Chapter 41
Five minutes later I fell, laughing, into the passenger's seat of his car. I never did get my drink, which was probably a good thing. My head was spinning so fast, my body could barely keep up.
I should've been horrified. Hell, I was horrified. But I was something else too. And it had me rubbing my thighs together as I settled into the passenger's seat.
Lawton closed my car door and strode around the front of the car. I watched him through the window. With a soft sigh, I watched him move.
That long, easy stride, those wary eyes, the way his muscles shifted in time with his movements. It was a visual symphony that had me wanting more than just a look.
He was every girl's fantasy.
He was my fantasy. And he was mine in real life too. For how long, I had no idea. I knew it wouldn't be forever. In real life, things like that didn't happen. He'd go on to marry a movie star or a socialite, or no one at all. And I'd – I bit my lip – I didn't know what I'd do.
But I knew what I wanted to do now.
I turned sideways in the seat to face him. I watched as he settled into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut behind him.
"That was interesting," I said.
He gave me a look. "That's one way to put it."
I felt my eyebrows furrow. "Are you mad at me or something?"
He turned straight ahead, studying the dimly lit parking lot. "No."
"Are you sure?"
Cast in shadows, I watched him in profile. He didn't answer, and he didn't move so much as a muscle.
"You are," I said.
Slowly, he shook his head.
I reached out, placing a hand on his thigh. "Then what is it?"
He turned to face me, and his hand closed over mine. "You could've been hurt," he said.
"But I wasn't."
"But you could've been."
"So that's why you're mad at me?"
His hand tightened. "No. Baby. Not you. Me."
"Why you?" I kept my tone light. "You rescued me. You're the hero of this story, not the villain."
"You sure about that?"
"Definitely."
"Oh yeah?" he said. "Well, let me ask you something? You ever have that happen before?"
"What?" I said.
"You ever have some stranger come up and give you crap for no good reason?"
"Well, I am a waitress," I said. "So, yeah. It happens to me all the time, actually."
"You know what I mean." He leaned toward me, over the center console. "I shouldn’t have left you alone."
"Why not? I don't need a bodyguard."
"That place," he said. "I mean it's nice enough." He shook his head. "But the crowd. Shit." He reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. Something in his voice changed. "I wanted to kill him."
"Which one?"
"Both."
"Well, you did a pretty good job of half-killing them, so that's gotta count for something, right?"
He gave me a look. "I can laugh at a lot of things, Chloe. But seeing you hurt isn't one of them."
"Except I wasn't hurt." I grinned over at him. "I wasn't even touched. So there."
He closed his eyes as if shutting out an image too painful to watch. "But you could've been."
"Hey," I said. "I want to ask you something, and I hope you'll be honest with me."
His eyes opened, and he met my gaze with an intensity that was almost too painful to bear. Slowly, he nodded.
I leaned very close. "By any chance," I whispered, "are you Lawton Rastor?"
His face froze. The moment seemed to go on forever, and then, his lips twitched. He gave me that crooked smile of his, the one that made my breath hitch and my heart melt. "Me?" he said. "Nah. I'm the guy with Chloe Malinski."
"Oh her?" I said in a disappointed tone. "But she's just a nobody."
"Baby," he said, "she's somebody, alright." Slowly, he moved his lips closer to mine. "Matter of fact, she's everything to this guy I know."
"Oh yeah?"
"Oh yeah."