Cook's Choice: A Bad Boy Protector Romance (Lost Boys Book 4)

by Janice M. Whiteaker

  “Why do you have that on?” It’s the shirt I gave her last night to sleep in.

  I thought about that damn shirt all night. Agonized over the fucking thing.

  And now it’s back to torture me again.

  Carly’s hand plays with the worn hem. “I like it. It’s comfortable.” She grips the fabric. “Do you want it back?”

  “No.” I jump away. “Keep it.”

  “I wasn’t going to take it off here.” Her head tilts. “Unless you really want it now.” The hand gripping the bottom slowly starts to lift.

  “Stop it.”

  “Why?” Carly’s hand is still moving. A tiny strip of smooth skin appears above the waistband of the pink pajama pants she’s wearing. “If it’s that important to you I should give it back, right?”

  I know she doesn’t have the balls to take it all the way off.

  I also know I don’t have the balls to deal with it if she does.

  And right now I’m betting on her balls over mine.

  Because Carly is sweet and she is soft.

  But she’s also persistent and that’s becoming a problem.

  “I had to go back to work.” I hold my hands out like I’m negotiating with a bank robber. “There was a problem and they needed me to come back in.”

  “What was the problem?”

  Shit.

  “Fryer caught on fire.” I spit out the first thing I think of that sounds bad and plausible.

  “They called you to come back and put out a fire instead of calling the fire department?”

  She’s definitely not buying it.

  Carly’s chin lifts. “I think you were upset I kissed you.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.” I back away, trying to calculate how far the distance is to the back door.

  “What do you want to talk about, Levi?”

  “Stop calling me that.” I can’t handle hearing her say it. It was a weapon I never should have given her.

  “It’s your name, though.” Carly’s eyes study me in the darkness. “It’s who you are.”

  “It’s not who I am.” This woman frustrates me in ways I can’t even put into words. “You don’t know me, Pinky. Got it?”

  Her lips barely purse. “Maybe you don’t know me either.”

  “I’m not pretending I do.” I glance toward the front windows as a shadow passes by them. “Goddammit.”

  “What?” Carly turns, trying to follow my line of sight.

  I grab her fast, clamping my hand over her mouth as I pull us into the darkest corner of the firehouse. I lean into her ear, keeping my voice as low as possible. “I need you to be very, very quiet. Understand?”

  Carly nods, her wide eyes following the shadowy figure as it moves around the perimeter of the building.

  Careful not to move into the dim glow of one of Felicity’s wax warmers, I tuck her body behind mine, keeping one hand on her hip. Carly grips my shoulders, her front pressed tight to my back as she watches over my shoulder.

  I need backup. Crow and Preacher are just down the hall, but getting there will put me in view of anyone peeking through the open blind slats. Felicity has an extra layer of thin see-through curtains on each window, which is nice to look at, but shit for stopping prying eyes.

  I lean back so I can whisper to Carly. “I’ve got to go get Preacher and Crow. You stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  Her eyes are wide, but she nods, hands falling from where they held me so tight. Carly tucks deeper into the corner. I feel her eyes on me as I move from spot to spot, keeping track of the figure as I go. In less than thirty seconds I’m out of sight and racing down the hall toward the bedrooms, knocking open doors as I go. “Get your asses up. Someone’s outside.”

  Both men race into the hall, eyes already sharp. I tip my head back to the front of the house and start to move.

  A soft click makes my blood run cold.

  I fucking forgot to lock the back door.

  I go into a full run, but it’s still not fast enough. A second later Carly’s scream slices through the silence, cut short by a sharp bang and a heavy thud.

  “You’re dead motherfucker.” I need whoever’s here to know I’m coming for them.

  And that they will pay for touching her.

  I trip on a body on the floor, stumbling over it in the dark, barely managing to catch myself against the dining room table. I shove up, ready to make something bleed.

  But who I find standing on the other side leaves me speechless.

