The door finally opened, and I screamed through the giant open space, my voice rising against the volume of the alarm.
“Rowan! Mary! Where are you?”
Chapter Ten
This chakra is driven by the survival instinct, the same that motivates us to procreate and expand our lineage. The root chakra is connected to our most primitive self and controls our primal instincts. Through this chakra, we have an inherent need to protect ourselves at all costs…to survive.
* * *
TRENT
Genevieve plowed through the door of the historical-looking home like a high-speed ball thrown by an all-star pitcher. No stopping, no concerns for her own safety. I chased after her, my injury be damned. It protested with every jolt of my feet hitting the cobblestone walkway as I jogged the best I could after her.
“Rowan! Mary! Where are you?”
Just as I hit the porch, I heard a scuffling sound behind me and caught a glimpse of two guys dressed in black hoodies running past the side of the house where I imagined the garage was. Nimble as teenagers, they both hopped over a small fence and blasted at a full run down the street until they were out of view.
“Fuck!” I turned away, wishing I were in full fighting shape so I could run after them, but then I’d be leaving Genevieve on her own. I couldn’t risk the real knowledge that there could be more than the two intruders that got away.
“Genevieve!” I roared over the sirens piercing my ears. Jesus Christ, someone needed to turn off that alarm.
“Up here!” she cried out.
Cursing these old homes and their unique architecture, complete with a double set of stairs, I attempted the task of getting up them. When I reached the top, I found a door wide open. On the bed sat Genevieve, her arms wrapped around her brother and sister. Her little body shook as she held them.
Rowan’s lifted his head from their huddle, his gaze meeting mine. He gave me the cool guy chin lift, and my heart filled with pride. The boy was turning into a man and needed guidance.
“Hey, gumdrop, you think we could see about turning off that alarm while I check the house?”
“The cops should be here any second,” Rowan said, just as the sound of an additional higher-pitched siren screeched into the area.
Red-and-blue lights flashed against the upper floor bedroom window. I walked over to it and checked. Sure enough, the boys in blue had arrived. “Cops are here. I’ll go talk to them.”
I made my way down the stairs as the cops were entering, guns drawn. I lifted my hands up. “Just got here with the owner of the house.”
The cops nodded. “Anyone else here?”
“One adult female and two children. The boy called us when he heard noises out back. Haven’t checked there, but I did see two males leaving the premises. Didn’t bother to stop and chat as they were escaping.”
“Stay here, sir. We’ll check it out.” The cop waved at his partner to go around the back while he proceeded through the house.
I stood at the base of the stairs, serving as sentinel. Anyone tried to hit the stairs he’d have to go through me first.
“Is it clear?” Genevieve asked from the top of the stairs, her brother and sister behind her.
I shook my head. “Nope. Cops are checking it out.”
Not wanting them to be anywhere near the lower level of the house, I made my way back up and opened my arms. Genevieve’s head plowed right into the center of my chest the moment I reached the top. That fright, the one that had taken up deep in my bones when she jumped off my bike, started to dissipate but didn’t quite leave.
The cops both made their way back in. “You can come down. It’s clear. Can one of you turn off the alarm?”
Genevieve shuffled over to the front door where a square white panel was mounted. She pressed a few buttons and the ringing stopped. Blessed silence.
“Now, can anyone here tell me what happened in detail?” one of the policeman asked.
Rowan stepped up, his spine straight, his voice timid, betraying how afraid he was when he relayed what he’d heard. He didn’t call the cops until he heard the glass breaking. When he heard the noise of someone definitely breaking in, he took his baseball bat and cornered himself and Mary in her bedroom and called the cops.
“Yeah, you’ve got a broken window and a tipped over garbage can out back. Might be a good idea to change out that back door with something more solid. Those old doors with the top half having the crisscrossed windows make it child’s play for intruders to break in. All they have to do is break a small window, put a hand in, and unlock the door. You’ve got a handle lock and a bolt, but that glass doesn’t prevent them from getting in. The alarm though? A great call.”
