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“Ugh!” I actually stomped my foot in aggravation. “You aresucha pain in the ass!”
“Good to know, baby.” He turned on his heel and started down the hall, Churro at his feet. “Now get the lead out unless you want to go out in public in nothing more than my towel. Doesn’t bother me either way.”
I couldn’t stay with Holton. The likelihood I’d end up murdering him was too high. I prided myself on being yoga fit, but something told me knowing how to do sun salutation didn’t translate into having the upper body strength necessary to bury a body deep enough.
What I didn’t notice, however, and what had been his plan all along, was that during the past few minutes where he’d been pissing me off and contemplating murder, I’d forgotten all about how sad I’d been.
ChapterSeventeen
LYRIC
I finished scanningthe stack of books in front of me and passed them and the library card to the woman across the counter from me, trying my hardest to ignore the gaggle of women clustered together at the end of the long counter.
“Here you go,” I said with the brightest smile as I could muster. I tapped the book at the top of the pile. “I’ve read this one, it’s really good.”
The woman returned my grin. “Oh, good. I’ve been looking forward to reading it. Glad it lives up to the hype.”
“It absolutely does. And I heard the author decided to turn this into a series.”
The woman’s face lit up, and I felt a sense of pleasure that I’d made a person’s day with the gift of literature.
“Can’t wait. Thanks again.”
“Any time. And see you soon.”
I offered her one last cheerful wave as she exited the building before letting my expression fall flat and turning back to the women clustered at my workstation. “You know, I’m almost certain I gave each and every one of you something to do other than stand around here and annoy me.”
Rebecca snickered. Every female volunteer who belonged to the library had taken to gathering around my little area whenever it got close to quitting time, or more specifically, the time when Holton would arrive to pick me up.
I’ve stayed at his house—or more aptly put, been held hostage—for a week now, and to say my fuse had shortened was a considerable understatement. I was at the end of my rope. Not only had I walked around on eggshells, trying my best to spend as little time as possible with a man I was basically living with, but I hadn’t slept for shit either. The mattress in Holton’s spare room felt like it had been stuffed with rocks.
After the first night, I woke up feeling like my entire body was one massive black and purple bruise. Since then, I’ve waited until my new roommate retired to his room for the night, then sneaked out and slept on the couch for a few hours, setting an alarm so I’d wake up before him and hurry back to my room. I didn’t want him to catch me and make an even bigger fuss than he already had. He'd gone out of his way the past week to make me as comfortable as possible, but holding down my annoyance with the man was getting harder and harder to do.
Not only could the man cook, but he did itincrediblywell. I wake up to a hearty breakfast every morning, and have a delicious dinner every evening. I wasn’t sure if he changed his work schedule around so he could be at the house whenever I was, but it seemed like we were constantly circling each other. The only time I had any kind of reprieve was when I was at the library. Even then, I was thinking about how sweet he was every time he dropped me off or how he wished me a good day before reaching across the cab of his truck to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I counted down the minutes until he picked me up, knowing he’d not only ask about my day, but would also seem genuinely interested in every single minor detail.
Fortifying those walls around my heart was damn near impossible when there was no chance of escaping the man. He was just too freaking... good. Too nice. Too caring. It was driving mecrazy!
And don’t even get me started on how he was with that damn dog. I never thought a man as, well,manlyas Holton Clarke could be tied around a tiny puppy’s paw, but he was. I didn’t want to swoon every time I saw him stretched out on his couch, reading a book or watching television, with that beady-eyed dog snoozing on his chest, but it couldn’t be helped. No woman would be immune to that sight.
Rebecca propped her chin in her hand, smiling unrepentantly. “And miss the show? No thank you. That man is a grade A smoke show and watching him saunter in here in that uniform is the highlight of my day.”
Ms. Grady, a retired elementary school teacher, nodded eagerly in agreement. “So true. But I’m more interested in seeing the way he looks at our sweet Lyric here.”
I looked up from the stack of returns I was cataloging. “How does he look at me?” I asked before I could catch the question and reel it back in.
Tilda Crawford, a stay-at-home mom of two high schoolers snorted. “Oh, like you don’t know he watches you like you’re his next meal.”
My cheeks flushed such a deep red it felt like they’d caught fire from within.Don’t get sucked in, I silently warned myself.Don’t fall for it.
“You ladies are ridiculous,” I muttered, turning my head away and hiding behind the curtain of my hair, praying they didn’t see the way my face and neck were burning. That damn ember of hope was still there, letting off heat, just waiting for a small breeze to feed it and turn it into a forest fire. “Can we please get back to work? He’s not even due to show up for another”—I took a quick glance at the clock hanging from the bottom of the balcony that wrapped around all four walls and made up the second level—“Oh, for crying out loud, it’s an hour until closing.”
Tilda shrugged. “We didn’t want to risk missing him.”
The door opened just then setting the chime I’d attached above it to tinkling like songbirds. A collective gasp went up from the group that had me rolling my eyes. They leaned over, straining to see, but it wasn’t Holton who’d entered the library. It was worse. In fact, the two people smiling and waving in my direction sky-rocketed my anxiety.
“Mary. Alexis. This is a surprise.” My smile felt stiff and shaky as I rounded the counter to meet Holton’s mom and sister. I reached out for a handshake, only to find myself yanked into a three-way hug so hard I let out anoofon impact.
I did my best to school my features once I was released and able to pull back. “This is a nice surprise.” Remembering my manners, and feeling the eyes of my wacky crew of volunteers burrowing holes into my back, I went about making introductions. “Guys, this is Mary and Alexis Clarke. Mary, Alexis, this is Tilda Crawford, Estes Grady, and Rebecca Sharp. They’re volunteers and a huge help around her.”