  Carly holds a heavy baking sheet in her hands, chest heaving in short bursts.

  “What the fuck was that for?” Moon rolls to his back, one hand resting against the back of his head.

  Carly’s eyes drop to where he lays on the floor. “Oh my gosh.” She drops the pan and crouches down beside him. “I thought you were one of the horse guys.”

  Crow flips on the light, making us all squint at the change.

  I get a full look at the dining room table. “What the fuck?” I turn to the guilty faces behind me. “I’m not your fucking mom.”

  The table is still scattered with the remnants of their dinner. Plates and glasses are everywhere.

  Preacher shrugs. “We figured you weren’t coming back tonight.” His eyes slide to Crow. “And we might have been a little shit-faced.”

  “You got shit-faced when you were supposed to be making sure she was safe?” My adrenaline is still pumping fast and strong. I step over Moon and slam both hands into the center of Preacher’s chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “You’re the one who left her, man.” Preacher shoves me back. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Enough!” Carly’s voice is loud and strong, making all of us turn her way. “Stop fighting or you will have to go to your rooms.”

  Our gazes move from one man to the next.

  Did she really just threaten to send us to our rooms?”

  “If you can’t behave then you can’t be out with everyone else.” Carly holds her hands out for Moon. “Let’s get you off the floor.”

  Moon gives her an easy smile. “Thank you, Carly.” His gaze slides my way as he lets Carly help him off the floor. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

  “It’s okay.” Her eyes are on his. “How do you feel?”

  “I’ll live.” Moon reaches back to gingerly feel around his head. “You’ve got a heck of a swing.”

  “Thanks.” Carly looks to Crow. “Niko, can you get him some ice or something?”

  “Sure thing, Carly.” Crow grins at me over his shoulder as he goes to the freezer.

  Carly has her hands on Moon, one at his back and the other resting against his bicep, as she leads him toward the couch. “Come lay down.”

  “Why are you here?” I cross my arms, focused completely on where she’s touching him. “I thought you were shacking up with one of the girls from the club.”

  Moon lets Carly help him ease back on the sofa. “Caught her stealing from the drawer.” Moon winces as his head hits the arm.

  Carly grabs a pillow and shoves it behind him. “She was stealing from your business?”

  “She thought being with me offered her certain liberties.”

  Carly’s nose wrinkles. “That’s terrible.”

  Moon shrugs. “It happens.”

  “Doesn’t sound like you were very attached to her.” Carly adjusts the pillow a little, then steps back.

  “Moon doesn’t get attached to anyone.” Crow tosses a bag of frozen peas at Moon’s stomach.

  Carly’s eyes find me for a heartbeat before bouncing back to the man she just assaulted with kitchen ware. “That’s sad.” She straightens. “I’m sorry I hurt your head.”

  “Don’t be. It’s always good to know who’s capable of handling shit and who’s not.” Moon looks straight at me.

  “I should go to bed.” Carly pats Moon on the shoulder. “Goodnight. “ She looks to Preacher and Crow. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

 
Her eyes don’t come to mine. Not even for a second.

  When the door to my room clicks shut Niko turns to me. “I think you pissed her off.”

  “Shut up.” I go to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

  “She said goodnight to everyone but—”

  “I said shut up.” I yank the pot off the maker and fill it with water. “She was going to get pissed at me sooner or later. Probably better it was sooner.”

  Crow rubs the back of his neck. “I can’t take her to work in the morning. Joe and I got a job an hour away so I gotta leave early.”

  “I can’t either.” Preacher yawns. “I gotta go take Jill to a doctor’s appointment.”

  “I can take her.” Moon shifts around on the couch, working the peas against the back of his skull. “I got plenty of time in the mornings now.”

  I shove one finger his way. “No.”

  No way is Moon taking Carly anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

  “Just trying to be helpful, man.” Moon’s face is about as innocent as his intentions.

