Just Her Luck (64 page)

“I can speak for myself,” I grumbled, walking ahead of him.

“I am all too aware of how you speak, Genevieve.”

A group of people passed by and I made sure they were out of ear shot before I responded.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

He shook his head and grabbed my keys from my hands, getting in the driver’s side.

He started the engine and locked the door, making my attempts to open it pathetic and pointless.

I stomped around to the passenger side and hopped in.

“I said, what is that supposed to mean?” I demanded, my voice harsh and low.

He stared straight ahead, glowering at the cinder blocks in front of us, gripping the steering wheel while my car warmed up.

It was much cooler today, making me wish I’d brought a jacket, but my sudden case of the goose flesh had nothing to do with the cold.

“You know
exactly
what I mean. You always have to be difficult. What good are you to her if you run yourself into the ground? If she needs you, what good are you to her if you’re dead on your feet? You need to sleep and so do I.” He blew out a frustrated breath and ran those strongly tanned hands of his through his hair.

He had a point, but I could care less at the moment.

Stubborn, stubborn me.

“You’re just mad because I wouldn’t let you play the concerned buddy ‘friend’,” I accused, slumping down in my seat.

His jaw clenched, a vein popping up along his neck.

“Is that what you thou… You know what?” He shook his head. “I won’t do this with you, not here.”

He put the car in reverse.

“Why not, old man? Here is as good a place as any?”

Ignoring me, he backed out and took off.

I could practically hear his molars grinding.

Irritated, I huffed and snickered at him.

“Then where, oh, king of crack pots?” I snapped, itching for a fight.

He looked over at me meaningfully, unable to mask his seething countenance.

“When we get
home
,” he gritted out.

There was a wealth of meaning crammed into those four little words, making me wince inwardly, his voice dark and deep, deeper than normal.

Uhm…

Well, Vieve, you did say you wanted a fight…

Now you got one.

It took a good half hour before I started to truly sweat it, Reeve still resembling a tea pot about to blow or whistle, making me rethink my earlier decision that he would be marvelous to pick a fight with, be the one to take all my shit out on.

Yes, Vieve, how smart you are!

Idiot!

I sent all four of my guys a quick text.

‘Just remember that I love you and whatever happens, no matter what, it was all Reeve’s fault. Okay? All Reeve’s fault.’

I pressed send and glanced over at Reeve, who wouldn’t even look at me.

“Pretty mad, huh?” my lame attempt at small talk fell on deaf ears.

He pulled the radio knob out of his pocket and turned it on, putting it on a country station.

Without glancing at me, he cranked it up.

I kept my gaze on the window after that, his point effectively made.

Well, fuck you too, buddy!

I fidgeted as we got closer to home, unable to hide my growing trepidation.

What the hell is he planning?

What the fuck is that supposed to mean, ‘when we get home’?

I’m not a child!

Erm, uhm, maybe I
was
a
bit childish earlier…
but still!

Well, whatever it is he’s thinkin’, I don’t plan on staying around long enough to find out.

Break For It

We pulled up to the ranch, and the second he pulled into the little parking spot, before he could even get the engine off, I hopped out and ran, ignoring him shouting at me over the noise of the car.

I ran around the side of the house and over to my window, trying to climb in through the same one Thatcher once had.

It was easy enough to open, making me decide to put in those window locks I’d been thinking about for real this time.

I’ll just slip in and slip out, get my shit back when he’s not looking.

I could hide in the top loft until then, then hide out at my house for a few days.

Yeah, I could do that.

“What the hell do you think you’re doin?” Reeve demanded, directly behind me, plucking me off of the sill.

“Getting the hell away from you! I won’t be part of your creep-o, ominous, ‘when we get home’ shit!” I gripped back onto the sill, grunting when he tugged at me.

“Let go, you ridiculous female!”

“NO!” I bellowed, “Go away!”

“Like hell!”

I fought him, kicking and screeching, bellowing out when he managed to pry me loose and tote me into the house, unlocking the sliding glass door to drag me through.

“God damn it! Stop… Genevieve… would you…”

“NO! And if you hit me or put your hands on me, I swear…!”

The phone started ringing and he glanced up at it, distracted.

I gut checked him and ran for the kitchen, intending to go through the backdoor.

The second I entered that damn kitchen, though, I knew I’d made a mistake.

I bumped the counter in my haste, knocking the flowers from Cal the other day over.

The forgotten buds that I hadn’t watered were now dried out little husks,
-whoops
- and knocked all over my shirt.

“Shit.”

I tried to brush them off, making them crumble and dust up everywhere.

Reeve chose that moment to tackle me.

Not ready for it, he took me down hard, both of us sliding on the tile.

I sucked in a big breath in surprise at the tackle, the air rushing out of me when we landed.

He’d taken the brunt of the fall, twisting us as we tumbled, rolling on top of me once we touched down.

We tussled around for a good five minutes, grunting and cussing at each other, but he eventually got the upper hand.

“Now,” he growled, straddling me.

It dawned on me belatedly that it was getting a little hard to breath, my chest getting tight and restrictive.

And Reeve sitting on me, all super hot and bothered- not the good kind- had nothing to do with it.

“Now. We are going to get this shit straight. Got it?” he growled.