Genevieve nodded. “Thank you, Officers, for coming so quickly. Is there anything more we need to do?”
The cop stood, tall and beefy—one of those guys who took working out as serious as he did his job. His hand rested on the butt of his holstered gun. “I’m sure your husband here can secure the door.”
Her stunned gaze shot to mine, eyes opened wide, and her mouth moved fast. “Oh, he’s not…uh…my husband.”
“Well, your boyfriend then. Whatever.”
Before she could correct the cop again, I weighed in. “I’ll take care of the door. Thanks, Officers.” I held out a hand.
The cop closest to me proceeded to shake my hand while his eyes went squinty. “Hey! I know you. You’re Trent Fox. Best hitter in baseball!”
I chuckled. “Yep, that’s me.”
“Good to meet you, Mr. Fox. I’m a huge fan of the Ports.”
“Yeah?” Seeing a golden opportunity dangling in front of my eyes, I made my play. “If you got your notebook with ya, I’d be happy to autograph it. Maybe in exchange, you could do a couple drive-bys of the neighborhood over the next few days? Keep an eye on my girl and her family here?” I gestured to the little huddle behind me.
Genevieve was in full mama bear mode, looking over Rowan and Mary to make sure they didn’t have any scratches and hugging them profusely. I had a feeling she’d be keeping them in sight all evening.
Both cops nodded. “Sure, buddy.” They handed over their notepads.
I scribbled out my name and a brief greeting, thanked them again, and walked them out. Going back in, I passed by the family huddle, heading to the back. A small window in the door was broken, glass scattered on the floor. A seething burn of anger filled my chest. What kind of pimple-nosed pricks would invade the home of a woman with two kids? Meaningless pieces of shit, that’s who.
I found a dustpan and broom near the door and cleaned up the glass. Last thing I wanted was my bare-footed yogi chick scarring up her dainty feet. Once I’d cleaned that up, I went out back and found a shed that housed weights and tools. Near the back, I found a sheet of plywood that would fit the entire length of the window.
“Hey, Trent, you need any help?” Rowan came up behind me, watching while I sifted through the tools haphazardly thrown in boxes.
“You know, you should really keep your tools more organized. Not only would they be easier to find, but they’ll last a lifetime if you treat ’em right.” Figured the kid could use some manly advice. It was something my dad had drilled into me from the time I was a baby and set booty-clad feet in his mechanic shop.
“They were…my dad’s.”
I looked Rowan dead in the eyes with as much conviction as I could convey. “Then you should be treating them better because of him.”
Rowan looked down as if I’d shamed him.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Good job tonight, kid. It could have been worse. You acted smart. Kept your head and protected your sister.”
Rowan lifted his head. The hope I saw in his eyes nearly fried me.
“Proud of you.”
He nodded, moved over to a box, and found the hammer I was searching for and a box of nails.
“Thanks. Now, come on and help me board up this window. Then tomorrow I’ll call ab
out a door replacement.”
Rowan narrowed his eyes and tapped his lip with his thumb. “How much does something like that cost? Vivvie’s gonna freak if it’s expensive. We’re kind of on a budget.” He looked away and shuffled his feet.
I gripped him on the shoulder again. “How about you let me worry about the door, and you worry about checking in on your sisters? Yeah?”
“Okay, yeah.” Rowan jogged back into the house.
On a budget. A code word for stone-cold broke. After hearing about how she’d burned through their inheritance paying off the house and was still struggling, I knew she probably wouldn’t have the coin to buy a new door. A flash in the pan for my bank account. Getting her to agree to let me buy one, on the other hand, would take some serious maneuvering.
