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Uncomfortable, I shifted my feet. "What did he do? Why did you bring him here?"
"He kept body slamming the door when I tried to leave. Like full force. Then he would fall, whine, and charge at it again. But he's here now, all safe and sound with Mommy and Daddy," she added a bit pointedly, letting her lips twitch. "And I have a job to get to. Doggy-Daddy, nice to put a face to the abs," she said, making my cheeks heat. "And sis, I'm just saying... foxtrot lessons are never a waste of time. Usually mutually rewarding too," she added, waving a hand as she turned and went to the door. "Cock God," she said, steepling her hands in front of her nose, and bowing her head to the six-foot-tall penis statue that sat beside the front door. "May your blessings rain... actually, ew, no. Goodnight!"
Then she was gone.
We were alone again.
And I was praying to hell that he had no idea what 'foxtrot lessons' actually meant.
"That's your sister?" he asked, moving to stand, still reaching downward to pet Coop's head as he whacked it against his leg.
"That's my sister," I agreed.
"She's a character."
"You have no idea," I agreed, smiling a little because, no matter how much she might try to embarrass me at times, she was still my favorite person.
"Where does she work?"
"The library."
"You've got to be shitting me," he said, smile wry.
"Nope. She enjoys scaring all the old people with her colored hair and tattooed body."
"And piercings."
"Those too."
There was a long, uncomfortable silence following that, neither of us seeming to have any idea what to say. What could you say in a situation like this?
So, I never expected to meet my prison pen pal. Oh, and by the way, I think about you when I masturbate?
That wasn't going to work.
You're so beautiful it makes me forget that you were a felon locked up for aggravated assault.
I was pretty sure that wouldn't be appropriate either.
"Autumn," Eli said, voice a mix of soft, but also heavy at the same time. "Thank you."
Startled, I felt myself jerking back, brows drawing together. "For what?"
"Take your pick," he said, shrugging. "For taping the arrest when you thought it was getting too rough. For taking Coop in because he was too fucking ugly for the pound. For dealing with his crazy ass all these years. I know he is a chore. For writing me to tell me you had him so I didn't worry. For fucking writing me at all. Thank you."
There was almost a weighted feeling in my chest, somehow reacting to the depth in his tone. "You're welcome. For all of that. But, I mean, I think any decent person would have done the same thing."
"Take the compliment, sweetheart," he said, smiling.
I gave him a small one back. "Fine. I take it. I'm an awesome human being."
"There you go," he agreed, giving me a smile that suddenly didn't reach his eyes. "I don't want to keep you from work," he said after a minute, looking torn. Between what, I wasn't sure.
"Yes, because there seems to be an absolute rush on floggers right now," I laughed, waving a hand at my empty store.
"I know this is weird," he went on, looking apologetic.
"It was... unexpected," I countered. "I hadn't heard from you for so long. Peyton was convinced you got shanked in the shower," I added, lips twitching.
He chuckled at that, the low, rumbling noise moving around my belly deliciously. "Nah, I got out this morning," he admitted.
He got out this morning and one of his first stops was to share She's Bean Around coffee with me?
That was crazy.
And like super sweet.
But mostly crazy, right?
Unless, maybe it wasn't.
What man didn't get out of prison and think of a woman first? Right? And, clearly, he and his ex weren't going to happen again. Sure, he could hit a bar and find a woman. He was gorgeous and charming. But why not go right to the chick who was writing you prison letters for years like some freak, right?
Ugh.
Great.
I made myself seem like some chick with a prison fetish or something. The kind of girl who always wanted to fuck a bad boy.
That, well, it absolutely wasn't me.
Writing him had been completely out of the norm. And having sexual fantasies about a man who did criminal things was just insane for me.
It was, what was the term, an isolated incident.
I mean, of course, I was incredibly attracted to him. Anyone with eyes would be.
But that didn't mean that, now that he was free, I was going to drop to my knees at the, as Peyton put it, altar.
That wasn't my style.
No matter how hot he was.
"What's that look for?" he asked, making me shock back, not having realized I had swum out into an ocean of not-great thoughts.
