Chapter 38
I spent most of that afternoon trying to reach Mrs. Parker. Even with them out of the country, this had never been a problem before.
At least once a week, she'd been checking in from Costa Rica, just to see how things were going. And every once in a while, I called her too, always on her cell phone, and usually with mundane, but time-sensitive questions about home maintenance.
Now, every single call was going straight to her voicemail. I told myself this was a good sign. It was better than hearing a disconnection notice, right?
Out of desperation, I pulled out our original paperwork and scoured the documents for emergency contacts. I ran my finger down the long list and came up with nothing useful. If I needed to reach Chucky's vet, I was home-free. But if I wanted to reach Chucky's owners, I was totally screwed.
If I didn't hear back from them soon, I'd have to come up with some sort of plan.
Until then, I vowed to push it out of my mind. I had a guy who loved me flying halfway across the country just to take me out on a date. If that wasn't a better thing to think about, I didn't know what was.
Lawton picked me up right on time, driving some exotic sports car that I didn't recognize.
First, we hit an authentic Greek restaurant owned by a friend of his. What they brought us, I had no idea, at least not by their official names. But there was something delicious made with spicy chicken and homemade bread, and an amazing dessert with nuts and honey.
We talked about plays and politics, and local landmarks that we both had visited, even if not with each other. He talked about his sister, his Grandma, and a little about Bishop, who I was relieved to hear was out of town.
As for me, I told him a little more about Grandma and a lot more about Josh, trying not to brag, as much as I wanted to.
I didn't talk about the Parkers. And this time, it wasn't because I was ashamed, and it wasn't because of that agreement. Mostly, it was because when it came to house-sitting, things weren't exactly going so well.
Tonight, I only wanted to only think about good things. And that didn't include bounced checks or missing home-owners.
By the time we hit dessert, I'd pushed the Parkers completely out of my mind. They were gone, and Lawton was here. Being with him, even after all that had happened, was like a dream.
Sometimes people recognized him. Sometimes they didn't. But no matter who was around us, he only had eyes for me. We left the restaurant a little after nine and hit a comedy show at one of the downtown casinos.
In the car afterward, Lawton was navigating the city streets when he turned to me and said, "Want to hit a club or something?"
I looked down at my jeans and simple blouse. "I'm not really dressed for it."
He laughed and glanced down at his own clothing. "Like I am."
I gave him a good, long look. His left hand rested loosely on the steering wheel while his right elbow rested on the center console. Even in relaxation, the tattoo-covered muscles shifted with the smallest movement of the vehicle, showing off the lines and ridges of his amazing physique.
His clothes were simple, just dark jeans and a black T-shirt, but his appearance was anything but.
His clothes didn't have to be satin, silk, or some designer brand. His mere presence spoke for itself, making Lawton look like a million bucks in what could've been a ten-dollar shirt for all I knew.
I recalled what was under that shirt. I'd pressed my face against his naked chest how many times now? However many times it had been, it didn't feel like enough.
As if feeling the heat of my gaze, he turned his head in my direction. His gaze was electric, and he gave me a grin so heart-stopping that I felt my lips part as if waiting for a kiss.
"Baby," he said. "It doesn't matter what you wear. You'll be the most beautiful girl in that place." He turned his attention back to the road. "And you know what? If anyone gives you shit about what you're wearing, they'll have me to answer to."
I couldn’t help but laugh. "What are you gonna do?" I said. "Beat 'em up if they tell me no jeans allowed?"
In profile, I saw him smile. "Depends."
"On what?"
"How nicely they tell you."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well the fashion police can be really brutal."
I was only half kidding. It was part of the reason I shopped at consignment stores. The clothes might've been secondhand, but they were almost always the right cut and label.
"There's this new place off Six Mile," he said. "A friend of mine's a bouncer there." He gave me a sideways glance. "And I'll tell you what, if he doesn't agree that what you're wearing is the sweetest stuff he's ever seen, I'll personally kick his ass."
I pretended to give it some thought. "I dunno," I said through laughter I couldn't quite contain. "He's not a big guy, is he? Because I sure don't want you getting hurt on my account."
As we pulled up to a red light, Lawton put a hand to his heart. "Now I'm hurt." He made a strangled, choking sound as the car came to a stop. "Might. Be. Fatal." He groaned. "Need. Mouth. To. Mouth." He flopped his head back onto the headrest and closed his eyes.
I glanced at the light. It was still red, but for how long. "Very funny," I said.
He didn't move.
"C'mon," I said with another nervous glance ahead, "the light's gonna turn."
He gave a low groan. "Almost. Gone."
"You are such a –" I laughed as I tore off my seatbelt and moved toward him. "Damn it, I don't know what you are." When our lips met, he came magically to life, moving his lips against mine in a way that sent a bolt of heat straight to my core.
I felt his hand in my hair and his tongue against mine. The next strangled moan was my own, as I felt my insides combust and my knees tremble.
A car horn sounded behind us, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I pulled away and looked toward the light, now green. There were several cars behind us. The horn sounded again, followed by another, probably from the vehicle behind them.
I jumped back into my seat. "Go!" I said.
"Not 'til you buckle up."
I fumbled for my seatbelt, listening to the cacophony of horns behind us. When the seatbelt snapped shut, Lawton floored it, leaving the other vehicles in the dust. I glanced behind us. The light was red again, and the horns were still blaring.
The driver of the car behind us was giving us the middle-finger salute. Lawton rolled down the window and gave the driver a casual wave.
"Oh my God," I said through choked laughter. "You're trying to get us killed."
He turned to give me a grin. "Never," he said. "The club's up here on the left. What do you think?"
I thought of how it would feel to have Lawton pressed up against me, our bodies grinding to the beat of whatever – slow song, fast song, hell, a damn polka. I wanted to feel him against me. And I didn't want to wait until we got back.
"Count me in," I said.