Nobody's Prince Charming (Road to Blissville, #3)

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  “Dare,” I said softly so only he could hear me. “If I kiss you, I won’t stop. This isn’t the time or place for the things I want to do to you.”

  “When will you be moving your bed into your apartment?” he asked boldly. He wasn’t eager to roll around on that sketchy-looking carpet either. “How soon can we use the items you purchased?”

  “I’m not moving my bed until this weekend,” he said. “We’ll improvise until then.”

  “There are plenty of surfaces in the garage or up in the apartment that we—”

  I cut him off by placing my index finger over his lips. “I want you to be really comfortable for the things I’m going to do to you, Dare.”

  “Okay,” he said shakily.

  “I’ll still take care of you tonight though.”

  “Okay.” His trancelike responses made me smile, and I couldn’t help kissing his forehead. That seemed to snap him back to reality.

  “Back to work for both of us.”

  “Okay, Wren.” I liked his submission more than I ever thought I could. I’d never experimented with power play, but he made me want to try it. Jesus! Cock rings, cages, and submission were never things I ever gave thought to before I met the little imp. Just what was he into?

  Luckily, the rest of the day passed without incident or more flirting. As soon as Dare was back inside my truck, he reached for the soap I bought him like it was a treasure. He closed his eyes and inhaled the scent through the plastic.

  “I’m going to make this last a very long time.”

  “Dare, I bought it from Marabel here in town. She has plenty of soap for sale. You don’t have to use it sparingly.” I nearly choked on my saliva when I thought about him lathering his hot, lean body with the soap. Would he linger on his cock and balls and pretend it was my hand instead of his own? I sure as hell would linger if I was the one washing his body with soapy hands.

  “Yes, but this one is special because it’s a gift from you.” He sounded serious, but really? Had he received so few gifts that a bar of soap really wowed him? “At least I don’t have to break into your apartment and steal a shirt to sleep in or something equally creepy.”

  Creepy? Nah, it was cute as fuck. Jesus, what was happening to me?

  “Dare, I’ll buy you a new one if you run out. There’s no need to cut the bar into little slivers and dole them out slowly.” He gasped like I talked about slicing off a finger instead of cutting into the soap. “Seriously, lather up and go to it.” Dare blinked a few times then his lips curved into a wicked smile.

  “You better get us out of here unless you want an audience, Wren. I’m a heartbeat away from climbing over that console and straddling your lap. I’d lure you into the back seat but it’s full.”

  That was all I needed to get moving. The faster I unloaded the boxes, the faster we could do a different type of unloading. I wanted my mouth on his and wouldn’t settle for anything else. My dick started to twitch to life when I pictured Dare on his knees.

  “Stop it.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I can tell you’re thinking sexy thoughts. Knock it off.”

  “How?”

  “You’re doing this little growly hum and your body is so tight it looks like it could shatter.”

  “Growly hum?” I asked.

  “Yeah, like this.” Dare gave me a growly little hum that made me want to pull my truck over. “Look at your knuckles.” They were white from the death grip I had on the steering wheel. “What has you so revved up, Wren?”

  “I was wondering if I should order Chinese or pizza for dinner,” I said.

  “No way, you’re going to eat dinner with Grandpa and me.”

  My heart sped up even more and I thought I could be close to a panic attack. Meet his grandpa? That was a big fucking deal. He wasn’t…we weren’t…

  “Wren, it’s just food. I’m not introducing you as anything other than the new tenant. I want my grandpa to be comfortable around you is all.”

  “What if he doesn’t like me?” What would I do? I didn’t want Dare to choose between his grandpa and his…tenant. It sounded as ridiculous as I felt.

  “Wren, he’ll like you because I do.” Dare reached over and touched my thigh to comfort me. “Maren made a lasagna today. Her grandmother came to the States from Italy, and I promise you that no one makes a better lasagna than Maren. I’m talking noodles made from scratch and robust meat sauce that simmered for hours.”

  “Okay.”

