12. Zuri
ZURI
Iwake up slow and comfortable, with a weight across my waist that I can’t file right away. I roll from one side to the other, and the weight comes with me. It’s an arm. There’s a very large, very warm arm draped over me, and the whole bed smells like smoke and honey.
I open my eyes. Jalen is still asleep, his face close enough that I could count his lashes. He looks peaceful. His breathing is deep and easy. When I move, his hand curls into my nightgown and pulls me in tighter.
I stare up at him. I want to slap his chest, as if he’s late. Where have you been? Do you have any idea how lonely my life has been without you?
I don’t move. My feet don’t ache for once. My back isn’t braced. Nothing in me is waiting for a phone to ring or for Whitney’s next memo.
I reach out and brush my fingers over his cheek. His skin is warm and soft. He’s beautiful this close.
He pulls in a long breath and stirs under my hand. I don’t want to wake him. I start to pull back, but he opens his eyes and smiles at me.
I smile back.
“Good morning,” he says, and even his morning breath is sweet. Nothing about that is fair.
All I do is smile at that. I move my hand from his cheek and rest it on his arm.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“You’re the one that got shot,” I say. “I just got punched in the face.”
Smoke curls out of his nose. A low growl rumbles out of him. “Burning that asshole’s hand was a courtesy. I wanted to rip his head off.”
I sigh and close my eyes. “I’m fine, Jalen.”
His hand tightens in my nightgown when I say his name.
I open my eyes. He’s already watching me, bright green eyes fixed on mine. My heart flutters.
“I don’t want to get out of this bed,” I tell him. “It’s so comfortable. Puts my rusty apartment to shame.”
“I thought your apartment was nice,” he says. “A cozy space.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You were in my apartment?”
His laugh comes out too quick. “No. I never snuck in. But I did watch you from the large tree in front of your building.”
I prop my head up on one elbow. “You were the handsome man in the bar. The one my friend Renee was talking about.”
He smiles at me and says nothing.
“That was the night your scent finally hit me,” he says. “You told me you used the hand soap at Stillwater.”
I nod.
He glances down at my hands. “It must have worn off.”
I lie back on my pillow. “I washed my hands again in the bar restroom. The soap was different.”
He nods. “I think all it takes is a little of it getting into your pores. But it wears off.”
“So what are we going to do about it?” I ask.
“First, I’ll take it to Malachi,” he tells me. “He has the legal connects to deal with something like this.”
I nudge his arm for the rest. “And?”
He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Then I’m going to use my podcast to make sure Shadow Wolf Creek knows to stay away from Stillwater products.”
My mind goes to those wrong-blue eyes in that cold white office. “What about Delilah?”
He shrugs. “What about her? She’s looking for something. No one kicks up this much trouble in our town without a reason.”
Our town. He says it easy. I don’t even know if I’m staying.
He slides his hand off my waist and taps one finger against his chin. “How is it possible for you to be even more beautiful after a good night’s rest?”
My face heats up. “You need to work on your charm or something. I don’t know what to say to that.”
He quits teasing. “I didn’t think I would find you, Zuri. I’ve just been living.”
I nod. “Same.”
He stares at me again. He looks at my mouth.
Oh my God. He’s going to kiss me.
I want him to.
He shifts closer. The bed dips with him, and his green eyes stay on mine the whole way in. My breathing goes quick and shallow. My lips part.
He stops with his mouth almost on mine, and he waits. I tip my chin up. His warm breath touches my mouth first, and I close my eyes.
His lips brush mine, so soft I gasp against him.
I move into him. My leg slides between his, and my thigh brushes against his stiff dick. Even through his pants I can feel it, big, thick, and hot.
He smiles against my mouth and deepens the kiss. His tongue trails along my bottom lip. When it slips inside, I wince sharp. The cuts inside my mouth from that punch are still healing.
He pulls back quick. He goes still and reads my face.
“I’m fine.” I lift toward him, chasing his mouth. “Keep going.”
He groans. Then he shakes his head and presses a kiss to my forehead instead, his thumb stroking my cheek while he cups my chin. “Let’s get up and get you looked over. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”
I wanted him to roll on top of me and press me into this fancy mattress of his.
