Page 70 of Shooter (Burnout 1)


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It had been hell watching Slick work herself into a near breakdown washing dishes, trying to put off going to bed for as long as she could reasonably get away with it. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but he couldn’t fault her for being stressed out in a new and wholly unfamiliar situation. In the end he decided the best course of action was to nip her fears in the bud by announcing he was beat to shit and would be sawing logs by the time she was ready for bed. Now it was time to play along with his little charade.

He felt the sheets slide back a little and felt Hayley slip into bed next to him. He also felt the whisper of the bedspread being only slightly dented as Pepper made her way onto the foot of the bed and curled into a ball at his feet. He rolled his eyes as the rumbling of the kitten’s purr on his soles. It took quite a bit of time for Hayley to find a position that was comfortable. He couldn’t say for sure what position that was, since he was facing away from her, but eventually she seemed to settle in. True to his word, he closed his eyes again and let himself drift off to sleep. He was happy with himself for defusing a potentially awkward situation. He was even happier when he woke up.

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Hayley couldn’t really sleep. That much was obvious. Chris liked to have the air conditioner on throughout the night and it was slightly chilly in the room. It wasn’t the only reason she couldn’t sleep, obviously, but it was the most convenient to blame. She ran through her options. She could go to the other room after getting a blanket from the linen closet. But she didn’t want to fail at this relationship-thing on the very first night. She turned slightly and gazed at Chris’ sleeping form. He was wearing a t-shirt, probably shorts, from what she could tell. His breathing was soft and even and so he must be asleep by now.

She remembered those few moments before coming fully awake when they’d both been on the couch. His arms had been around her, his body was warm and yes, hard, but surprisingly comfortable, too. His scent had been pleasant. He was facing away from her and so any attempts to recreate that were likely to wake him up, which she didn’t want to do. She gingerly lifted herself up and moved closer to him on the bed. She put her head on Chris’ pillow and cuddled up to his back, instead. It was a lot warmer, she noticed, and it gave her almost the same sense of security she’d had when she’d awoken on the couch. She finally fell asleep a few minutes later.

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Chris came to in the dark of his bedroom, at first a little confused. He was apparently pinned to the edge of the bed. It took several seconds for his sleep-muddled brain to process the situation. His feet were pinned because the cat was using him as a cushion. It took him a little longer to realize he couldn’t turn over because Hayley was pressed up against his back. He smiled to himself. He carefully reached back and found her hand, which had been resting on his back. He took hold of it and pulled it around, draping her arm over his side in a decidedly more formal embrace. Then he laid his head back down on the pillow and fell back asleep while marveling at having two females in his bed where none had really been before.

Chapter 22

Moving Slick in was quite a bit easier than moving Easy in, mostly because Easy didn’t want to be easy. He grumbled and bitched about leaving the rehab facility, even though he didn’t living there. He bitched about everything, really. By the time they arrived out front, Chris couldn’t decide whether he wanted to hand Easy the keys to the little blue house or just punch him in the face. Hayley had somehow managed to remain pretty chipper throughout the whole ordeal. She seemed to have an amazing capacity for putting up with the younger, brooding man.

When Monday rolled around, Chris hadn’t been able to get Easy to come in to work. Jimmy had complained that his leg still hurt from moving his belongings the day before. Chris decided to let it go. On Tuesday, he only managed to get Jimmy into the garage for half a day. Wednesday had held the same luck. Thursday, though, Jimmy had become interested in Chris’ custom build of a Chevy hot rod and had spent more time looking at the engine than the clock on the wall. But he’d insisted on knocking off early, as usual, and refused to go to Maria’s for lunch with the rest of the guys. Instead he limped to Chris’ truck, with Chris thinking he was either in a lot of pain from the shitty prosthetic he was still wearing or he was exaggerating in order to be alone. Chris didn’t like either of those options very much.

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