  “Like fuck you are.” I pour out the first coffee that drops free and swallow down the scalding liquid. “You go near her and I’ll break every bone in your body.”

  Crow’s brows go up. “That mean you’re saying she’s—”

  “I’m saying if he touches her I’ll kill him.” I advance on Moon’s still smirking face. “Don’t even fucking think about it. She’s not like other women.”

  “Maybe that’s the appeal.” Moon doesn’t look intimidated at all as I come at him. “Maybe I’m tired of the bullshit.”

  “I’ll give you fucking bullshit.” I lunge at him, grabbing onto his body and dragging it to the floor. He’s got quite a few inches and pounds on me, but white hot rage and pent up frustration work in my favor. Soon I have him pinned under me.

  And a second later I’m being hauled off by the hair on my head.

  8

  “WHAT IS WRONG with you?” I pull at the only thing I could easily grab on Cook. “He’s probably got a concussion.”

  “He’s about to have more than that.” Cook doesn’t fight me, but he also doesn’t come easily.

  “Stop it.” I manage to get an arm looped around one of his, which gives me better leverage to pry his body off Moon’s.

  When I finally get him away I turn to find Preacher and Niko staring at me. Niko eyes me. “Who are you?”

  I put my body between the two men acting like hormonal teenagers.

  Or old men.

  Same difference.

  Both have bad attitudes and a point to prove.

  “I had to take a bunch of classes on physical mediation for work.” I turn to glare at Cook. “I usually only have to use it on people who don’t know any better.”

  Cook’s eyes widen. “Don’t know any better?”

  “That’s what I said.” I was almost asleep when a loud thump jolted me upright, reigniting the adrenaline from Moon’s unexpected arrival. “You are two grown men.”

  I’m tired. I’m frustrated.

  This is so much more work than I thought it would be. It’s almost not worth it.

  Almost.

  “Anyone want to make it up to me by telling me who Herbert Wallace is?” I look from man to man, watching as every set of eyes drops to the floor. “That’s what I thought.” I suck in a breath, trying to temper the sudden urge to scream. It’s not as easy as it used to be. “I’m going back to bed. Please don’t wake me up again.” I stomp my way down the hall and slam the door, giving my anger the tiny outlet in the hopes it will help me reign it back in.

  Instead it fuels it more, feeding an emotion I’ve always worked hard to suppress.

  One of many.

  But I can’t help it. This is all going to be for nothing. Every darn bit of it.

  I thought I could do it. That I could push through my comfort zone and be who I needed to be.

  Be who I maybe would have been if my life had been different.

  The bed is still warm when I collapse onto it face first.

  It’s the last night I’m going to sleep in it. Tomorrow I go back to the drawing board.

  I will find a different way to get the answers I need.

  If The Horsemen, or whatever their name is, find me and it all ends then so be it.

  At least it will be over.

  “Pinky.” Cook’s tone is sharp as he shoves open the door without knocking.

  “Go away.” I pull the covers over my head.

  “No.” His feet come across the wood floor. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Well I don’t want to talk to you.” I add a pillow to the pile covering me and tuck my arm under the mess. “Leave me alone.”

  “No.” Cook starts grabbing at the blankets.

  I flip them back, throwing them at him. “This is all your fault.” I jump up, standing in the middle of his bed, a pillow clutched in my hands.

  I’ve never been mad before.

  Frustrated, yes.

  Irritated, definitely.

  But never angry. Not like this.

  “I hate you.” I start to wail on him, taking my first shot right at his stupid handsome face. “You make me so angry.” I nail him a second time, this one catching his right shoulder as he tries to fight me off.

  But I’m on a roll now, taking out things I didn’t know I held on the man in front of me. “I hate all of it.” Another hit. “Everything.”

  Levi grabs at the pillow, trying to block my hits while he attempts to take away my weapon. He’s talking but I don’t care what he says.

  It doesn’t matter.

  Nothing matters because everything is terrible and I want him to know how awful it is.

