Page 67 of Take The Risk

​“Here we are.” I pulled to a stop in front of her building, hopping out before she could come up with another excuse. I told Phoebe to climb into the front seat while I walked Olivia to the door. Despite not wanting to encourage her, it was past midnight and she was a woman alone, which meant I was walking her to her door for safety reasons. Period.

​Climbing back into my truck, I wasn’t surprised to see Phoebe still sitting in the back, her face turned away from where I’d just walked Olivia. I had a feeling the physical distance she was keeping from me was a metaphor for the emotional distance she wanted to put between us. That just wasn’t going to work for me.

​Throwing the truck into drive, I let her think. I could see her rationalizing what happened, convincing herself we shouldn’t happen. Olivia, I knew, was a big part of why.

​She could rationalize all she wanted. Not only were we going to happen, but I was done waiting. Tonight, I was going to make it real clear that she’s mine. The rage I felt at watching Prescott dance with her practically all night had my hand gripping my steering wheel so hard the leather squeaked. Yeah, tonight she was going to find out that I’d kill any man who touched her. Friend or not.

​We were almost at Wade’s when she emerged from her reverie.

​I’d thought about dropping her off at home, sparing her the walk, but I figured she’d lock the door and pretend to be asleep when I came back.

​“This isn’t my house,” she stated the obvious when I pulled into Wade’s driveway.

​“Nope.” I hopped out of the truck, opening her door. Not bothering to wait for her to get out, I reached in, unclipped her seatbelt, and pulled her from the truck, thinking the confused look on her face was rather adorable.

​“I need to go home,” she pointed out, glaring down the quiet street. I could see she was trying to work out where she was.

​“And you are. We’re just dropping my truck here to keep prying eyes at bay. Your street is a couple over. It won’t take us five minutes to get there.”

​Her mouth opened, an argument ready to fly, and I laid a finger against it.

​Her skin was so soft...

​Leaning down, I made my intentions clear. “We’re going to walk to your house, where I’m going to come inside, and we’re going to get a few things straight. This”—I nodded to Wade’s place—“is Wade’s house. No one will question if my truck is here overnight. If I park at your place, there will be questions.”

​“We don’t need to talk tonight. We can talk tomorrow.”

​Glancing around, I made sure no one was up and looking. I slid my hand around her neck. Kissing her hard and quick, I told her, “We’re talking tonight, Phoebe. Now, we can do it here for everyone to see, which really doesn’t bother me, or we do it at your place. Either way, we’re doing it.”

​She could hear the resolution in my voice. I couldn’t give a damn about claiming her publicly, but I knew she would care. Those were some of the issues we were going to be sorting out. The sooner we did that, the sooner I could get what I wanted: her. In any and every way I could have her.

​Her mouth snapped shut. Turning on her heel, she stormed down the driveway.

​I followed her, finding it cute the way she was walking off without knowing exactly where she was going. It didn’t hurt that I got to watch the delicate sway of her ass in that sinful skirt with each agitated step she took. My dick throbbed as I watched her.

​“This way.” I grabbed her arm when she went to take a wrong turn. “And while you’re pretending like I’m not here…” That earned me a disgruntled frown. I bit back a smile. “You should know I won’t be taking Olivia to her grandparents’ party. I made those plans before I even met you, and if I do go, it will be with you on my arm.”

​Phoebe stopped dead.

​Yes, I thought, progress. I was getting through.

​Just as quickly as she stopped, she started walking again.

​Two minutes later, we were entering her darkened house. The front porch light wasn’t on, which gave me pause. Looking at it, I could see the bulb wasn’t there and there were exposed wires. I was going to call the electrician who was supposed to be out this week and give him hell because seriously, what the fuck?

​Closing the door behind us, I locked it, not sure what to make of the two new security locks or the security alarm panel I found inside.

​Phoebe went to it and punched in a code. Even as I wondered at the sudden implementation of it, I was perversely glad she had more security. I’d never liked the idea of a woman being alone and vulnerable in her home. I found I slept a whole lot less when it was Phoebe.

​Dropping her purse and keys onto the table she’d added to the vestibule while I was gone, she turned around. “I don’t want to talk.”

​Yeah, that wasn’t happening. “We’re talking, sweetheart.” And if I was lucky, I’d convince her to do it while sitting in my lap. Fat chance, I know, but a guy can dream.

​She shook her head and frustration grew in me, and I said, “I’m not going to—”

​“I want you.”

​Silence reigned in the quiet of the house as her words sank in. I wanted her, too. My cock, hearing those sweet words fall softly from her lips, was already aching. “Phoebe”—I ran a frustrated hand down my face—“I want you, too. Christ, I want you. But until we’re clear on what’s going on.”