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Bernice smirks at me, sitting back on her heels. “You were thinking ‘hot’ weren’t you, Miss Lily?”
I roll my eyes and mutter, “not how you’re saying it.”
She cackles and pulls two big frosted glasses out of the freezer. In seconds she’s poured two drinks and she hand them to me. Her smile fades quickly.
“You be careful, little Lily. That out there is a man and you’re just a girl. A smart, pretty girl but still just a girl.” Then the smirk shows up on her weathered face again. “And your father would have a shit fit, which is one reason I say go talk to him.”
We both think it at the same time.Anything to piss my father off.
Henry Sweet is the very epitome of a smooth operator. A criminal in a suit and tie. He’s good at finding out the weaknesses of everyone he knows and leveraging it to his own advantage. He’s a master at deceiving people, pushing them to do just what he wants, even if it’s a horrible idea for them.
Jessica Sweet is no better. She’s hard and bitter, drinks to excess and loves to bitch and moan about how awful her life is. Yeah, right. She has a black card with an unlimited cut-off and loves to ‘treat’ herself right. She’s also been known to put the moves on men that come here. I’ve seen her staggering out of her bedroom in the middle of the night, laughing on some man’s arm. A man who’s casually doing up his shirt and zipper.
She’s like a dog in heat most of the time. And I’m thankful as hell that she’s not here today. She took a little trip to a spa out of town. Otherwise she’d be all over that fine man out there and probably tonight, I’d get to see him stagger out of her bedroom with tousled hair and an open shirt, kissing her while she palms…well, let’s just say I’ve seen enough over the years to be well aware of what she’s doing in that room.
And I don’t want my hunky blue-collar guy anywhere near her voracious appetites.
Although he is closer to her age than mine. I’m only twenty-two. Just graduated from college and looking for my first job. And of course, my parents are pushing for me to work for my dad’s company. I haven’t burst his bubble yet but there’s no way in hell. I still have the faint idea in the back of my head that one of these days, that man will be on his way to jail and I don’t intend to be with him when it happens.
I pull myself out of my dark thoughts and grab the ice-cold glasses and lift them to Bernice. “Thank you, Bernie. I appreciate it.”
She wags her finger at me. “You just be careful. And we won’t talk about how you were sitting there all morning, watching that man work.”
She winks at me and I laugh. “Nothing slips by you.”
“Not with you, little one. I know you too well. Which is why I’m saying be careful.”
“I will be.” But I won’t be too careful. I want to know about that man out there. What makes him tick. What makes him happy. I haven’t seen him smile the whole damn time he’s been out there.
I leave the kitchen and walk around the house and out to where his truck is parked on the street out in front. I walk up to his passenger door and lean in the open window.
“Delivery for you.”
His head whips around and for just a second there’s that strange look in his pale eyes that makes them burn like quicksilver. My gut tightens and it feels like my fingers are tingling. Like I’ve just stuck my fingers in a light socket.
Then it’s gone and he looks away. “I don’t need that.”
Huffing, I set them down on the hood and open the door, smirking when he turns to glare at me. “I don’t care if you need it or not. But it’s hot and you look…like you need it.”
I’ve got to stop thinkinghotevery time I think of how he looks.
But he turns in his seat and grabs the glasses out of my hand as I shimmy my big ass up in the seat. He does it automatically even though I don’t think he wants to.
A gentleman then. I like that. Most of the guys I meet feign being a gentleman but underneath, they tend to be sharks in suits like my father.
I settle in the seat and he hands me the one glass, lifting the other to take a sip, his dark brow lifting. He swallows two big mouthfuls and then wipes his lips on his hand.
“Good,” he says.
That must be an understatement. There’s a little bit of lemonade stuck to his lip and I have the most insane urge to reach over and swipe it off and then lick it off my fingers.
Heat flares in my belly and twists up like knots in places I’ve never felt them.
“How long are you going to be here?”
“Shouldn’t you be asking my name, little one? You sure are pretty friendly. It’s not really safe to be that way with someone you don’t know. And you don’t know me at all,” he says in a harsh, gruff voice that grates along my sensitive skin.
“What’s your name?” I whisper, taking a long sip of my drink, trying to cool myself off.
