“Less important.”
I pointed at him.“You are trouble.”
“Never said I wasn’t.”
I climbed out of bed and grabbed clean clothes from the dresser while trying very hard not to feel his eyes on me.I failed.Mostly because I liked feeling his eyes on me.
I dressed quickly in jeans and a soft yellow T-shirt, then twisted my hair into a messy knot at the back of my head.Wheels pulled on jeans and a black shirt, then shrugged into his cut with the same easy confidence he did everything.
By the time we stepped into the hallway, the clubhouse was still mostly quiet.
A floorboard creaked somewhere downstairs.A door closed softly at the far end of the hall.Someone coughed behind a closed bedroom door, then muttered a curse.
Wheels took my hand as we headed down the stairs.
He didn’t ask.I didn’t pull away.
At the bottom of the stairs, the common room looked softer in the early morning light.Sun filtered through the front windows, catching dust in the air and making the patched plywood look less ugly.The bar was clean from the night before, though a stack of plates sat by the sink and someone had left a half-empty bag of chips on the pool table.
Gramps was asleep in the recliner.
Of course.
One boot rested on the coffee table, his arms crossed over his chest, chin tucked low.Every few seconds, a snore rattled out of him, then stopped long enough to make me wonder if he was alive before starting again.
Wheels glanced over.“Medical protocol says he’s fine.”
I bit back a laugh.“The snoring system?”
“You’ve learned fast.”
“I had good teachers.”
He squeezed my hand once before letting go and moving toward the kitchen.
I followed him behind the bar and into the small kitchen.It was cleaner than I expected, though that probably had more to do with Tempi than any of the men.A cast iron skillet sat drying on the stove, and a bowl of limes from taco night rested near the sink.
Wheels grabbed the coffee pot and started filling it.
I leaned my hip against the counter and watched him.“You know how to make coffee?”
He turned his head slowly.“You think I survived this long without coffee?”
“I don’t know.You seem like the type who just drinks motor oil and calls it breakfast.”
“Only when we’re out of coffee.”
I laughed.
Wheels looked over his shoulder at me, and for a second, his expression softened.
“What?”I asked.
“Nothing.”
“That’s never nothing.”
He filled the filter with coffee grounds.“Like hearing you laugh.”
