Chapter Nine #2
Rowan’s teeth grind. “You wouldn't dare.”
“Oh, I would.” I wink. “Put the cock shirt on or take a trip to the nearest police precinct. The choice is yours.”
He looks away, sighing, before he grabs the bottom of his shirt and lifts it over his head.
My eyes widen as my mouth goes dry. Miles of inked skin come into view as toned muscles stretch with his movements.
Rowan isn't that zero body fat kind of fit.
His shoulders are wide and thick with the kind of muscle that's earned from years of hard work and dedication.
His forearms are solid, the veins running beneath his skin prominent and raised.
He looks dense as hell, and like he holds the strength to carry rather than just lift.
It’s only heightened with the swirling artwork that stretches across his pectorals and stomach.
There’s a dark snake that wraps around his neck, black ravens that stretch their wings over his left pectoral, and detailed roses over the right.
The softness of the flowers complements the sharp darkness of everything else tattooed over his skin. It’s beautiful.
“See something you like?” He muses cockily before grabbing the shirt from me. He pulls it over his head, and I can finally collect my thoughts.
“You wish,” I turn away from him before walking to another aisle.
“It’s alright to admit you find me attractive, Sunshine. I won’t hold it against you.” He smarts from behind me as I grab whatever I can hold. There are a few bags of chips, some sour candy, and chocolate in my arms as I walk toward a display with sunglasses on it.
I try on a pair of bulky tortoiseshell ones, then shrug and add them to my pile. “I would rather eat sandpaper.”
A deep chuckle comes from behind me, sending a shiver down my spine as goosebumps pebble my arms. Fuck, he sounds so good when he laughs.
“So you do find me attractive, then? You just don't want to admit it.” He observes as I grab a pink hat off a rack and stack it on top of my growing pile.
I head for the coolers and pick the most expensive energy drink I can. “Never said that.”
“You didn't have to, Sunshine.”
Again with that damn nickname.
Awareness tingles across my neck, and I swear I feel his breath on the nape before I force myself to walk ahead.
“Are you planning to buy the whole store?” Rowan calls after me as I pass another aisle. “Breaking my bank is going to be much harder than buying a few cheap souvenirs and candy, Addison.”
“My name is Rowan, and I probably rob orphanages for quick cash.” I mock quietly with an eye roll as I round another aisle. I notice the three men huddling together on the other end of the shelves and stop in my tracks as I pick up on their conversation.
“She’s traveling with the leader of the Midwestern branch. This shit isn't what I signed up for.” The tallest one shakes his head, taking off his Stetson hat before scratching at his thick curls.
The man to his right slaps his shoulder hard, a smirk tugging at his lips. He looks conniving in his intensity. Dark eyes sparkle with mischief as he reassures the other two men. “Relax! How bad could this guy be?”
The third man, the shortest of the bunch, shakes his head. He’s older, with salt-and-pepper hair that flops into his eyes. “You boys haven't met Rowan Kingsley, and it shows. There’s a reason they call him Silent. You see him before you hear him.”
I’m totally invested in the conversation despite my heart thundering like a drum in my chest. These men know Rowan, and I’m more than confused at everything they’ve mentioned.
Midwestern branch?
Why does the tall guy seem so hesitant about following us?
The older man seems to know something I don’t about my travel companion.
A hand reaches out, clamping over my mouth as I’m dragged around the aisle and held tightly to a solid chest. I’m out of sight now, and gaze up into Rowan’s hard features as he scans over the aisle. “What the Fuck, Addison?” He hisses, keeping his eyes on the men from his vantage point.
I elbow his side, breaking free of his hold. “What? I didn't know!”
He keeps his eyes trained on them as they wander around the store. “Let’s just wait them out.”
I stand beside him, my items overflowing my arms as he moves me from aisle to aisle.
Time passes, and I begin to grow bored of hiding as the three country bumpkins following us seem to finally give up with their search.
They head for the doors, talking as they point out Rowan’s truck in the parking lot.
“Don’t fucking do it,” Rowan groans as we watch one of the guys drop under the hood and cut something below the vehicle.
I pat his shoulder. “It’s probably something that can be easily replaced.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he says. “We need new transportation. They know my truck.”
I snort. “So, what? Do we go to a car dealership?”
“Not exactly.”
My brows knit as I stare at him. “Rowan, are you going to steal a truck?”
“Absolutely.” He peers around the parking lot as my mouth hangs open in shock.