  “She makes this herb oil to dip the fresh Italian bread in. It’s Grandpa’s and my favorite, although I’ll need to give him another pill to help prevent acid reflux.”

  “I think I just came in my pants.”

  “No, that was Trent earlier,” Dare said dryly. “That was just mean, Wren.”

  I parked behind his car and turned the engine off. “You’re right, and I apologize for that.”

  “Look, I want to get something straight before this goes any further.” Dare blew out a long breath like he was buying time or trying to find the right words.

  His hesitation made me nervous and I wasn’t a person who gave in to nerves very often. “Hey, you can tell me anything.”

  “I just want you to know that I am not mistaking your gift today as a token for anything other than friendship. I promise that I won’t get all clingy after we…you know,” he gestured down to my dick, “do it.”

  “Use your adult words, Dare.” Where had the bold, confident man from last night gone?

  “Have mind-blowing, back-clawing sex that results in orgasms that could be confused as life-altering experiences. I promise that I won’t confuse that with a commitment or something.”

  “Dare…” I wasn’t sure what to say. Did I believe that neither of us would come out of this unscathed? No, but I wasn’t willing to walk away either. “It’s going to be okay.”

  It had to be because I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting him. What if you’re the one who gets hurt, tough guy? Could Dare be the knight to scale the high walls guarding my heart?

  “Grandpa would’ve seen us pull in. I don’t want him coming out here in the cold to check on us.”

  “Will he bring a shotgun?”

  “Maybe back in the day, but not anymore.”

  “Good to know.”

  “He’d probably bring the ball bat from the hall closet.” The porchlight on the side of the house came on. “Yep. That’s our one-minute warning.”

  “I think I’m going to like your grandpa.”

  “You’re going to love him.”

  Ralph McCoy was as adorable as his grandson, full of life and laughter. It was no wonder Dare fought so fucking hard to keep him home and happy. The lasagna was even better than Dare promised, and I ate two huge portions.

  “I guess a guy as big as you can eat all that pasta and not gain weight,” Ralph told me. “Must be nice.”

  “I work out a lot too,” I told him. “That way I don’t feel guilty when I get carried away on occasion.”

  “Smart man,” Ralph told me.

  “Dare told me that you used to own an auto body shop. What kind of work did you do?”

  “I ran a full-service shop, so I did maintenance and mechanical work along with collision repairs. I loved every minute I spent in that shop and it never felt like work to me.”

  “You have some awesome tools in your garage,” I said.

  “You know a lot about cars?” Ralph asked me.

  “I went to tech school for two years after graduating from high school, but I was more interested in classic cars instead of working on modern cars. There’s really not much call for that in these parts. I used to cut my buddies’ hair all the time and they told me I should become a barber. I didn’t want to limit myself to just styles for men, so I really applied myself while at cosmetology school. I discovered that I really like it.” I glanced over at Dare and he just blinked like he couldn’t believe I had revealed so much about myself.

  “What
’s your favorite classic car?” Ralph wanted to know.

  “I have a sixty-nine Chevelle,” I told him. “It’s my dream car. She’s a little rough around the edges but runs beautifully. Now I need to start working on her exterior.”

  Ralph let out a peppy whistle that made Dare smile. “That’s my favorite year for American cars. All the big boys put out monster vehicles that year.” Ralph set his napkin on the table and rose to his feet. “I have a photo album with some fine vehicles I’ve worked on or owned over the years. Let me go get it.”

  Once Ralph shuffled out of the room, Dare leaned forward and said, “Sixty-nine is my favorite blow job position. You want me to sneak you up to my room after my grandpa falls asleep?”

  I closed my eyes briefly and groaned. I wanted to feel his mouth on my cock while he fucked my throat but knowing his grandpa could hear us was a real turn-off. I opened my mouth to remind him that we were just a few days away from privacy and a comfortable bed, but my vibrating phone distracted me. I regretted pulling it out of my pocket and looking at it. For one brief, shining moment, I actually thought I might have a chance at happiness. The caller represented the saddest time in my life and jerked me out of the fantasyland I’d been living in all day long.