* * *
GENEVIEVE
Trent found me upstairs just as I’d gotten Mary back to sleep. The alarm and her brother barricading her room had scared the living daylights out of her. My baby girl needed the extra time with me to fall asleep. When I looked up at the doorway, Trent stood, leaning his back up against the jamb, his massive arms crossed in front of his chest. For a moment, I pouted, feeling let down that I hadn’t been able to assuage the hunger for this man earlier. Instantly, a sense of guilt poured over my body like a bucket of ice water, chilling and freezing my limbs and mind.
No. Being with Trent was what had gotten me into this position in the first place. Had I not been with him, I’d have been able to scare off the would-be intruders and I wouldn’t have two scared kids and a broken window. Ugh. It wasn’t his fault. I just wanted someone to blame, but with things like this, there wasn’t anyone. Still, it didn’t change the fact that being with Trent was a bad idea.
I got up, pulled the blankets to Mary’s chin, and kissed her forehead. Shutting the door most of the way, I turned off her light and proceeded to Row’s room. Soft alternative rock music came from behind his door. I knocked.
A muffled “Yeah?” came through the old wooden door.
I opened it and held the knob. He sat cross-legged on his bed, tapping furiously on his phone. Probably telling all his friends about the near miss with the break-in. The single thought sent chills down my spine.
“Just hitting the hay soon and wanted to tell you how happy I am you were here and took care of your sister.”
Rowan’s face lit up at the praise.
Note to self—tell him more often how wonderful he is.
“Anytime, Vivvie. It’s what men do. Protect their family. Just because I’m sixteen doesn’t mean I’m not capable.” Rowan looked directly into my eyes and then to a spot behind my shoulder.
Trent’s body was close. I sensed him before I could see him. His warmth seeped into my backside as I focused my attention on Rowan.
I nodded. “No, you’re right, and you definitely proved that tonight. Thank you, Row. I love you.”
“Love you too. Pancakes tomorrow?” He grinned.
I couldn’t turn him down after the evening we had. Emotional blackmail. Rowan was the king.
“Sure.” I smiled and slid his door shut, booty bumping Trent in the process.
Trent wrapped his large paws around my hips. “Where’s your room?”
I tipped my chin toward the room at the very end of the hall. It had its own small flight of stairs. “You can’t stay,” I said, cutting that idea off right at the quick.
Trent’s hands tightened at my hips. “Excuse me?”
I shushed him. “The kids will hear you.”
He pushed a hand through his hair and sighed. “Gumdrop, the kid already knows I’m here. Now, let’s go into your room, or they may end up hearing a lot more than they bargained for.” His lips curved delectably into a small smile.
His eyes changed color, seemed brighter, greener, fueled by the fire we’d set earlier. Oh, boy. Huffing, I led the way to my parents’ old room. The room was pretty large and far enough away from my brother and sister that I didn’t worry they’d hear us. I opened the door and let him enter. His big form in the room somehow made the large space seem far smaller, more cozy.
“Nice room.” He looked around.
My parents had had great taste. The bedroom set was a chestnut color and looked great against the cucumber-green paint and thick white crown molding and baseboards. Like a lot of houses in the Berkeley hills, this one had been renovated with top-notch window dressings, furnishings, and everything one would need to make a home a home. My parents had spent a pretty penny making this a beautiful place for us to rest our heads, and I was proud of their achievement. Hoped to goodness I could hold onto it.
“Thanks, it was my parents’. I’d already moved out when they passed, so Dad had made my old bedroom into an office. It just made sense for me to move into theirs, plus it makes me feel close to them. I did change some things.”
I dragged a fingertip slowly along the comforter I’d purchased. It was a shimmery taupe and gold. It had little embroidered daisies every few inches. Reminded me of happier times when I’d pick the daises in our backyard with Mom during the spring. Now, they grew wild, and Rowan hacked them down when they all burned to a crisp under the California sun. Nothing like what my mother was able to achieve with her gardening prowess.
Trent set his hands at his hips and took a leadership stance. “Look, gumdrop, the house is not secure. I’m not going anywhere until it is. You got that?”
I narrowed my eyes and focused on him. He stood in the same outfit he’d worn to our date, only he’d removed the jacket. His henley molded to his muscular frame in all the right ways.
