over again.
When he’s done, he slides his tongue across his lower lip.
A tiny shiver moves through my stomach. All I can think about is being skin to skin with him. Feeling his mouth on my neck.
And from the way he’s staring, I’m sure that’s what he wants.
But thinking about what’s going to happen between now and then makes me nervous.
Do I just jump on him? Because that’s what these stupid hormones would have me do.
Nervous laughter bubbles out of me and makes him smile.
In a teasing tone, I ask, “You didn’t want Scout to stay?”
Evan’s lips twitch as his eyes grow darker. “No. Definitely not.”
“We could have invited him in.”
“He knew better.”
I take a breath and ask a more daring question. “Why were you angry with each other?”
“It’s nothing. He just has your best interest in mind.”
My stomach tenses.
“Do you?” I let my hand rise and brush across the front of his shirt, just ever so slightly touching his heated skin through the fabric. “Hm? Mr. Goodlove?… Or is it Mr. Walker? Or maybe it’s Storm?”
Waves of heat are coming off of him. It’s a delicious sensation that makes my breath feel a little short.
His gaze follows my hand. “Do you know why people like us use aliases sometimes?”
I tear my attention away from the dip at the base of his throat up to his slate-gray eyes. “I understand the concept. For safety. I just want to know if you picked Goodlove.”
He pauses for a second, a small smile appears. This one different.
Hotter.
Gaze smoldering, he leans in next to my ear. His breath slides over my cheek. My skin goosebumps from head to toe.
Then he chuckles softly. “Does it fit?”
“Did you pick it? That’s kind of cocky.”
A warm rumble of laughter shakes his abs. “No. My boss’s wife thought that was funny.”
I trail a circle over his pecs as my nipples stir to life beneath the fabric of my bra. “So, she doesn’t know?”
His hand slides along the inside of my wrist, making my thoughts go loopy.
“Know what, beautiful?”
“That you’re a pussy wrecker.”
A beat of silence. The long calloused fingers resting on my bare arm flex as he nuzzles my neck. “Am I?”
I’m fighting a giggle. “And I can’t blame it on the alcohol for saying that. It hasn’t had time to take effect yet.”
His low, whispered voice is right next to my ear. “So, I wrecked your sweet little cunt?”
Maybe I am feeling the alcohol because I’m suddenly very hot all over.
No one has ever said that word to me.
I never thought it was hot, but in Evan’s low voice it’s maddeningly sexy.
“I don’t think you should put that on your business card. Maybe a heartbreaker warning, though.”
Ugh. I never intended to say that last part out loud.
Hand tightening on my arm, he sighs. “I think you’ve got that backwards, sexy girl. You’re the one that’s going to leave me a broken man.”
“I don’t think a man like you could be broken, Evan.”
He pulls back, just enough to search my face.
The tone of his voice is completely different when he speaks. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“I hope it’s not all bad…” I reach up, my hand aching to touch the alluring scruff of his beard shadow.
He leans into my palm, closing his eyes.
My promise comes out in a breathy whisper. “I won’t hurt you on purpose.”
He moves closer as my heart skips. I’m definitely breathless now.
A soft brush of his lips against mine makes me whimper.
But it’s his husky confession that peels back my last layer of armor. “I’m not sure if you did, I’d even be able to walk away.”