  “Dare, I’m so sorry to eat and run, but I need to go. This is important.” I pointed to the phone. Even though I wouldn’t answer the call or return the message, it totally ruined my mood and the evening for me. I needed to get as far away from Dare as fast as I could, because my mood was about to dive down into a raging darkness that I didn’t want him to see. “Please give Ralph my apologies and tell him that I’ll be back soon to look at his photos.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Dare, I can’t…”

  I got up, grabbed my coat, and left without another word. I didn’t even remember to unload my truck. I was starting to think that moving into the apartment was the biggest mistake I could make, because the universe saw that I was starting to feel happy and that just wasn’t allowed. If I cared about Dare, I’d leave town and never look back before he got hurt too.

  “Oh! Oh! Oh my!”

  I glanced away from putting Grandpa’s sandwich together and saw my mom looking out the kitchen window at the flurry of activity going on in front of the garage. Her hand was on her neck and her mouth gaped open in shock. Mom’s face was flushed pink, and I suspected it wasn’t because Grandpa had the heat cranked up. It was move-in day and Wren had brought some buddies to help him move.

  Apparently, my mom was impressed enough to have a spontaneous lady-gasm right on the spot. A lady-gasm is a phrase I associate with my mom and her lady friends when they see a guy who catches their attention. It’s muted and more socially acceptable than an orgasm in public and tends to stimulate the brain more than any other part of the body. Then again, the brain is a sexual organ and where all the magic begins.

  “Really, Mom,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Seriously, Mom,” Kristy, my sixteen-year-old sister said dryly. “Grease is calling and they want their T-Birds back.” You could hear the dramatic teen eye roll in her voice.

  “Hey!” Mom and I said at the same time. I thought we might be offended for different reasons since Grease was my mom’s favorite movie and musical.

  “Wren’s a good guy, Kris. Don’t let the battered leather jacket fool you.”

  “Mmmhmmm,” Mom contributed. Or perhaps Mom and I were on the same page after all.

  “I’m telling Dad,” Kristy and I both said at the same time.

  Mom huffed and walked away from the window to join me at the counter. Kristy remained to supervise the activity. I suspected she found the three men more attractive than she let on.

  “They’re all wearing leather jackets,” Kristy pointed out to me. “Which one is Wren?”

  “The one with the long hair,” I answered.

  “Looks so soft,” my mom said dreamily, earning a glare from me. “Oh, I see.”

  “No, you don’t,” I refuted. The last thing I needed was for my mom to start thinking Wren was her future son-in-law, nor did I want her to know about the carnal delights I planned to have with him up in that apartment. Carnal delights? I’d moved from fairy tales to bodice-ripper books. “We just work together.”

  “At the salon?” Kristy asked. “He doesn’t look—”

  “Kristy,” my mom interrupted with a warning tone.

  “Gay?” I asked her. “Kristy, you have so much to learn. First, don’t base someone’s sexuality on their job. Second, don’t base their sexuality on the way they dress, talk, or even walk. Sometimes a person’s orientation is a bit more obvious,” I gestured to myself, “and sometimes it’s not.” I pointed at Wren through the window above the sink with the butter knife I used to spread mayo on Grandpa’s sandwich. “It’s best not to assume things about people. It’s just rude and you make an ass of yourself.”

  Kristy gave me an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry.”

  “I appreciate that, but I’d like it more if you listened and learned.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “So what are your plans this afternoon?” Mom asked, changing the subject.

  “I just need to do the usual grocery shopping and stuff.”

  By stuff, I meant that I needed to make a trip to a specialty store to buy a fun gift for Wren. He bought me the soap, and I came up with an idea of how he can keep me in line at work because I was failing miserably at it. Sadness washed over me when I realized that it might not even be necessary, because Wren had been very distant after he received that phone call earlier in the week. He avoided being alone with me and I was eager to get back to how things were between us. I’d given him as much space as I could, but I was going crazy on the inside. I had to try once more, and if that didn’t work, I would back off and not make things awkward between us.

