Licked (L.A. Liaisons Book 1) (23 page)

“So?”

“He always runs out for a couple hours every Tuesday and Thursday.”
 

He did?
“Runs out where exactly?”

T looked wary, as if he wondered if maybe he’d said too much. “Uh…I’m not sure. Personal business. But he’s always on the job early those days or stays later.”

Huh.
Making up the hours wasn’t the issue. I cared about what was so important he left twice a week to do it. Come to think of it, there had been a couple times where I’d stopped by and he’d been out. I’d just assumed he’d gone for supplies or something, but now that T had confirmed this was something routine for him, it had my curiosity piqued.
Whatever it is, it’s not anything he’s shared with me.
Yeah, that bothered me more than I wanted to admit, though we were still in that whole getting-to-know-you phase, so it wasn’t like I could expect him to spill everything yet.

Still…

“Want me to tell him to stop by when he gets back?” T asked as he edged away, clearly ready to get back to work to avoid saying something that would get him in trouble.
 

“No…no, that’s okay. Not a big deal.” I gave T a tight smile before Paige and I walked back over to Licked.

“What the hell was that about?” Paige asked, her brow raised. “Sounds like some booty-call shit to me.”

I gave her the finger.
 

“I’m serious,” she said. “He skips out twice a week to go somewhere and you didn’t have a clue about it?”

“It’s not like I’ve asked him.”

“It’s not like you
knew
to ask him.”

“Paige…”

“Sketchy,” she said, shaking her head. “We should follow him next time.”

“What? I’m not following him. I’ll just ask him about it later.”

Paige crossed her arms. “If he hasn’t told you anything yet, I bet he lies. Or gets all defensive. If he does, we are
so
spying.”

“It won’t come to that. I’m sure he hasn’t thought to bring it up because it’s no big deal.”

“Or it’s a
big
deal and he’s hiding it.”

I groaned. “What do I have to do to shut you up?”

“Get me another one of those watermelon things. But drown it in booze this time.”

“WHAT DO YOU think?” Hunter asked the next morning when he’d opened the gallon canister of paint I’d be using. He stirred the contents with a wooden stick and then glanced up at me. “Vibrant enough for you?”

“Well, I was hoping for neon and glow in the dark, but it’ll have to do,” I joked. “It’s gonna look so great.”

“I think so too. Would you mind grabbing a couple of those one-inch brushes over there?” He nodded at the tools and supplies in the corner of the back lounge where I’d be getting my paint on.
 

I picked up two of the brushes he’d indicated, and crouched down next to him as he poured the paint into the tray. He’d made me wear a pair of beige coveralls today, which I was positive I looked stunning in—
hah
—and I’d traded in my heels for sneakers I’d found in the back of my closet. Waaaay in the back. Still, I was rather excited about the prospect of getting my hands dirty.

“So how do we do this, exactly?” I asked.

“What, paint?”

“Yes, paint. I’ve never done this before, so which way do I stroke it?”

A smirk appeared on Hunter’s face. “You’re asking me how you should stroke it.”

“That’s what I said. I don’t want to mess it—” Then it occurred to me what he was implying, the cheeky bastard. “Strokes. Paint strokes. Ass.”

“Need me to show you how to wax on, wax off, do I, Ryleigh-san?” It looked as though he was trying to hold back a laugh, but he was losing that battle.

“Fine. Maybe T could show me,” I said, getting to my feet to head to the front where the rest of the guys were working, but Hunter reached for my arm before I could get far and tugged me back.
 

“Don’t even fucking think about it.” He held my chin and gave me a kiss that had my insides melting.
And holy damn, the man could kiss.
I felt bad for the rest of the population that would never experience the taste of him.
 

Actually, no I didn’t. I was greedy like that.
 

When he let me go, I licked my lips. “You’re very convincing.”

“Sometimes. Here, hold this,” he said, putting the brush in my hand and covering it with his own. Then he dipped the tip inside the orchid paint and leaned us in closer to the table we had lying on its side so we could paint the underside first. He held our hands at the top of it and then brushed them down in one long motion. We repeated the move again, and then he kissed me under the ear.
 

“And that’s how you stroke it,” he said with an impish grin. “Any questions?”

“If that’s all there is to it, I think I can take it from here.”

“No doubt in my mind.” He stood up and reached for the extended roller brush he’d set out, plunging it in his own paint tray before starting on the wall. I couldn’t help but watch him work, loving the way the fit of his white t-shirt molded to his back as he pushed the roller up and down. Loved the way every few minutes his head would jerk to the side as he flicked his hair off his forehead. And I
especially
loved knowing what was underneath all those clothes.
 

“You watching me paint or watching my ass?” Hunter asked, still facing away from me.
Damn,
I must be transparent if he could guess that.

“Your ass. Always.”
 

He laughed, turning around to immerse the roller in the tray again. His brown eyes crinkled in amusement, but hidden inside their dark depths was a bit of something akin to satisfaction and…lust.
 

Don’t get me wrong, I loved when he looked at me that way. It had my heart pumping and my thighs tingling, and it made me want to pinch myself. It just
also
made what I needed to ask harder to broach.
 

