He protected me.
He smiled when he saw me—tongue out, tail in a low wag. I continued my way up the sidewalk, feigning surprise when he trotted toward me in spite of Slade barking his own command.
“Hey, Jerry.” I squatted down to give him double the love Miss Sophisticated gave him … and I had a treat in my pocket because part of me anticipated—hoped for—a chance encounter. “Oh, buddy … I love you too.” I closed my eyes and turned my face side to side while he showered me with kisses.
Slade cleared his throat.
I opened my eyes—noticing his friend must have gone inside. “Sorry.” I stood, sliding a treat into Jericho’s mouth along the way. “I know it’s hard for you to know he likes me more.” On a shrug, I bit my lips together to keep my shit-eating grin under control.
“Inside,” he said to Jericho while looking at me.
Jericho turned and headed to the back door.
“If you have a job to do … Jerry can hang with me tonight. I’m alone this evening.”
“Jericho. And he doesn’t need a babysitter.”
“Maybe I do.”
His brow tensed a fraction, contemplation settling into a slight frown for a few seconds, before he whistled and Jericho came running. “Send him home when your friends get back.”
Why was the only word that sat on the tip of my idle tongue? Why protect me?
“What are you going to do?” Okay, apparently “why” wasn’t the only word on the tip of my tongue after all. Six other words were in line first.
“Does it matter?”
Letting my gaze settle over his shoulder to the firehouse and images of Miss Sophisticated waiting for him, I lifted a single shoulder. “No. Just curious. Is she your girlfriend?”
“Does it matter?”
“I hate you.” I rolled my eyes. “Worst communication skills ever.”
“Good. Hate me. I prefer it.”
I recoiled. I didn’t really hate anyone. It wasn’t my personality to be hateful, vengeful, or hold grudges. Why did Slade Wylder want me to hate him? It was a joke. I hated his lack of sharing information.
“If you’re selling her some shit that will ruin her life, may I suggest you rethink that? Not cool, Wylder.”
“Noted.”
Tipping my chin up, I gave him several tiny nods. “Okay then. I’ll take Jerry to my house and spoil him. Maybe he comes back to you … maybe he doesn’t.”
Slade let his gaze slide down my body, a slow and easy trip. He didn’t do that when we met. Somewhere along the way, he decided it was okay. I wasn’t sure what reaction he desired from me.
Maybe nothing.
Maybe he did it out of pure selfish desire.
“I’m only allowing this because I love Jerry.”
Curious eyes met mine, slightly squinted.
I smirked. “Stripping me with those eyes of yours.”
Moments …
I collected moments in my mind, my heart, my soul, like Aubrey collected rare coins—my mom dying, my dad spending a few years thoroughly drunk. Mostly bad moments—permanent scars.
That moment I tucked into my memory forever as one of the first truly great moments.
Wylder …
The corners of his mouth quirked into pure sin. If Satan was hot as fuck, his name would have been Slade Wylder, and I would have been in a whole helluva lot of trouble.
“He’ll come home.”
“We’ll see.” I turned making a few kissy noises for Jericho to follow me.
“I know where to find him.”
A grin filled my face as I continued up the sidewalk. “I’m counting on it.”
I made it to the house with my shoulders back and some extra sway to my gait, but as soon as I shut the door behind us, I deflated. Who was that woman? He had no business doing anything physically straining with a wound that hadn’t healed. I should have reminded him of that.
Jericho and I watched a movie, ate popcorn, stared out the window at the firehouse, and played hide-and-seek.
“How do you feel about slumber parties?” I asked him.
He tilted his head to one side and then the other side. I took it as a solid maybe.
“It’s a full bed. But I hug the side, so we’ll make it work. Come on.”
I spied out my window at the firehouse. The Lexus SUV was still there. A knot formed in my stomach. It was almost midnight. How long does it take to screw someone?
Then again … Kara and Missy were still not home from their double date. Lots of sex happened that night … except at my house. Jericho was the best companion. He didn’t care if I shaved my legs. I didn’t care if he had questionable breath.
After brushing my teeth and letting him out for a final round of pissing his name in the tiny yard, we settled into bed. Ten seconds tops … that was all it took for me to fall asleep. The early morning waves wiped me out completely that day.
I woke from a dead sleep. Minutes? Hours later? I had no idea. All I knew was my warm, fuzzy friend climbed out of bed.
“Jesus!” I sat up and scooted to the back of my bed, hugging my legs to my chest as a dark figure towered over me at the edge of the bed.
“I told you to send him home.”
The flirty joke about keeping his dog and him knowing where to find me … well, it went too far. Could he not go one night without his pooch?
When my breathing settled down, I swallowed to lubricate my dry throat. “It was almost midnight. My friends weren’t home and your friend was still there doing whatever the two of you were doing—drugs, sex … whatever. You really should take it easy until your wound heals.”
“Thanks for your concern.” He turned and headed toward my bedroom door.
“Have you changed the bandage?” I slid to the side of my bed and stood.
“Don’t worry about it.” He opened the door completely.
“Well, I do.” I took several steps toward him.
He turned. “Why?” he asked just above a whisper.
Because I think you saved my life.
“I don’t want your arm to fall off. How would you hug Jerry?” I turned around and flicked on the lamp by my nightstand, squinting against the ocular intrusion. As soon as my eyes adjusted to the light, I focused on Slade, but his focus remained glued to my nighttime attire—pink bikini panties and a matching pink tank top slid up past my belly button and the piercing in it.
“It’s been changed.” He blinked, wetting his lips.
“I don’t believe you. I’m sure it’s hard for you to do with one hand. Just give me a sec to grab the first aid kit.” I broke through the confines of his intense gaze permanently parked on my body and brushed past him to the bathroom. When I returned, he was sitting on the end of my bed, and Jericho had collapsed onto the cold air vent by the window.
I set the supplies on the bed beside him. “It’s three in the morning,” I said in a soft voice. “How did you get in here? If Kara and Missy are home, they would have locked the door.”
He refrained from answering.
“Is this payback for you thinking I broke into your house?”
No answer.
Standing in front of him, waiting for answers I knew he would never give me, I nodded to his shirt. “Can you remove it?”