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“If you call the police, I’ll say you’re lying,” I counter, glaring up at him.
“And I’ll tell them to take a look at the surveillance footage,” he shoots back, returning my glare.
Cursing silently, I add, “Fine.But I won’t press charges.I’m the victim here.Without my cooperation, you’ll be wasting the officer’s time.Especially since I don’t plan on sticking around to answer questions.They’ll have to track me down at my house in the dark in the rain, when they’re already overwhelmed trying to deal with the flooding in Bad Dog.People might be hurt or worse and it will be your fault for diverting resources.”I shoot a pointed glance at his hand.“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go see if the car I called is waiting for me.”
He curses, but after a beat lets me go.
I smile.“Thanks.See ya.”
“You absolutely will.”He grabs the handle of a giant rolling sports bag sitting on the concrete and starts down the sidewalk beside me.
“What are you doing?”
“Coming with you.Sleeping on your couch.Making sure you’re safe.”
I laugh.“No, you’re not.”
“Except that I am.”
I stop and he stops, watching me with irritatingly calm hazel eyes.Even after his tussle with Brace Face and a plane flight, his dark brown hair lies in smooth waves around his handsome face, his superhero jawline is strong but relaxed, and his moody, greenish-brown eyes project an air of authority over all he surveys.
But he has no authority over me and there’s no way in hell I’m letting Aaron Boudreaux bully his way into my Uber.
My lips part to tell him as much when he cuts me off.
“Or I’m calling your dad,” he says.“I bet he’d be interested in hearing how his son is putting innocent women in danger, especially his daughter.”
My hands curl into fists and my teeth grind together, but I don’t say a word.
I can’t.Because he’s right.
If he calls my dad, this shit day is going to get even worse.Matty is already the black sheep of the family.Something like this could lead to a serious fracture between the people I love, and I can’t handle that right now.My marriage is over, my son sleeps in someone else’s house way too often for my mental health, and I cry myself to sleep on the regular.Add Matty being ostracized from the McGuire clan into the mix, and I don’t know how much longer I could hold the hot mess my life has become together.
So, I swallow my pride and grit out through clenched teeth, “Fine.But I’m not feeding you or talking to you or cleaning up the toys spread out on the floor, so you don’t step on them in the night.I’m going home and going straight to bed.That’s it.”
“Great,” he says with a sniff.He nods toward the rideshare pickup area.“That guy’s calling your name.Must be the car you ordered.I’ll give him something for his trouble and we can go pick up my rental in the parking garage.”
“I’ll pay for it, stay here.”I don’t want to go to the parking garage with Aaron—I don’t want to go anywhere with him—but I also don’t want to ruin my car service review rating.I hurry over to the round man with the red beard calling my name beside the open trunk of his Toyota Prius and hand him twenty dollars, explaining that a friend has unexpectedly offered me a ride.
But Aaron isn’t a friend, and I’m not about to forget that.
Not for a moment.
Twenty minutes later, Aaron’s bag is in the back seat of the giant truck he rented for some inexplicable reason—maybe he plans on joining a monster truck rally while he’s home—and I’m pressed against the passenger’s door, as far from his wretched self as I can get.
As he pulls out into the pouring rain, I consider texting Matty to let him know what’s happened, but when I pull my cell from my purse, I see a text from Ben.It’s a shot of him, Radcliffe, and Chase, all three grinning with whipped cream mustaches.Below it, Ben tells me that Chase had a great day, loves pumpkin pie, and wishes me a Happy Thanksgiving.
Stomach balling into a miserable knot, I tuck the phone away without texting anyone.I don’t have the bandwidth for communicating with anyone else today.I just need my bed and a good night’s sleep.
Good luck with that.Doubt you’ll rest easy with Mr.Sexy camped out on your couch.
Frowning, I remind my inner voice that Aaron is Mr.Obnoxious, not Mr.Sexy, and settle in for a long, silent ride home.
ChapterTwo
Aaron Landon Boudreaux
A man who wishes he could go
