Texting a guy was not a big deal.
Texting a guy who’d seen my boobs and had gotten me off shouldn’t be hard.
Texting a guy I really, really liked was scary as hell.
I texted him a quick hey before I wussed out and then dropped the phone on the table like it was a snake and then felt like an ass because he was probably still asleep.
Hurrying away from the phone, I’d just grabbed my stool when I heard the phone ding. My stomach dropped.
“Oh God,” I whispered, turning around. The screen was lit up from a message. “I’m being such an idiot.”
I made my way back to the phone. As expected, the text was from Reece. Seven words—only seven words—and my lips split into a giant, goofy smile.
Hey babe, was just thinking of u.
Clutching the phone, I took several deep breaths. I was thinking of u too. My cheeks heated, because my response sounded so corny when his was all swoony.
The reply was almost immediate. Of course u were.
I laughed at his cockiness and felt my stomach dip again, because I knew what I had to do. I needed to talk to him before any of this went further.
Before I could respond, another text came through. & I really was just thinking abt u. Guess what I was doing while I was thinking abt u?
My eyes widened as I typed back Oh my.
There was a pause. Is that too real to admit that?
No. And I shook my head and sent back No.
Good, came the quick reply. Followed by Glad to know u don’t think I’m a pervert.
Nah, I still think ur a pervert.
A hot one at least?
I laughed out loud at that. Definitely a hot one. I waited a whole second and then sent, I think my house is haunted.
What?
The tips of my ears burned, and I wished I could somehow unsend that text. Never mind. I’m being stupid. Are u free tonight?
There was a pause before his response, which caused my stomach to twist. Got to work 2night, but I’m all yours 2morrow if u’ll have me.
Is that a joke? I typed back. Doing that stupid smile thing, I allowed myself a hobble and a shimmy before I added Tomorrow wld be perfect.
We exchanged a couple of more texts, deciding on meeting at my place around seven in the evening. He was going to bring food, and maybe I should go get some wine since I was probably going to need some liquid courage and something, in case it went bad, to drown my tears in.
Chapter 12
“You know, I’d expect one of your brothers to do something like that, because damn, sometimes those boys have shit for brains.”
Sitting on the edge of my recliner, I winced as my father passed in front of my couch. This was not how I expected my Monday morning to go, but I wasn’t surprised. Somehow, my parents hadn’t heard about me, the book of doom, and Henry’s windshield. Today was obviously reckoning day, and I’d called and told my mom what I’d done.
Thirty minutes later, my father showed up.
Gavin Ark wasn’t a tall man, but he was stout and he had the build of a defensive linebacker. Only a little bit of gray spotted the hair above his temples, and it made me wonder if he was experimenting with Just For Men hair color.
“Especially that younger brother of yours.” His rant was really gearing up. “Sometimes I think Thomas doesn’t have two functioning brain cells he can rub together. Do you know what he did yesterday?” He stopped at the corner of the couch, planting his hands on his hips. “He went down to get some pop out of the fridge in the basement and left the damn door wide open, like he was trying to cool the entire house.”
My brows rose.
“And then I hear you threw a book through a windshield?” Lifting a hand, he scrubbed his fingers through his dark brown hair. “I didn’t even know you can throw a book through a windshield.”
“Apparently you have to hit the right spot?” I murmured.
His eyes narrowed, and I zipped it shut. “We raised you to be smarter than that. And your mother told me that you said Henry didn’t provoke you.”
“That’s true,” I admitted sheepishly.
He sighed as he stalked over to where I sat. “Honey, I know you are not a fan of Henry. No one in this damn town is, but you cannot go around vandalizing his property, and I know you know that.”
I nodded.
Dropping a heavy hand on my shoulder, he squeezed gently. “Do you need the money to take care of the window?”
My mouth opened, but emotion closed off my throat. Tears burned the back of my eyes. My parents were ticked off to discover I’d done something so stupid, but more than anything else, they were disappointed. Dad was right. They had raised me better than what I’d done, and yet, my dad was still willing to jump in and bail me out.
Like they had when I’d been living on my own for a month and my car had broken down. Like they had when I filled out my financial aid too late my sophomore year and covered my first semester of online classes until the aid kicked in. Like they had virtually all my life.
