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“Open the door, dollface.”
“No, get lost.”
With that, I head back to the bathroom. I smirk at my reflection. Saying no feels like a small victory. I savor it, knowing damn well that, in ten minutes when I walk out that door, I’ll have not one buttwoindiscretions against me. I finish up my makeup, the little that I do every morning, and start toward the kitchen. I don’t make it that far. I stop and stare in disbelief at my front door. It’s not where I left it. The barrier is propped up against the interior wall, the hinges removed and the knob on the floor.
“What in the world—”
“I think one of us is going to need to make a copy of your keys. It’ll make getting in here easier the next time you’re being a brat.”
I turn to find Trip standing in the threshold of my kitchen eating my leftover tamales from the weekend, which just so happens to be my lunch for the day. He looks me straight in the eye, completely unperturbed, as he takes another bite of my food.
“This is delicious by the way. Did you make this or get it somewhere?”
Picking my jaw up from the floor, I gather my wits and glare. “I made them. Now put my door back on its hinges.”
After stuffing a bite into his mouth, chewing and swallowing, he answers, “No.”
“Trip, I don’t have time for this.” I wave my hand toward the door. “How did you even remove it while the door was locked?” I shake my head in frustration as I answer my own question. “Your toolbox, of course.”
He raises a brow. “My toolbox?”
“You’re a carpenter,” I mutter, searching and finding the item in question just behind him on the floor. “And given the time, you’re either on your way to a job site or heading to your dad’s office.”
Trip chuckles. “Been doing a little bit of stalking, have we?”
“Maybe,” I give him a one shoulder shrug and move past him into the kitchen. Quickly, I make myself a cup of coffee. I pour it into a travel mug and look over my shoulder. “Since you’re here, want one?”
“Nah, stuff makes me jumpy.” He closes the container in his hands and places it next to his toolbox. “We need to talk.”
I snort in derision as I add creamer to my coffee. “I don’t think we do.”
Trip’s fingers wrap around my bicep before he gives it a tug, forcing me to turn around. I hiss as coffee splashes over the rim. Thankfully, it doesn’t get on my clothes.
“Trip—”
“We’re talking,” he growls down into my face.
I don’t think we’ve ever been this close to one another. Yes, he’s fucked me from behind, and then there was that time he came all over my chest and face, but face-to-face? Never. Now, I can see the dusting of freckles over the bridge of his nose, the specks of orangey-gold in his deep brown eyes, and the small scar above his upper lip. It takes a great deal of effort not to allow a shiver of desire to rush through me. Grant is classically handsome, Jason is boy-ishly so. But Trip? Trip is a bad boy. His I-don’t-give-a-fuck-attitude is like my catnip. Iwantto like him. Physically, I’m already there. If he wasn’t part of this blackmailing scheme, I’d probably be halfway in love with him.
I try to tug my arm away, but Trip’s grip tightens.
“First, Jay told me it was your idea to look into that angel place,” he starts, watching me closely.
Jason mentioned how Trip may not appreciate me knowing about Carlos’ condition. Maybe the best thing for me is to feign indifference, that way, he’ll think I wasn’t trying to meddle.
“Yeah, so what?”
“‘So what’?” Trip repeats slowly, never taking his eyes off me. “This wasn’t you trying to get one over on me?”
I blink, completely taken back by the question. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, dollface. What do you want from me? To let you out of this little arrangement? If that’s the case, prepare yourself for disappointment because you aren’t fucking going anywhere.”
It takes a few seconds longer than it should for my brain to catch up to what he’s saying.
“Trip!” I yank my arm away and this time, he lets it go. “It never even crossed my mind to use this as leverage inany way! Jason mentioned you needed help, and I just happened to know of the organization that could possibly assist your family. It’s really that simple. There’s no hidden agenda!”
He lowers himself into my face and snarls, “I don’t fucking believe you! I’m not letting you hold anything over on me, dollface. Now what. Do. You.Want?”