“I don’t think you want me to go, either.”
I scanned his hard body from foot to face. “Of course I want you to go. I’m a big girl and can handle myself. Besides, Rowan proved he handles things well under duress.”
One second he was a good ten feet away, and in the next second, he’d closed in. As in really close. He cuffed my neck, thumbs lifting my chin. “No way in hell I’m leaving you or those kids alone tonight. Not until that door is secure. Now, we can continue where we left off earlier”—his tone turned suggestive—“or get some shut eye. Your choice, but I’m sleeping in that bed and there’s not a lot you can do about it.”
His words were confident and tripped my heart with a pang and a heaping dose of pitter-patter. If I wasn’t careful, I’d fall for this alpha guy and his compelling ways without even trying. And it wasn’t just because he was God’s gift to women when it came to sexy bodies. More, it was because the very thing he was fighting for, the reason he was using that protective tone, was because of me. For my safety. I haven’t had that since my parents died, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love that someone else cared enough to bother.
* * *
GENEVIEVE
Trent took the shower as I exited in a camisole and a pair of thin cotton shorts. They were decent but still figure flattering.
As he passed by me, he hooked me with an arm around my waist, and pulled me to his side. “You smell insanely good.” He inhaled deeply against the crook of my neck. With a simple, soft kiss, he let me go and moved his big body into the bathroom. He didn’t even shut the door.
I got into bed but kept casting glances at the bathroom. From this position, I could see directly into the shower stall. It was bubbled glass, but even in silhouette, Trent Fox was a magnificent example of a virile male. His quads were thick as tree trunks, his ass a nice rounded bit of muscle at the top of those wonder thighs. His waist dipped in tight, making the V-shape that all of the girls at yoga drooled over.
My entire body burned from the inside out. I tried to tell myself it was from the hot shower, but I knew better. Trent had worked me up back at his house without even touching me. Just knowing his naked body was under the spray and slicked up with my soap gave me goose bumps. When the water turned off, I grabbed the first book I found on my end table, opened it randomly, and pretended to read it as I sneaked glances at the bathroom. I’d missed the shower e
xit in my haste to grab a decoy…darn it.
Trent stood at the sink, running his fingers through his tousled, wet hair. Water droplets trailed down his damp torso as if they were in a race to get to the promised land. I’d had my mouth on the appendage hidden beneath the towel slung around his hips. I remembered his taste, the subtle hints of salt and man. My knees knocked together under the blanket. That sexual experience with Trent was the most unique I’d ever had. Every evening since that night, I’d dreamed about it, used my vibrator while reminiscing over and over again.
Trent turned toward the opposite vanity near the shower, dropped the towel, and reached for something. Oh, my word. Trent had the finest bum that had ever graced my vision. And surprisingly enough, it was just as tan as the rest of him. I bit down on my lip, thinking I’d rather be biting down on his firm ass cheek. Heat rose through my chest, up my neck, and I placed a hand to my flaming face. As he bent over, I stifled a moan. Instead, I closed my eyes and did some yoga breathing.
I heard the water at the sink turn on and the distinct sound of teeth being brushed. Continuing my mini-meditation, I chanted internally.
You cannot have sex with him here.
You cannot have sex with him here.
You cannot have sex with him here.
“Gumdrop, I already told you we don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. And if here is a problem for you, we’ll improvise.” He turned off the bathroom light and walked to the empty side of the bed.
Oh, sugar! I might have said the chant out loud. Heat blazed across my skin. I continued the measured breaths, attempting to calm down. “I know.”
I couldn’t help checking him out as he stretched his arms over his head. Trent wore nothing but a pair of tight red boxer briefs. His package looked huge behind the thin cotton.
He pushed back the coverlet and slid into the bed. Thank God it was a California King or his large form wouldn’t have fit. The man took up far more room than I did.
Resisting Roots (Lotus House Book 1) Page 12