Deciding to concentrate instead on the movement of my brush up and down the table, I said, “I, uh…came over here yesterday to show Paige around and check about the paint stuff for today, but T said you’d stepped out.”

“Oh. Sorry I missed you.”

“No big deal, it wasn’t important. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s good.” He continued painting the wall.
 

“Okay,” I said, trying to figure out a way to get him to give me more details, since he wasn’t offering anything up. I wasn’t about to throw T under the bus and ask why he disappeared twice a week without explanation. “Did you have to pick up more supplies?”

“What?” He looked over his shoulder. “No, we’ve got everything covered. Could you toss me the red edger next to you?”

“This thing?” I asked, holding up something rectangular.
 

“Yep, thanks.”

Picking up my brush again, I dipped it in the paint and made smooth strokes along the leg of the table. I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t being more forthcoming, but maybe I just had to come out and say it. It wasn’t like we needed to hide anything from each other.
Right?

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he said.
 

“Where do you go?” When he stopped his movements and looked over his shoulder, I continued, “I’ve noticed you leave for a few hours a couple times a week, and I was just wondering…how come?”

Hunter dropped his gaze, the roller twisting in his hand as if he was weighing what he wanted to say. Then he shook his head slightly. “Just some appointments I couldn’t miss. I come in early those days, if that’s what you’re—”

I held up my hand. “No, that’s not an issue. I was just curious, is all.”

He stared at me, more behind his eyes than what he was saying, but the only response I got was “Okay.” Then he dipped his roller in the tray again and went back to work while I sat there watching him.
 

Was it something bad? He said appointments…did he mean medical ones? Was he sick? Dying? Ugh, no, I did not need that popping into my head. All those damn Nicholas Sparks-type books were rubbing off on me. You know, the ones where the romance is going great and then boom—HEA turned ugly-cry-fest.
 

Maybe Paige was right. Could it be something he was deliberately hiding? I didn’t believe Hunter was the cheating type, but I wasn’t stupid enough to believe any guy under the right circumstances wouldn’t. He was certainly gorgeous enough, and Lord knew I’d thought he was a ladies’ man before we’d started dating.
 

He’d tell me when he was ready to.
Right?
Right.

“THIS WAS A stupid decision. Turn around.” I slumped down in the passenger seat of Paige’s car and covered my face with my hands.
 

“You need answers, and we’re gonna get ’em. Now put your damn wig on.”

I fingered the short bubblegum-pink bob in my hands and wondered again why I’d decided following Hunter today—and involving my bad-influence friend—was a good idea.
 

It was Thursday afternoon, and after picking me up a few blocks down from Licked, Paige and I were trailing my boyfriend as his truck weaved through L.A. on the way to his weekly “appointment.”
 

Paige glanced my way, her own hair hiding underneath long blue locks. Yeah, we didn’t look inconspicuous at all.
 

“You said he gave you the runaround trying to avoid the question. Now you can’t stop wondering what it could be, so after today, we’ll know.”

Sighing, I put on the wig, not happy about my lack of faith.
 

Yes, I was aware how this could monumentally blow up in my face, but if…and see, that was the other option. The “but if” one where it
could
be something notsogood, and didn’t I have a right to know? Still, my stomach felt queasy.
 

“Why do you even have these anyway? Did you get them at a stripper sale?”
 

“Role play,” Paige said, making a left onto a side street.
 

“I’m sorry I asked.”
 

“Hey, look, he’s turning.” She pulled the car off to the side of the road, close enough that we could still see but far enough away he wouldn’t notice. “Wait…are we at an—”

“Elementary school,” I said. “Uh…yeah, we are.”
What…the hell…

“He has kids?”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Maybe he’s picking up a niece or nephew or something.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he parked and went around the school to the back, where I could see a bunch of kids running around on a playground. “No, his family all live in Chicago.”
 

“Oh fuck.”

We stayed silent, my heart beating loudly in my chest, as he reemerged a few minutes later, this time with a little girl by his side. She couldn’t be older than six or so, with long chestnut hair pulled up in two pigtails, and a sweet smile aimed up at Hunter.

My chest clenched. He had a kid? That was what he didn’t want to tell me? But why? I wasn’t anti-children. Hell, I loved them…most of the time.
 

The girl stumbled, but Hunter caught her in time, and then he crouched down to tie the loose laces of her shoe. She nodded at whatever he was saying to her, and then he kissed her forehead and took her book bag for her. Grabbing her hand, he stopped at the edge of the sidewalk and had her look both ways before crossing to his truck.

Their affection was apparent, and it had me melting a little. Hunter with a kid was the sweetest thing I’d ever seen. I wished he’d told me about it, but I couldn’t blame him for not saying anything. Although…he’d been spending most of his nights with me lately, as well as working during the day. When did he have her other than these two days a week? I shook the thought out of my head. I had no room to judge as it was, seeing that I was his untrusting girlfriend stalker. But I was ready to give him back his privacy. It had been wrong for me to come here.

“Can we go now?” I asked Paige, and she started the car back up before U-turning away from the school.
 

Pulling off my wig, I watched in the side mirror as his truck grew smaller in the distance. Hunter wasn’t who I’d thought he was at all when I’d first met him. And it occurred to me then that I’d judged him by his appearance and assumed the same way I’d hated people doing the same to me all these years.