  “Stop it, Carly.” He finally manages to get hold of the case of the pillow, but I yank it free, leaving him holding the empty shell.

  So poetic.

  “If you would just stop pretending to be something you’re not, none of this would have happened.” I slam him with the naked pillow.

  “I’m not pretending, Pinky.” He uses the case held between both hands to catch some of the impact. “I’m an ass.”

  “Well you are now.” I yelp as he grabs the pillow and yanks it away. “Give that back.”

  “What? No.” He throws it across the room.

  “I said give it back.” I lunge at him, hitting Levi’s frame harder than I intend to. He grabs me as our tangled bodies topple over the edge of the bed. Levi grunts as his back hits the hard floor, my weight landing on top of him. The impact seems to stun him a little.

  Not me. I’m caught up in something I’ve never experienced. It’s as if everything I’ve ever been upset about in my life is screaming to be heard.

  Acknowledged.

  Understood.

  “I just want to know the truth and you won’t give it to me.” I punch at his chest, my arms windmilling, my hair falling into my face.

  Levi tries to catch my wrists, fumbling a few times as I manage to wiggle them free, but he’s faster than I am. “Let me go.”

  “No. Not until you calm the fuck down.”

  “I don’t want to calm down.” I lean back, pulling as hard as I can against his grip, but Levi holds tight, rolling with my movement until I’m pinned under him, arms held against the floor above my head.

  “Carly.” His eyes are on mine. “Sweetheart, I need you to breathe. You’re going to hyperventilate.”

  “I don’t care.” I stopped caring when the only person I ever had at my side died. Leaving me with nothing but questions and suspicions and regrets.

  I can’t live with them the way she did.

  “I care.” His face is close to mine. “I’m sorry I can’t tell you what you want to know, Pinky. I swear I am.”

  “You’re not.” I shake my head. I don’t want him to be sorry. I just want him to be...

  Cook’s eyes search mine. “I don’t like when you look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” I snap it out at him. I want him to se
e the anger he’s caused. I want him to know how I feel.

  “Like you don’t care what happens to you.” His free hand is right by my face and the tips of his fingers brush against my skin. “What happened, Pinky?”

  I’ve kept my suspicions to myself. Only one other person in the world knows why I’m hunting Herbert Wallace. Violet.

  She’s the only person I have.

  An old woman I’m paid to take care of is the best friend I’ve ever had. It’s pathetic.

  My whole life has been pathetic.

  And it’s one man’s fault.

  “He’s my father.” I practically spit it out, disgust and hate making the admission bitter on my tongue.

  Levi’s quiet for a minute as his fingers continue their soft passes across my cheek. “That’s what I thought.”

  “You knew?” I nearly choke on it. It feels like a betrayal. “And you still wouldn’t tell me?”

  “It’s why I wouldn’t tell you, Pinky.” Levi’s grip on my hands tightens as I try to get free. “I won’t let you try to find him.”

  “Won’t let me?” I’ve done what I was told my whole life. Tried to be everything my mother wanted since I was a burden she didn’t intend to have.

  I followed all the rules she set for me. Even when I was teased. Ridiculed for the things I wore. The way I acted.

  Called pathetic.

  I had no friends. Just my mother.

  And all she wanted was to ensure I never ended up like she did.

  But it was wrong.

  What she thought.

  Where she placed the blame.

  How she raised me.

  Every bit of it was wrong.

  And I’m done pretending any different.

  “I will find him, Levi.” I can barely fight the words out. “And I will make him pay for what he did to my mother.”

  What he did to me.

  “That’s why you’re here, Pinky?” Cook seems surprised. “Violence against Herbert Wallace?”

  I nod.

  I’ve never admitted that to anyone. Not even myself.

  I pretended it was just the truth I was after, because I was still clinging to the skewed beliefs my mother taught me from the time I was born.

  That good girls don’t wear short skirts.