Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. Piper stepped out and took the seconds she had left, before she reached Alex and Deacon’s apartment, to put on her game face.
She’d been summoned for lunch with Rusty and Alex.
Usually, this would be a good thing. She loved spending time with them.
Yeah, they worked together and saw each other nearly every day, but it wasn’t the same now that they weren’t living on Axle Alley anymore.
She missed them. And after getting another goddamn message from that persistent creep Daniel Taylor from the Real Estate agency this morning, she was more than happy to get out of the house.
If he showed up at her front door one more time, she might be tempted to beat the crap out of him with his own briefcase.
But the morning after her night with Cole? Not a great idea. Both women were like bloodhounds. It’d only take one slip on her part for them to sniff something out. If that happened, she didn’t have a hope in hell. They’d nail her down and interrogate her until she spilled every last detail.
That couldn’t happen.
Cole definitely wouldn’t appreciate being cornered and grilled by her sister and Alex. And that’s what would happen if they found out.
He’d left her in bed in the early hours. But not before he thoroughly kissed her, slid down her body, settling between her thighs, and brought her to a screaming orgasm with his tongue. After, he’d dressed, pressed his lips to the top of her head, and walked out the door.
They’d agreed to a casual arrangement. But no promises were made for more than that. She had no idea when they’d be together again. If he’d come to her, or if he expected her to go to him.
But she did know, whatever happened between them was not for public consumption.
She’d worked that much out on her own. Last night she’d convinced herself she didn’t care what Deke thought.
But in the light of day she’d changed her mind.
With how overprotective he could be—her brother finding out about their non-relationship would not be a good thing.
Not for any of them. Not until she knew exactly where she and Cole were headed.
If they were headed anywhere at all.
She ignored the ache in the center of her chest accompanying that thought. Stop it, Piper. They’d only been together one night for God’s sake.
One unforgettable, mind-blowing night. Her knees went a little weak, and her step faltered, remembering the way he’d lost control. The tender way he’d touched her. She released a shaky breath and squeezed her thighs together. Not an easy thing to do while walking.
Her belly had been full of nervous excitement when she’d walked out of her house this morning, desperate for a glimpse of him, but his car had been gone. And as much as she wanted to call him, to hear his voice, to make arrangements for later that night, she hadn’t.
Pushing too hard, too fast would be the worst thing she could do.
Luckily, and unluckily, Alex had called her to come by for lunch.
It was certainly a way to distract her from chasing Cole down and dragging him back to her bed.
It also meant that if her meager acting skills, from her one and only role as Frenchy in her junior high’s production of Grease, hadn’t stuck, she was royally screwed.
When she knocked on the apartment door, Alex answered. She was wearing one of Deacon’s shirts, the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of cutoffs. She was glowing.
Grinning, she grabbed Piper’s hand and dragged her in. “Finally. Rusty and I are starving. Come on, we’re out on the balcony.”
Piper walked through the living room and smiled to herself.
Her friend had made her mark on her brother’s once minimalist, impersonal apartment.
Bright picture frames lined the big marble mantle above the fireplace, filled with pictures of all of them, as well as several beautiful shots of the wedding and honeymoon.
Car magazines were stacked on the coffee table.
The leather couch and chairs were adorned with big purple throw pillows, and there was now a gorgeous area rug on the floor.
“The place looks great,” Piper said as they walked out onto the balcony.
Alex snorted. “Mausoleums aren’t really my style. I got sick of hearing my own echo every time I spoke.”
Rusty, with a mouthful of custard Danish, smiled and waved her to the seat beside her. Taking a slug of coffee, she swallowed. “Sorry, couldn’t wait another second. My stomach started eating itself.”
Her sister had the metabolism of a racehorse and could eat whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, and never get fat.
Unfortunately, Piper hadn’t taken after their father’s side of the family.
She was the odd one out with her shorter, rounder body.
One look at a cream bun and her ass knew all about it.
Piper grabbed one anyway. She’d burned more than a few calories during the night, right?
One wouldn’t hurt. An image of Cole, the way he’d looked at her when he’d walked into her bathroom, pinning her to the counter, moved through her mind.
God, the man was beautiful. The scars he’d been left with from his accident did nothing to detract from how magnificent he was. Not. At. All.
