Untitled Book 2 (5 page)

“You sure? We can go eat somewhere else if you like,” I say as we get back into the car, glancing over in her direction. “I can grab a burrito on the way home.”

“A burrito actually sounds good,” she says, kicking her bare feet up on the dashboard. “Chicken, white rice, and chipotle sauce.”

I grin at that. “Fuck yeah. Looks like we finally agree on something.”

“I
CAN
order things online,” I explain to him. “It's not my name or credit card, so it can't be traced to me. So that's why I don't really need to do any shopping.” I walk by some green grapes and pick up a bag, putting them in the cart. “Grocery shopping, however . . . I'm in heaven right now.”

Vinnie shakes his head in amusement and grabs some salad. “Are we going healthy then?”

I grin as I put some potatoes in the cart. “Half healthy, half junk food?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “My kind of girl.”

We both look into each other's eyes after he says that, a weird tension building between the two of us. It's me who clears my throat and changes the subject. “I think the two burritos you had covers the junk food for the day.”

He shakes his head, disagreeing. “There's corn and shit in there. That makes it healthy. What are we going to do for dinner?”

“You cooking?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“I was hoping you would,” he says, flashing his straight white teeth at me.

“Since you took me out today, I'm sure I can make an exception. What would you—”

“Lasagna with breaded chicken,” he says quickly, before I can even finish the sentence.

“Isn't that a little weird?” I say, brow furrowing. “Did you make that up, pairing those two together, or is it an actual thing?”

“You asked and that's what I'd like.” He pauses. “Please.”

“Okay,” I say, dragging the word out. “Sounds easy enough. I've never made breaded chicken before, but I'll just google a recipe.” I pull out my phone and check the ingredients. “Simple.”

“Fuckin' awesome,” he mutters under his breath, making me smile.

“What about dessert?”

“I'll let you choose that,” he says, grabbing some steaks and putting them in the cart. “Anything chocolate works for me.”

“How about Oreo and Nutella cheesecake?” I ask him, knowing the recipe by heart.

He stops in his tracks. “You can make that, no shit?”

“No shit.”

He smiles and I return it.

“You're not so bad, Shayla,” he says, turning his face away from me, but I see the corner of his lips kick up.

“Right back at you, Vinnie,” I say, watching him as he bends over to pick up something. My gaze zones in on his tight ass. “Right back at you.”

He stands and turns around, once again catching me ogling
him. This time though, he just smiles cheekily and sends a wink in my direction. Red-cheeked, I look at the bakery section, pretending a loaf of bread just became the most interesting thing in the world.

I hear his deep chuckle from behind me, and it makes my lips twitch. It's not my fault the man is good-looking, and he isn't even really my type—I generally go for professional men. I do love me a man in a suit, but something about his rugged looks and bad-boy charm has me curious. Yes, he can be an asshole, as I found out yesterday, but today he's being nice, playful even. I can see that he's on alert, checking our surroundings and noticing every detail, but he still manages to be relaxed. Today has almost been like two friends hanging out instead of a bodyguard and his client running errands. How things can change in just a few hours. We pay for the groceries and load them in the back of the car. On the way back to the house, Vinnie's phone rings and he puts it on speaker.

“Vinnie?” a woman says into the phone.

“Yeah, Faye. How's everything? You're on speaker, by the way.”

“Am I? Oooh. Hello, whoever it is in the car with you,” Faye says, making Vinnie flash me an amused glance. “I'm just calling to see how you are.”

“I'm fine, Faye,” he says gently, making me think he cares about this woman. “How's the princess? And the tummy?”

“Both good,” Faye says, and even I can hear the smile in her voice. “It's Lana's birthday today, so remember to call her.”

“I will,” Vinnie says. “What are you guys doing for it?”

“Party at the clubhouse,” Faye says, giggling. “Anna was sup
posed to make her a cake, right? We were going to make her a cake in the shape of a penis, but then Anna calls me this morning and was like, ‘I can't make the penis cake; it's too hard!'”

Faye starts laughing, and I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing with her. “She didn't even realize what she said! I laughed for like five minutes before she got it. Good times.”

I hear a woman yell in the background, “You try making a penis cake! It
is
hard!”

“You called me just to tell me that story, didn't you?” Vinnie asks, smirking. “What cake is Lana getting, then?”

“Red velvet with cream cheese icing.”

“That we bought from the store!” I hear the other woman yell.

Vinnie laughs, then says, “Tell Anna I said hey, and I'll call Lana tonight to wish her happy birthday. You all stay out of trouble, you hear me?”

“Okay,” Faye says into the line. “We miss you, Vinnie!”

Vinnie looks a little uncomfortable, but says, “I miss you all too.”

Faye cuts the line, and Vinnie and I are left in silence.

“They sound fun,” I say, hoping he'll offer me some information. I know nothing about the man next to me except that he's a biker, he knows my cousin, and that he's both sexy and infuriating. I'd definitely like to know more, starting with who those women are, the ones he seems to be so close to.