  “Darren, I told you that Dad or I would be more than happy to do the grocery shopping for you and Grandpa,” Mom said. “Why won’t you let us help?”

  Okay, I might’ve exaggerated a tiny bit about my parents being the villains in this not-so-fairy tale. Yes, they did recommend that Grandpa consider assisted living, but not because they were greedy to get his stuff or didn’t love him. They just worried that he was going to hurt himself. They worried even more when I moved in and took over primary care because they felt it was too much responsibility for me to shoulder alone.

  Both my parents worked full-time jobs and were busy in the evenings and on Saturdays with Kristy’s sports and dancing. I couldn’t afford to hire someone to sit with Grandpa seven days a week, so my parents helped out as much as they could on Sundays, so I could get a few hours to myself that didn’t involve work. Unfortunately, grocery shopping was usually one of the things I did. Grandpa was very particular about the brands he liked, which meant that I sometimes had to go to a few different stores. I wouldn’t ask that of my mom or dad.

  “Mom, I don’t mind. I appreciate you sitting with him and making him feel loved so that I can take a little breather.”

  “He is loved.”

  “I know,” I replied quickly. I didn’t want her to feel like she had to defend herself again, so I threw my arms around her. “We’re making the best of it for as long as we can. I know I can’t keep him home forever, but I want to do it for as long as I can.”

  “Go on and run your errands, Dare. Your dad will be here in a little bit and we’ll have a nice family dinner like we do every Sunday.” These gatherings were the highlight of Grandpa’s week.

  “What are you making this week?” I looked forward to seeing my family and eating my mom’s home cooking.

  “Pot roast, new potatoes, and baby carrots. I brought some of that Hawaiian bread you and Grandpa love so much.” She kissed my cheek and made a shooing motion. “Get on out of here and get some fresh air.”

  I took Grandpa his lunch and left them to visit. I didn’t want to bug Wren, but one of his buddies had parked behind me and blocked me in. Our drive
way was wide enough for two vehicles until you pulled even with the house then it narrowed so that only one vehicle could drive back to the detached garage. Wren’s truck was backed up to the building, but one of his buddies must have followed him over or met him here.

  I was nervous as hell when I headed to the apartment. Classic rock and laughter was spilling out of the open door, but that all stopped when I knocked on the frame to make my presence known. The music and laughter both died an awkward death and three sets of eyes stared at me—two of them were surprised and one was anxious.

  “Oh, hey,” Wren said, sounding as nervous as he looked. Why? Did he think I would blab about what we got up to the previous week or did his friends not know he was into guys? Or maybe he just didn’t want them to know he was attracted to me specifically. “Are we being too loud?”

  “What? Loud?” Could it be that simple? “No, I’m blocked in and need to leave.”

  “Leave? Is everything okay? Is Ralph all right?”

  “Oh yeah, he’s fine. I just need to do some grocery shopping and run a few errands. My mom and sister are hanging out with him. They, um, usually do every Sunday so I can get away for a bit.” I was babbling, and Wren’s smile said he thought it was cute.

  “I’m the one who blocked you in,” a blond guy with ornery blue eyes said. He looked me up and down, but more out of curiosity than anything else. “Let me grab my keys, and I’ll be right down.”

  “Thanks,” I said, offering a friendly smile to him before I faced Wren again. “Do you need anything from the store, Wren?”

  “Nope, I’m good. Thanks though.” He was back to wearing his indifferent mask now that the surprise and worry were gone.

  “See you later.”

  I turned and jogged back down the stairs. When I reached the bottom, the other friend spoke up and his words nearly made me trip over my two feet. “He’s fucking adorable. No wonder you were so hell bent on moving into this…place.”

  “Shut up, Jimmy,” Wren said then turned the music back on.