I tried to roll over, ready to make a grab for my purse, but he held tight, pinning my wrists over my head.

He glared down at me when I motioned for him to let me up.

“Reeve…” I managed breathlessly, the tightening in my chest getting worse, building up.

“NO,” he barked, looming over me, his face set and determined. “You’re going to listen to me and we’re going to…”

My chest heaved uselessly and I wheezed, trying to suck in a breath, my eyes widening in unbidden panic.

Can’t breathe!

Shit!

I grimaced when it started to get painful, the constriction making me light headed.

Sorry, brain, I’m trying to keep you oxygenated, I swear.

“Hey, you don’t… fuck!” Reeve jumped off me, his eyes widening into huge saucers.

He scrambled back, tripping over himself as he ran out of the room.

Wait!

Where the hell is he going?

Help me!

Out of breath, I couldn’t force myself to say it out loud.

I lay on the floor, closing my eyes, trying to calm my panicked breaths as I panted shallowly.

God, it hurts.

“Don’t you pass out on me!”

Oh, hey, he came back.

That was quick.

Strong arms picked me up and cradled me against a warm chest, my inhaler shoved into my hand.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do, prison bait. Help me out here.”

I shook it up and used it, leaning against him heavily as I waited for the albuterol to work its magic.

Not too sure how long passed, but my lungs eventually opened up and I sighed in blessed relief.

“You okay now?” he asked worriedly, his breath tickling, warm against my neck.

I got up slowly and brushed myself off, not making eye contact.

I didn’t want to give myself away, that I’d lingered on him a little bit longer than necessary, relishing the feel of him holding me tight, his husky, gruff voice murmuring to me softly, reminding me of that one night spent together, making me feel all, well…
yeah.

For one moment, I’d imagined he was ‘naked tag Reeve’, my reeve.

“I’ll live, moonshine. Don’t go getting too excited,” I said quietly.

He moved so fast I squeaked, unable to articulate anything further, whirling around.

“We’re going to fix this…” he waved his hand at us, “between you and I, and you’re going to shut that sassy mouth of yours and listen up, ya hear?”

I went to respond, hiss and spit at him, but he pointed at me warningly.

So, so, mad, this one.

His glower alone could make paint curl.

My toes curled as his voice rippled over me, another warning, making the hairs all stand up on the back of my neck.

I wanted to both do as he said, maybe get rewarded for good behavior, and yet, be deliberately be bad, hoping he punishes me.

I bit my lip, chewing at it with my top teeth.

Ugh! I hate ‘me’ right now!

I’m just wrong, wrong, wrong!

“Just nod.” He stared at my lip, watching the movement and swallowing hard, then looked up over the top of my head, making me feel like I’d just been dismissed or something.

Incensed, I growled and turned around to march from the room, but he held tight, his grip like iron as his hand banded around my upper arm.

“Let go! You can get all cave man, ‘do as I say’ on your next victim all you want, sir ass a lot, but not me! I’m fuckin’ done!”

I need to get the hell outta here, take some allergy meds
- I could already feel my nose stuffing up- yay flowers-
change my clothes, take a cold, cold shower, and go see if they sell lobotomies cheap on the internet.

I’m a terrible person,
I wanted to wail, ashamed at myself, disgusted, really.

Here I have an aunt dying, in the hospital, four kooky men of my own already to contend with and here I am, getting the vapors, (you’re a sick sick woman, Vieve), from the grumpy asshole manhandling me!

He pulled me roughly back, and I stumbled, smacking hard into his torso, practically plastered to him.

I blinked up at him, gulping as he stared down at me, taking in my temporarily open expression, his hand reaching out slowly as he pulled me in, watching me intently as he leaned down just a bit.

I know he knows how unnerving he is.

He’s doing it on purpose.

I jerked when his hand stroked my face, running slowly down my cheek.

He kept it up, leaning in a little closer, making me feel a little dizzy and nervous, wanting to close the gap and slap my lips against his, give him a kiss he’d never forget, but at the same token he made me want to slap
him
, knee him in the nuts and tell him the hell off.

Been there, Vieve, done that, remember how it turned out?

Gah! He makes me feel downright certifiable!

Last time….

The morning after our glorious night played over in my head.

I stilled.

He caught the change in me, in my body language, and his hand dropped to his side.

“You can spit and hiss at me all you want, hell cat, but you don’t fool me.” He pulled me into a hug, his arms snuggling me up against him, his head resting on top of mine.

The house phone rang again and I would have pulled away to get it, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Look, I, uh, I like you, Vieve…” his hands stroked me as if he was unsure of his welcome.

He should be wary, damn it! Very wary!

I opened my mouth, and he nudged me.

“
And don’t say nothin’
, it’s true. I do. I may not act like it sometimes, but god you make it hard, so hard when you…” He stopped himself, his voice going from soothing to disgruntled, but he caught it, softening it again. “You can’t just take everything on by your fool self, woman. You have to let people help you out every once in a while, lean on ‘em. Me comforting you had nothin’ to do with kissin’ ass and bein’ a good boy in front of Miss Ruthie. You’re aunt knows I’m an asshole, gremlin, I’ve never acted any different on her account.”