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“As I said, I’m not an idiot. I wasn’t seen. I’m going to give it to you because I know you’ll do something more dangerous if I don’t, but you must return it to me when you’re done so he never finds it. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good, you have ten minutes. Use it somewhere you aren’t seen.”
He’s taken by surprise when I hug him. “Thank you, Marco. I knew you were a good guy.”
“I care about your father, but if you get caught, I can’t protect you.”
“I know,” I whisper before I go back inside.
The fan buzzing in the bathroom should muzzle the typing. Emotions zip through me as I type, everything from nervous excitement to debilitating fear, but none strong enough to stop me.
I toss the sheet over a sleeping Peyton before getting out of bed and strolling to the kitchen. Sid phoned earlier to let me know he filed a police report on her behalf, but she’ll have to go to the station in the morning and speak with a detective before an arrest can be made. She put on a tough face, but I know she’s scared and not just of her coworker. Eduardo harming her lingers in the back of her mind as it does mine. Failing her is not an option. I’ll die before I let him near Peyton.
My cell phone buzzes on the counter and I see a text from an unknown number. It reads, My dear. That’s it. I consider replying, but as Peyton strolls into the kitchen wearing nothing but one of my T-shirts, I decide the messenger probably had
the wrong number.
“I’m starving,” she mumbles.
“Maybe we should eat more and fuck less,” I say with a smirk.
She flips me off and opens the fridge. The under curve of her fine ass peeks out from the bottom of my T-shirt as she leans over looking for something. My dick takes immediate notice. When she sets a jar of pickles and a bottle of ranch dressing on the counter, what she’s concocting holds my focus. She grabs a bowl from the cupboard and then squirts ranch into it. I exaggerate gagging when she dips a pickle chip into the ranch and eats it.
“Want one?” She holds out a pickle chip, dripping in slimy white dressing.
My face squishes up by itself as I stare at her offering in disgust. “I’m never kissing you again.”
“Liar.” She bites down on the pickle and dressing runs down the side of her mouth. She ignores it and continues crunching.
“You Shingle Springs’ girls are classy,” I tease, wiping her mouth with a paper towel.
I can’t help but laugh as she sucks her fingers in mock fashion.
“Let’s go out to dinner?” I ask.
“Like an actual date?”
“Yes, as long as you think you can chew with your mouth closed . . . Ouch,” I scream when she smacks me in the arm.
She slips my T-shirt over her head, exposing her beautiful naked body as she saunters to the bedroom. I love that she’s not shy. As if she has no insecurities beneath the surface that could ruin what we have. As long as I keep my issues in check, a relationship between us could actually work.
My dick beckons me to stay in, but I want to take her out and show her she’s more than a bang buddy. Or maybe it’s myself I want to convince.
Either way, this is the first time in forever that I’ve wanted to be out and seen with someone.
Peyton glows as she exits the bedroom in a sleek black dress and a new pair of tall black heels that make me weak in the knees.
“Stunning,” I compliment, taking her hand and spinning her one time.
She curtsies in gratitude. “This is the fanciest thing I brought with me.”
“It’s perfect.” My gaze scours over her curves until settling on her feet. “But can you walk in those?”
“I’m a pro.” She lifts an eyebrow.
“Special school you Shingle Springs’ girls go to?”
