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“Thank you,” I say again.
He laughs. He sounds borderline maniacal. It’s like he needs me to reciprocate this somehow. I won’t say things I don’t mean just to protect his ego. I don’t think that’s fair.
“How long until your dad’s here?” I ask.
He scowls again. “A couple of minutes, probably. He was at the park. It’s not far from here. I don’t even know why he was there.”
“At a park?” I can think of ten reasons why going to a park is enjoyable, but maybe that’s just the artist in me.
“It’s a dog park,” James says, “but his dog was stolen recently.”
“Oh my God. That’s awful.”
“Is it?” James grunts. “It’s just a dog. I know it’s sad, but the way Dad’s acting, he’s lost his son. Lostme.”
“How long has he had the dog?” I ask.
“I don’t want to talk about this,” he says, stunning me.
Is it really that simple? All you have to do is confidently proclaim you don’t want to speak about something, and then you don’t have to?
“I really should get…”
Before I finish my sentence, he steps forward right into my personal space. He reaches down as though to touch my hips. Is he seriously going to try to kiss me? We have zero chemistry, negative chemistry, actually. I take another step away from him. Soon, I’ll be backed against the car.
CHAPTERFOUR
Fletcher
As I drive into the parking lot, my world changes. I’m not sure what to make of it. It’s like I’m on an operation again, with one task in mind, and I’ll doggedly chase that task until it’s completed. Now, the task is to claim her. Own her. She’s mine.
She’s backing against a car, but I don’t see the car or the man approaching her. I only see her. She’s got shoulder-length brown hair. She’s wearing a modest dress that nevertheless outlines her curvy shape. Her cheeks seem flushed, but it’s difficult to tell from here. I try to apply reason. If I’m not close enough to see if her cheeks are red, how can I be so sure she belongs to me? How can I know she’s mine and always will be?
Hell, I feel alive. Hot blood is pumping through my veins. I don’t even think as I bring the car to a stop and quickly jump from it. Somebody’s backing my woman up against the car. Even from here—did I just call hermy woman?—I can tell she doesn’t want it from her body language. When she raises her hand to block him, that snaps something in me. Nobody touches her except me, especially if she’s trying to make them stop. There’s no damn way I’ll stand for that.
I run across the lot, knowing on some level I should slow down. I’m flooded with war, possession, and even jealousy. It’s all new to me, except for the pumping of violent intent. Running across the lot, I grab the man and spin him around, ready to break his nose or snap his arm. I’m about to pull my fist back when I see my eyes looking back at me. Everybody says James has the same type of blue.
“D-Dad?” he says.
I lower my hand, glancing over his shoulder at the woman.Mywoman. His date. Oh, fuck.
“What are you doing?” James goes on.
“What wereyoudoing?” I growl. “Because it looked like you were about to push this woman against a car and try to kiss her, even when she was trying to make you stop. Is that how you were raised?”
It’s not a rhetorical question. The truth is, I wasn’t there for much of the raising.
“I…” He shakes his head slowly. “No, we-we’re on a date.”
“Wait in the car,” I snap.
Part of me wishes he’d fight back more, even with words. Maybe he thinks I don’t know how tough he tries to behave around other people. I’ve seen the swagger and how he changes when it’s just him and me. He nods, bows his head, and skulks away.
“Are you okay?” I ask the woman.
Up close, I can see the strands of hair across her face and her wide, green eyes. I was right. Her cheeks are slightly red.
“He didn’t do anything,” she murmurs. “Just before you came, I told him to stop, and he was about to. He was stepping away from me. He was, uh, presumptuous but not predatory.”