I bite my lip when he stands up from the bed. His dick presses a long line down the front of his pants, and none of it is subtle. He could have rolled me over and gotten right to it, and I would have thanked him.
Jalen throws his head back and laughs.
He stretches his arms over his head, taking his time about it. I poke my bottom lip out on purpose.
“You’re feeling the pull between us,” he says. “Your body wants me, and you don’t understand why.”
He’s right. I don’t understand it. I’ve also stopped caring. He’s not getting that out of me this morning.
He turns back to the bed. “Let me court you a little before we turn this room upside down.”
Then he leans in and gives me another soft kiss. “Believe me when I say I want you,” he says against my lips. “My dragon is about to burst out of me and take you himself.”
“Will I get to meet your dragon?” I ask.
“Yes. He is yours as much as mine.” He crosses to the dresser and pulls his clothes out of the two drawers I didn’t take over.
I finally sit up and stretch until my back pops. I start finger-combing my hair. It’s everywhere.
I climb out of bed and head for the toiletry bag Brandy and Jules packed me. Then I stop in front of the dresser mirror. My bruise has deepened to purple overnight. My hair worries me more. It’s standing straight up on top of my head, like I went too crazy with the spritz.
I run my fingers through it, pressing it down. It springs right back.
Jalen reaches me in two steps and pulls me into his arms. He kisses me again. “You’re beautiful, baby.”
I snatch the toiletry bag and shut myself in his bathroom. I can hear him laughing through the door.
I take my time in the shower, and afterward I brush my hair out until it settles. The sisters packed me a soft V-neck top and a pair of skinny jeans that fit better than anything I own. The tag is still on the shirt when I pull it over my head, and the price makes me suck my teeth.
Now I’m scared to eat breakfast in it. I’m a messy eater, liable to baptize this shirt in coffee before I even sit down.
Jalen kept himself on the other side of the door the whole time I got ready. When I come out, he takes his turn.
The water starts behind the bathroom door. I make up the bed while I wait.
Then I snoop. His desk sits under a mess of newspapers, and notebooks are stacked knee-high against the wall beside it. In the far corner, a microphone hangs tilted on its boom arm with headphones hooked over it.
So this is the podcast.
I cross to the sliding door on the far wall, and behind the glass a whole balcony hangs over the valley. Shadow Wolf Creek is laid out below me. Rooftops line Main Street, the morning sun is catching the tree line, and mountains stand on every side of it all.
“Wow,” I say to the empty room. “This is something.”
On my way back from the glass, my hip bumps the desk, and the computer screen blinks awake. There’s no lock screen or password. It opens straight to his editing software, a row of sound waves paused mid-run. He was working on something.
I look at the bathroom door. The water is still going.
I lean in and click the preview button.
“CREEK BABIES.” His voice booms out of the speakers.
“The mess does not rest, so let’s get into it.
Lamar. The man has been burning hash browns at Stanley’s for years, and in all that time he has never once shot his shot at an available woman.
Waitresses with mates. Tourists with husbands.
A bride, creek babies, at her own rehearsal dinner.
But this week, Lamar graduated. Y’all seen that shiny roll of tin in the diner parking lot?
Looking like a soda can that lost a fight?
That was Lamar’s truck on Monday, right up until our newest neighbor caught him leaning into his mate’s window with his church smile on.
Sable is a gargoyle, babies. Patience is the whole job description, and Lamar found the bottom of it.
I asked Sable for a comment and he gave me one: ‘A possession for a possession.’ Gargoyles don’t do follow-ups.
This is Messy Jay reminding you—where there’s smoke, I’m probably the fire. ”
I burst out laughing. I have to grab the back of his desk chair to do it. It’s the funniest shit I’ve heard all week, and with the week I’ve had, I needed it.
The bathroom door opens, and Jalen steps out with a towel wrapped around his waist and water still shining on his shoulders. He stops in the doorway, one hand tight on the towel knot. He glances at the screen, then at me, then back at the screen.
I straighten up and get my laughing under control.
“I think I’m going to like it here,” I tell him.
Jalen grins.