Page 19 of Weston’s Treasure

And he was also pleased as fuck, Silver was the one reaching for him.

8

If Weston was bored when we’d been shopping he’d done a good job hiding it. The only snag was when we’d gotten in line and I remembered I had no purse, therefore no way to pay. An argument ensued, right in the checkout line of TJ Maxx. Then when I relented because I had no choice but to get a few things because I had nothing, and tried to put back most of it, Weston looked like he was going to lose his mind.

His grip on my hand tightened, something else that had been frightening and exciting at the same time. We’d held hands like teenagers the whole time we were walking around the store. At first, I wanted the connection—it had only been that morning I’d been taken prisoner and thought I was going to die, but shortly after we got into the store I continued to seek out his touch simply because I liked it.

I knew I was borrowing trouble, but couldn’t for the life of me stop myself. It was stupid and I was going to get burned, but at that juncture, I didn’t care, and a part of me knew the pain of his departure from my life would be worth it.

Dinner was great, except when I tried to order a cup of soup, since again I had no way to pay. Weston got pissed and ordered me crab cakes, a salad, and a bowl of lobster bisque. When I protested the amount of food he’d ordered he simply growled “babe”, something I’d learned was his go-to word. He could use it as an answer, a statement, or as a question. It was mildly annoying but when the food came I’d forgotten all about my irritation.

Another thing I learned that didn’t annoy me was Weston was funny. He didn’t crack jokes or have an arsenal of one-liners—it was the way he told mundane stories. He was animated when he talked, and his delivery was hilarious. It was also very apparent he was close to his team, respected them as partners in the business they owned together, but it went beyond that, they were like brothers. And he genuinely liked his friends’ women—McKenna and Kennedy.

He told me a little bit about what they’d gone through and encouraged me to take McKenna up on her offer to talk. I was still on the fence about that. Growing up I didn’t go to a regular school, so I’d never had friends my own age. That made making them in college difficult. There was also the fact that most of my classmates were men, so I’d never really had women friends. I knew my classmates’ girlfriends but none of them were ever particularly nice to me. And part of me understood those women probably didn’t like that I was hanging out with their boyfriends even if it was strictly platonic.

I was afraid McKenna and Kennedy would treat me the same way and not want Nixon and Jameson to help me. And truthfully I needed the help more than I needed friends so I thought it was best to stay to myself. Besides, after this was over it wasn’t like I’d be around them.

So, shopping was good, dinner was better, the drive home was relaxed, but now that we were back at Weston’s house alone in the kitchen I was no longer feeling the calm the evening had afforded me. I was on-edge and didn’t know what to do with my hands. I was fidgeting and it pissed me off I was acting like a dumb schoolgirl with a boy she had a crush on.

Which may’ve been the case—not the schoolgirl part—but the dumb crush was a definite possibility.

Weston finished pulling two bottles of water out of the fridge, set them on the counter, then twisted so he was leaning against it with both his hands at his sides holding onto the edge. The new position did nothing to settle my nerves. Now I had the perfect view of his front. Top to toe, the man was gorgeous and by the smirk on his face, he knew it.

“Come here, Silver.”

“No way.” I shook my head for emphasis.

I didn’t mind the few feet of space between us.

“Do you think I’d hurt you?”

“What? No. Of course not.”

“Do you think I’d do something that would make you uncomfortable?”

Oh my God. I didn’t like where this was going, mainly because I sucked at lying and there’d never been a time when I successfully pulled off a fib. Not even a small, white one. Everyone could tell when I was being dishonest so I just bluntly told the truth. But right then, I wanted to lie. I wanted to hide from Weston because the truth would be embarrassing.

“No.”

“Then why aren’t you movin’?”

“Because I’m afraid if I do, I’ll do something that will make you uncomfortable.”

His smirk turned into an out-and-out mega-watt smile and sweet Jesus my panties dampened and it was a good thing he hadn’t let me put any clothes back or I’d have to do laundry every time he smiled like that.

He didn’t look sexy, it went so far beyond that it wasn’t funny. This man could and would devastate me. No man should be as beautiful as Weston. It should be outlawed. A crime against the sisterhood.

“Babe, come here.”

I shook my head and my feet stayed cemented to the floor. At least there was that, I was paralyzed by his good looks. Never had I ever been so mesmerized by a smile. But in my defense it was wicked and the promise behind it was something, in my current state of arousal, I couldn’t understand.

“Then I’m comin’ to you,” he announced and even though I wanted to run as I’d mentioned, I was freaking paralyzed. I couldn’t get my legs to move but had no problem with running my mouth.

“Oh, no. You need to stay right where you are.”

“Why’s that, Silver?” he asked, pushing off the counter without waiting for my answer.

“Because you’re dangerous,” I blurted out.