“You can't be serious,” I mumble.
“They’re leaving. Let’s pay for your stuff, then I need you to distract everyone while I get our ride.” He instructs as if it’s the easiest thing in the world.
I slap a hand over his chest, halting him before he can enact this crazy plan. “Hold on! I’m not stealing a car!”
He grabs my wrist and holds it up. “You’re not stealing anything. I am. Now let’s pay for all of the useless junk you seem to need to spite me, and then you can work on your distraction.”
Oh, my god!
We’re really doing this.
“Unless…” He trails, giving me a challenging stare. “You’re scared. Are you scared, Addison?”
My head rears. “What? No!”
He tucks his hands under his armpits before tilting his head. “Bawk, bawk, bawk!” He squawks like a chicken loud enough to turn a few heads. “I’m the one wearing the cock shirt, but if I remember correctly,” he lifts his head over the aisle, “you were the one stroking my cock—”
I hiss as I grab his shirt and yank him back down to me. The smirk he gives me is malicious and dangerous as I silence him. “Okay, you fucking psycho! I’ll do it.”
“That’s my girl,” he preens.
We both fall quiet, and I feel my cheeks flame with heat. Rowan blinks quickly, shaking his head as he lifts an arm in the direction of the register. “After you.”
“Right,” I mumble, walking ahead.
I try to ignore the racing of my heart as I set everything down on the counter.
The employee lifts a brow. “Anything else?”
“Nope,” I pop the p.
Rowan picks up a pink phone charger before tossing it back on the counter. “I have a charger in my truck.”
“A truck you won’t have in the next hour,” I remind him quietly.
The employee’s eyes bounce between us before she goes back to ringing up the items. “That’ll be seventy-eight dollars and twenty-five cents.”
Rowan grumbles as he swipes his card. “I hope you’re happy.”
“Ecstatic,” I smile.
“Meet you outside,” he says, taking the bags before stalking out the door, and I’m left speechless as I peer around at the crowd of people shuffling around me.
That jackass!
I throw my hands up, pacing in a circle as I figure out where to start. “Please, let this work. HELP ME! HELP!” I fall to my knees exaggeratedly, gripping my left boob. “HELP ME, PLEASE!”
I pretend to sob, my face twisting in faux pain as people scurry around me. A crowd surrounds me as a middle-aged man pushes through. He’s dressed in a crisp, white button-down and slacks. His hair is styled freshly, and his appearance should have been my first clue that this man is a professional.
“I’m a doctor!” He announces before dropping down to his knees beside me.
Fucking great.
What are the odds?
“Where is the pain?” He asks, placing his hand over mine.
“My heart,” I grit through clenched teeth.
“Your heart?” He asks. “Do you feel it in your left arm?”
I nod vigorously. “Please! I can't breathe!” I pretend to have shortness of breath, the sound wheezing from me as I inhale and exhale.
“Could you be having a panic attack? Do you have a history of panic attacks?” The doctor asks.
There’s the sound of a horn blaring through the parking lot, and I shoot up from my position. “Um, false alarm. It was gas.”
I cut through the amassed crowd, ignoring the glares that follow me as I throw one of the glass doors open. The guy in the rooster costume turns to me, his stupid feathered arms outstretched as if he’s coming in to hug me.
I point a finger at him, “Touch me and I’ll kick you in the nuts.”
“Jesus, lady,” he backs off, letting me pass as I head for the lifted idling dark truck parked behind Rowan’s. I throw the passenger door open before climbing in.
“How did it go?” Rowan asks before I turn to him and punch his bicep as hard as I can.
“Ow!” I shout, shaking my limp wrist as pain lances through my hand. “What are you made of? Fucking bricks? And it went super! A doctor questioned me about my medical history, and I had to tell the entire store I had gas. Thanks for that.”
His lips twitch before a laugh, loud and genuine, comes from him. The deep sound echoes in the cab, making heat unfurl in my belly.
“You told them it was gas?” He sobs, wiping a tear. “Oh, that’s golden!”
I swat at his arm, smiling. “Just drive, dick!”
He pulls us out of the parking lot, and all I can think of is the sound of his laughter.
It was real. I’ve had this creeping suspicion that something major happened in Rowan’s life to harden him into this stoic, unfeeling being.
But the glimpse of him that I’m getting proves there’s so much more than meets the eye.
And I don't know what scares me more. The fact that he's not this complete asshole, or the fact that I secretly enjoy who he really is…