“Got lots of friends?”
“Kind of. I'm still the new kid.”
I nod in understanding. School is hard. I hated it.
“When did you start?” I wonder how long they’ve been here. I already know they’re not locals.
“A few months ago.” James doesn’t give me much. I get it; our trust hasn’t formed yet.
“Where did you move from?” His eyes finally meet mine before he looks at Nikki, then back at me.
Quietly, he admits, “I’m not allowed to say.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
James looks at me, and for a moment, I think he might talk, but his lips remain closed. Further cementing the fact that they’re on the run.
“Okay, it’s home time.” Nikki steps toward us like a fresh morning breeze, although she looks tired as hell.
“Thanks for your help, Sutton.” There it is again. Like Nikki, James has a hint of a posh accent that comes out a little more prevalent in Nikki when she’s tired and not trying to hide it. Old money.
“Anytime, buddy.” I stand with him, my ass now completely numb, a big session at the gym needed.
“I’m sorry if he was taking too much of your time.” Nikki looks up at me sweetly, and her bruise shines like only a black eye can.
“I liked the company. Come on, let’s get you home.” I grab my bag that was delivered from the drugstore and start to walk with her out the back door.
“Um, home?”
“At a guess, I’m assuming you just worked a twelve-hour shift on your feet with a black eye that’s probably thumping across your head about now. James has had a full day at school and an hour of homework already. So I can drop you off at home today.” We let the back door close behind us, my truck all black and shiny waiting for us in the lot.
“Oh, I don’t want to impose.” Ever polite, her jaw works overtime. She hates taking things from people. I notice the look on her face whenever Rochelle offers her food or the little extras.
“I have the time,” I tell her easily.
She waves me off. “No, that’s really not necessary. We can walk.”
“I know, but the truck will be quicker. Look at him.” I nod toward James, who’s already yawning, and see her face fall. Her shoulders a little too.
“Come on.” I take her bag and then James’ backpack and walk to the truck. I’m not used to driving a truck of this size. Back home in LA, I had either a driver or my sports car. Yet another thing that I’m enjoying here in Whispers—the freedom to drive.
“In you get, buddy.” I don’t even bother waiting to see if James can climb up in the back because he can’t; it’s too high up. So I grab his waist and lift him up, sitting him in the seat, and he smiles. Putting on his seatbelt, I close the door.
“Your turn.” I open the front passenger door.
“I got it.” She’s quick, stepping in front of me, grabbing on to the handles and pulling herself up. She gets halfway and slips a little, but I catch her.
She squeals as her ass falls straight into my hold. “Whoa!”
“I’ve got you.” My words are a mere whisper straight to her ear, my lips almost teasing the flesh of her neck where she’s leaning against my chest. She takes a sharp breath in, and I have no idea how I’m remaining gentlemanly when her peachy ass is right in my palms. But I do. I lift her slowly the rest of the way, placing her in the seat before she looks at me.
“Thank you.” Her cheeks are pink again. The color is fast becoming one of my favorites. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Sawyer’s right. I can’t entertain the idea of a woman, for a good time or a long time. My life’s a mess. I’m in hiding, and I have no idea what my next steps are beyond the Whiteman’s Whiskey launch and building a base here. But as her lips turn up a little at the sides, my body melts, and just like that, I’m back to not caring what I should be doing and focusing on what I want to. I close the door and run around the truck, eager to get back to her.
Driving out of the small parking lot, I turn in the direction I’ve seen her walking, having no idea where I’m going.
“It’s just a mile down here.” I whip my head around to her with a frown.
“You guys walk a mile every day?”