Rusty licked her fingers. “Did that carburetor come in for the Dodge yet, Pipe?”
Piper took a sip of the coffee Alex had put in front of her and decided to throw herself out on a limb. “Yep. Just after you left Friday.” She sat back, eyes on her sister. “I can get started on it this afternoon if you like? I’ve got nothing better to do. May as well put in some overtime.”
Rusty grabbed a Danish and put it on her plate, then shook her head. “Nah, I’ll do it Monday. Thanks, though.”
Brushing the crumbs off her shirt, Alex turned to her. “Sunday’s not for work, Pipe. Chill out, read one of your romance books.”
Read one of your romance books.
Ouch.
She’d love to believe their refusal had nothing to do with doubting her skill when it came to classic cars, but she couldn’t.
Not anymore. She knew just as much as they did, she just hadn’t had the opportunity to flex her restoration muscles in the last few months stuck in that blasted office. “Right.”
Rusty nodded. “You’ve got a busy afternoon booked for Monday, take a day to relax. There’s a tune-up on the Nissan, and an oil change after that, and that Toyota’s coming in. Owner said it’s making a knocking sound.”
Fun.
All jobs she could do blindfolded. Zero challenge. Boring as hell. “You’re right. I think I’ll do some reading later.”
She should tell them how she felt, lay it all out, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. Couldn’t bear to hear them admit they didn’t think she could handle the restoration jobs.
No. Her only option was to show them. To make the Chevy purr, then roll it out and surprise them.
She lifted her bun, and it was halfway to her mouth when Alex jabbed her with her pointy elbow. Piper turned to her. “What? I can’t have a cream bun?”
“What the hell is that?”
Piper frowned. “What?”
Alex turned to Rusty. “Have you had a good look at your sister?”
Piper froze. Oh shit. They were onto her. But how? She hadn’t done anything, had she? “What are you talking about?”
Rusty stopped shoveling food in her mouth, which definitely meant something was way wrong, and stared at her across the table, head tilted to the side like a bird of prey sizing up a mouse before it struck. “Jesus,” her sister muttered.
“What’s wrong?” she said louder, a little hysterically.
Alex wiped her hands on her napkin and sat back. “Your face is what’s wrong.” She shook her head. “You better lose the I’ve-recently-had-my-brains-fucked-out expression before Deacon gets home, or he’ll blow a gasket.”
Piper felt heat climb up her neck. “I do not. I look nothing like that.” It wasn’t possible. Because technically, they hadn’t…fucked. Granted, they’d done everything but, but still. She was admitting to nothing.
“No?” Rusty said from beside her, leaning closer.
She twisted to face her sister. “No. And would you back the hell up?”
Rusty moved fast, grabbing the collar of Piper’s shirt, and yanked it down past her shoulder. “Then what the hell’s this, Miss Innocent.” She stabbed a pointy finger into the side of her neck.
“Ouch!” She tried to slap Rusty’s hand away, but the redheaded she-devil jumped her, wrestling her hands behind her back.
Alex moved in, brushing her hair out of the way, and while Rusty held her down they both inspected her neck. It was like the last fifteen years hadn’t happened at all. She almost expected to hear her father’s voice booming from the other room, telling the pair of them to stop picking on Piper.
“You’ve got a hickey,” Alex said, giving it a poke as well.
“No. I can’t have.” How had she missed it?
“I know a hickey when I see one. Seems you’ve been holding out on us, girl.”
Sweet girl.
God, the way he’d said it in that deep, coarse voice filled with longing, with heat. She’d loved it.
Alex’s eyes narrowed on her.
Crap.
She tried to think fast. A successful lie usually held a thread of truth, that’s what everyone said. “Let me go, and I’ll tell you.”
“We want all the details,” Alex said.
“Fine.” Like hell.
Rusty let her go, and they both took their seats again, neither one taking their eyes off her the whole time, like they expected her to make a break for it. The idea held definite appeal.
She straightened her shirt and sat back, out of Rusty’s reach. “Okay, so I…I went on a date. Well, two actually, this week, and this”—she pointed to her neck—“is what happened after I was dropped home.” Ha! All true. She’d just omitted a few teeny tiny facts.
They both stared at her like she was nuts. “Two dates?” Alex repeated.
“Yep.”
Her friend’s eyes narrowed. “And you didn’t think to tell us?”