“They are” is all he says though, leading me to wonder if one of the women belongs to him. I ignore the feeling of disappointment that hits me, knowing it has no reason to be there. Yesterday I wanted to strangle him, and today, what? I'm upset he might be taken? There's definitely something wrong with me.
What did it matter if he has a girlfriend? By the end of the week he'll be gone and I'll never see him again anyway. On to the next bodyguard, until I'm probably hunted down by my father's enemies.

Yeah, I know just how serious the situation I'm in is. I can pretend otherwise all I want, but the truth is, eventually they're either going to catch me or I'm going to have to leave the country with a whole new identity. I spoke to Talon about the latter, and although he doesn't want me to leave, he says it's an option he's considering. I know Talon is working on something because he told me he just needs a little time. I really don't want to leave, so I'm hoping we figure something else out. I have some ideas, but I think for now I'll keep them to myself.

“Any last stops?” he asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Nope,” I say, popping the
p
. I look out of the window. “I'm good.”

“All right. See, we survived our first outing without any of those bastards finding us,” he jokes, turning up the music a little louder. “We've got this.”

“Don't even joke,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Besides, we haven't made it home yet, and you might have just jinxed us.”

“I don't believe in any of that shit,” he replies, silencing his phone as it rings again. “You make your own luck.”

“You don't believe in fate?”

He shakes his head.

“What do you believe in, then?” I ask, turning to study his profile.

“I believe in loyalty, my family, and working my ass off to make sure things go my way” is his reply. I contemplate his words. That was all he believed in? Why did that make me feel
a little . . . sad? He was a grown-ass man, and like he'd said, his parents didn't want him, so maybe that's why he doesn't believe in fate. When he says his family, he has to be talking about his MC. For a moment, I feel a tiny bit jealous that he has that. My father is in prison, my mom died a few years back, and any friends I have are fading away as time goes on without my contacting them, so really, I'm alone.

And he isn't.

So while I was the one who got adopted as a child, he's the one who has a family now. Funny how that works out, isn't it? We can relate to each other, but at the same time we can't. Growing up in a world like this is hard enough; I can't imagine having to do it without parents, or someone to look after you. The foster system is a joke, everyone knows that, and God only knows what he went through.

“Loyalty is everything,” I agree, thrumming my fingers on my thigh. “I do believe in fate and destiny and all that crap too though.”

He chuckles as he pulls onto our street. “All that crap, huh? Sounds real important to you. But yes, you seem like one of those happy-go-lucky, always-look-on-the-bright-side type of people.”

I don't think that that's a bad thing. There's nothing wrong with being hopeful, seeing the positive in situations and the good in people.

“You know what I mean,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I'm a closet romantic. I think that everything that's meant to be will be, when the time is right.”

“Jesus,” he grumbles, stopping the car at the front of the gate. “Is this the shit that Zada Ryan writes? No wonder none of the men will read it except Tracker.”

I jump on that. “Who's Tracker?”

“Stay here,” he commands, leaving the car to put the gate code in. When he comes back I ask, “Is Zada Ryan one of your biker chicks? That's how you know her, isn't it? That's so fucking cool!”

He glances at me and frowns. “You have crazy eyes again.”

Great, that's twice he's seen my fangirl face.

“You're not going to answer me, are you?” I gather.

“Nope,” he says, sounding cheerful. “I told you, after this I'll organize a day where you can meet her yourself. Your own private signing.”

“If I'm good,” I mutter, remembering his past words.

“You planning on being bad?” he asks, parking the car.

“I was,” I admit. “I was going to be a little bitch and make your life hell for judging me when you didn't even know me.”

Vinnie snaps his head to me, eyes wide. His shoulders start shaking as he begins to laugh. “Are you serious?” He hits the steering wheel, laughing harder. “You were going to make my life hell?”

“Yes,” I say, eyes narrowing at his amusement. He clearly doesn't appreciate how uncomfortable I could have made his situation. “I was.”

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, shoulders shaking some more. “Shay, you're fuckin' hilarious.”

Shay.

No one I know calls me Shay, but I find myself liking it. And even though I wasn't trying to be hilarious—I was just being honest—I also like when he laughs.

“Come on, let's get inside. You can tell me more about this nefarious plan of yours.”

“S
O
you were just going to be a bitch? That's not much of a plan,” Vinnie says, eyes dancing with amusement. He grabs the fruit and vegetables and packs them away in the fridge.

“I was going to behave the way you expected me to,” I say, opening the pantry and putting away the items in my hands. I leave out everything I need to make dinner. “You were making me out to be this spoiled little diva, so I was going to lay it on thick and make your life miserable while you're here.”

“So what happened?” he asks, leaning back against the counter and watching me. “You changed your mind? You were still a bit of a bitch yesterday, you know.”

“You took me out for the first time in a month, and you took me to the pet store,” I say, my eyes gentle on him. “And you sat there for over an hour without complaining while I hugged puppies. Not many men would do that. So I forgave you for being a judgmental asshole because there is obviously more to you than meets the eye.”