2. Dean
DEAN
“Do you have one of those devices that scans for GPS trackers on cars, or is that more your brother’s department?
” Heather asks as I follow her to her car, parked at the farthest end of the steak house’s dimly lit parking lot.
Fuck, I hate to think how that creeper might’ve followed her out here and cornered her had she been alone.
I haven’t stopped seeing red since I spotted them in the restaurant.
At first, I mistook it for jealousy. But after a millisecond, I noticed how uncomfortable Heather was. She was gripping her purse like a lifeline. I didn’t think my plan through before I marched past the hostess stand and pretended to be the boyfriend she was set on punishing.
“No.” It’s the only answer I can choke out because I’m seething.
I caught a quick glimpse of that photo on the table, and it has me on edge.
What fucking psycho makes a family portrait and talks about wedding plans on a first date?
If it weren’t for my sister yammering on and on during her drive to the city earlier this afternoon, I wouldn’t have known Heather was on a date at all.
I wouldn’t have found an excuse to hang out at the coffee shop half a block away.
Thank fucking God I did.
I pull my phone from my pocket and scroll for my brother’s number.
“It’s okay,” Heather says, shaking her head. “I’m probably just overthinking this whole thing.”
“For the record,” I say, my words a near growl because I’m that infuriated at the whole situation, “you’re underreacting.”
“Do you know him or something?”
“Who?”
“Jonathan the Jackass.” When I look up, she’s biting her lower lip.
“I couldn’t find his last name. Red flag, right?
He apparently knows everything about me, including where I worked in college ten years ago.
You’re right. Totally underreacting. But don’t worry.
I’m done dating. I’m going to adopt a clowder of cats and spend Friday nights on my couch from here on out. ”
Tears prick the corners of her eyes, and it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to pull her into my arms.
When Heather’s text popped up on my screen hardly fifteen minutes ago, I was shocked as hell to see her name. I figured if the date was a bust, she’d have sent her SOS text to my sister, and Penny would’ve been the one to send me in.
Heather’s avoided me since last Christmas, when she kissed me in her nana’s garage. I can still taste the eggnog on her tongue. It doesn’t matter that she declared it was a mistake before I could recover from the shock. I’ve craved eggnog ever since.
“I don’t have a cat to go home to tonight, but I do have ice cream.” She reaches for the driver’s side door handle, and I immediately grab for her wrist. “You’re not driving this car.”
“I wasn’t drinking. Wait, you really think there might be a tracker on it?
I was joking. Mostly.” A tear rolls down her cheek, and she shoves it away with the back of her hand.
I have the overwhelming urge to storm back into that restaurant and punch that weasel into next week.
Heather is the most vivacious, strong-willed woman I know.
That some sorry excuse for a man had the audacity to make her feel afraid only enrages me further.
“I’m not taking any chances. Get what you need out of your car. I’ll have Gage check it out. We can pick it up tomorrow.”
“You don’t mind giving me a ride home?”
I press the call button, and as it rings, look at Heather to ask, “Did you install the Ring camera I got you for Christmas?”
“No—”
“Then you’re not going home tonight.”
“But—”
“Dean, for the tenth time, the answer is no,” my brother says the second the call connects. “You offered to make our sister a custom in-home library. You’re not roping me into helping you put together all those built ins. You’re on your own.”
“I need a different favor.”
“You sound serious.” His tone shifts from brother to police officer instantly.
“I am.”
“What’s going on?”
Keeping my eyes on the front door to the steakhouse, I give Gage the short version. My brother immediately promises to take care of the situation, and I end the call.
“Got what you need?”
“There’s nothing in there I need tonight. But where are you taking me?”
“To my place.”
“I could just go Nana’s—”
“It’s late. She’s probably asleep.” Despite being eighty, her nana is usually the last one to leave any party.
But I hope Heather’ll accept what I’m saying without calling me out so I don’t have to scare her further.
I refuse to take her anywhere but my place tonight so I can keep her—and those she cares about—safe.
“You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”
“Penny would skin me alive if I did.”
“Fine,” she says with a heavy, defeated sigh.
We drive back to my place in strained silence.
I fucking hate it, but I don’t know how to fix it.
I don’t know how to tell the woman I’ve been in love with for years that the kiss she called a mistake meant everything to me.
It’s clear she doesn’t feel the same way.
The number of dates she’s been on these past few months would attest. I’ve kept my distance out of respect, only stepping in when shit gets serious.
“I don’t have a toothbrush,” she says as I pull into the driveway. The garage is full of unassembled bookshelves for my sister, so I can’t park in there. Tonight is the only night I’ve been irritated about that.
“I have extras,” I say, cutting the ignition and opening the garage door so we can go inside that way.
“That clocks.”
Hand on the door handle, I freeze. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Heather flinches, and I silently curse at myself. I’m wound so fucking tight about all the things that might’ve gone wrong tonight had she not sent me that text, but that doesn’t mean I should be taking them out on her. She didn’t ask for some stalker asshole to ruin her night.
“Why did you text me?” I ask, softening my tone.
“I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
She pulls out her phone, scrolling. “I texted Penny—oh.” A sheepish smile spreads across her lips, a light blush pinkening her cheeks. “Apparently Penny and Pain in My Ass are right next to each other in my contacts list. Who knew?”
“Pain in My Ass?”
“I know, not the most creative nickname, but I’m better with graphite than with words. Are you sure you don’t mind me staying here?”
“I’m sure.”
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” she offers as I lead her inside, closing the garage door behind me.
“I’ll sleep on the couch.” No way in hell I’m letting her sleep that close to either door. She’s safer in the bedroom. “You’re in luck. There’s fresh sheets on the bed. But I have to warn you, it comes with a roommate.”
“A roommate?”
Aries lets out a long meow that’s part hello part where the hell’s my dinner.
“You got a cat?” Heather’s entire face lights up as she tosses her purse aside and crouches down to greet the orange tabby. “Since when?”
“Careful, he’s got an attitude and murder claws to go with it. He’s not the cuddly type.” I nearly trip over my words as I watch Aries crawl immediately into Heather’s lap. He purrs so loudly I swear it’s like he’s giving me the middle finger.
“He’s just the sweetest boy, aren’t you?” Heather squeezes him tight against her, and he lets her.
Fuck me, now I’m jealous of my cat.