Man-oh-man, I loved my parents. I knew how lucky I was. Not everyone could have such an awesome parental unit, but I did. I really did.
Swallowing the ball in my throat, I smiled up at him. “Thank you, but I have the money.”
He pinned me with a knowing look. “How much will it deplete your savings?”
“Not much,” I lied. Truthfully, it would be a hit, but . . . but I wasn’t their little girl they needed to swoop in and save anymore. Besides, they worked hard for their money and I’d like to see my dad retire at some point in this century. I fixed my glasses since they’d started to slide down my nose. “I’m going to be okay.”
Dad stared at me a moment longer and then he stepped back, folding his arms. Something about the sudden hard set of his jaw had me worried. “So, what’s this I hear about you and Reece?”
“What?” I shrieked, hopping up from the recliner.
He narrowed his eyes. “I heard that you two have been spending some time together.”
I gaped at him. Reece and I had only hung out one night, and I so was not going to even think about that night in the presence of my father. Ew. “Who told you that Reece and I have been hanging out?”
“I ran into Melvin at the hardware store yesterday morning. He told me that Reece was seen waiting for you to get off work a few nights back.”
Crossing my arms, I rolled my eyes. “Melvin is delusional.”
“So it’s not true?”
Was that disappointment I was hearing in my dad’s voice? Of course it was. I’m pretty sure Dad wanted to adopt both Reece and Colton.
“Now, I don’t want any details and maybe he was just being a good guy and making sure you were getting home safe since what happened to those girls in the town over . . .” He trailed off, waiting.
“Maybe Melvin needs to stop gossiping.” I tucked a loose strand back as I glanced out the front window. It had finally stopped raining this morning, but it was a dreary day. “Reece and I . . .” How did I explain what Reece and I were when I had no idea? “We’re hanging out,” I finished lamely.
His brows furrowed together.
“We’re friends,” I rushed on, feeling my cheeks heat. “We’re supposed to have dinner tonight.”
A slow smile crept over his face. “Is that so?”
“Yeah.” I shifted from foot to foot.
He nodded slowly. “You know, he’s a good boy. I’ve always thought that you and him would be good together.”
“Don’t tell Mom.”
The smile spread and his dark eyes danced.
“Dad! Don’t you dare say anything to Mom. She’ll read into it, start planning our wedding, and she’ll call Reece’s Mom!”
“They’d both probably start knitting booties for a nonexistent grandchild,” he agreed with a chuckle.
“Oh God,” I groaned, wrinkling my nose. “Not funny.”
“I won’t say anything,” he replied, but I so knew he was lying. As soon as he left, he’d be on the phone to Mom. “I’ve got to get back to the office. Come give me a hug.”
After squeezing the living daylights out of me, he headed outside, stopping on the porch. “Lock the door, Roxy.”
Nodding, I did just that when I closed the door. Even though those two girls and the one who was missing—Shelly Winters—didn’t live here, I wasn’t stupid. And as I headed back to my studio, I mulled over Reece’s suggestion of getting a gun.
“No,” I said out loud with a laugh. “I’d seriously end up shooting someone accidentally.”
Plus, the incident with the book showed I didn’t have the best self-control when my emotions were running high. Granted, throwing a book and pulling a trigger were two very different things, but it still wigged me out, the idea of having that kind of end-game level of power in my hands.
As I poked around the paintbrushes, my thoughts drifted to tonight. Excitement hummed through me, but the happy buzz was coated with unease. I was going to have to tell the truth about what happened between us, and knowing how much Reece hated lying, it was a huge risk.
I could lose him before . . . before I even really had him.
But there wasn’t a part of me that seriously considered continuing with the lie even though I doubted Reece would ever know the difference. To do so was wrong and cowardly, and I had decent-size lady balls.
I just needed to find them.
I spent the rest of the afternoon working on a painting of Jackson Square in New Orleans. I’d never been, but I was obsessed with the place ever since I read an epic paranormal romance that mostly took place there.
I’d made Charlie read the books, too, and when we were younger, NOLA was on our bucket list. One of these days, I promised myself I’d go there, not just for me but also for Charlie.