by Codi Gary
One dark brow raised, Dustin opened the envelope, and once he saw what was inside, he scowled. “What’s this for?”
“For the moving truck and rent—”
He held the envelope back toward her. “I told you, I don’t need your money.”
“But I need you to take it so that I don’t feel like I am mooching off you.” When he looked as though he was about to argue, she added, “Please.”
Dustin cursed and snapped the envelope closed. “Fine. And I’ll keep you company at the store.”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Humor me.”
Rylie wasn’t sure how her life had changed so much in two days, but having Dustin Kent want to tag along while she bought groceries had to be the strangest incident yet.
* * * *
Dustin had no idea why he kept offering to help Rylie, especially when this morning he’d wanted to keep his distance. It was as if he had no control over himself when it came to needing to protect her. She was getting under his skin and he hated it.
Well, most of him hated it.
He walked behind Rylie into the store, and when she started to pull out a cart, he intercepted.
“I’ll push, you shop.”
She moved out of his way with a huff. “You’re bossy, anyone ever tell you that?”
“Occasionally.”
She pursed her lips, but brought out a piece of paper from her purse. It amused him that she was old school about her shopping list. He usually sent a text to Victoria with what he needed from the store.
As they headed inside, along the front of the store, Dustin looked around and realized it hadn’t changed much in twenty years.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been in here,” he said.
“Really? Why? Because you don’t do your own grocery shopping?”
It was said sarcastically, but he didn’t take offense. “Exactly.”
Rylie looked up from her list to roll her eyes at him. “Ugh, you’re like one of those billionaires in the books I read.”
“I take it that isn’t a compliment.” He followed her down the bread aisle as she tossed a loaf into the cart. Rylie shook her head.
“Depends. Some women love it. I’ve never been into it.”
“Into what?”
“Pretty boys who don’t know how to get their hands dirty.”
Oh, you have no idea what dirty things my hands can do.
His one-track mind roared down a dangerous road and he had to bite the inside of his cheek not to say exactly what he was thinking.
She paused as she grabbed a package of bagels off the shelf. “Don’t say it.”
“Say what?”
“Whatever pervy comeback I set myself up for.”
Dustin chuckled. “Ah, you know me so well.”
“Mmhmm.”
Dustin watched her fill her cart. Her forehead wrinkled as she crossed things off her list, and her all-business demeanor made him want to make her smile. To ease the tension he could see in her shoulders.
“You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I was just thinking it can’t be easy to have that guy showing up at work. Maybe you should talk to someone about getting a restraining order.”
Rylie scoffed. “A restraining order is just a piece of paper that doesn’t protect you if someone really wants to harm you.”
Dustin agreed, but was surprised she didn’t even consider it.
“Besides, I know Asher. He’ll hook up with someone new this weekend and forget about me.”
Dustin didn’t believe that. He’d seen the way Asher looked at Rylie. No matter how screwed up the guy was, he cared about her.
Besides, three years was a long time to be with someone and just forget them in a weekend.
“Selling yourself a bit short, aren’t you?” he said.
She didn’t meet his gaze as she responded, “I’m being realistic. Men never have issues finding someone new after a break-up.”
Well, this conversation wasn’t helping to cheer her up. He thought getting her to talk about her problems might unburden her, but obviously, he was wrong.
They passed the toy aisle and Dustin saw a photo prop kit. He pulled it off the shelf, and opened it up while she was getting some stuff down the opposite aisle. Putting the mustache on a stick above his lips, he pushed the cart one handed until he was right next to her.
When she turned to him, her eyes widened with surprise before she laughed. A sound that warmed him all the way to his toes.
“Where did you get that?”
Talking in a thirties-detective voice, he said, “I’m sorry, miss, but I believe I mustache the questions.”
“You are ridiculous.” When she spotted the open package in her cart, she gasped, “Dustin! You can’t just open this and not buy it.”
“I have every intention of buying it,” he said.
“What for?”
He handed her a pair of fat pink lips from the pack and pulled out his phone. “For our photo shoot.”
She pointed the plastic lips at him like a sword. “I do not feel like taking pictures right now.”
“You do, I can tell by the way you’re smiling.”
Rylie pursed her lips. “I’m not smiling.”
He came up alongside her and held his phone up in proper selfie position. “If you don’t play along, I am going to take awful random pictures and post them all over social media.”
“You monster,” she deadpanned.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s called me today.” He held up his mustache and leaned toward her. “Ready?”
She sighed heavily, but he felt her arm press against his, and the sweet scent of her hair engulfed him as he took the picture.
Dustin checked the photo and showed it to her. “See! Perfect!”
“Nuh uh, my eyes look like they are bugging out of my head! Another.”
It took three shots to get the perfect one, but when they did, Dustin’s mission had been accomplished. Rylie was smiling, the stiffness in her shoulders completely gone.
For some reason, he wanted to continue this, and he found himself acting the fool the whole time they shopped. When he started juggling oranges, she wrestled them away from him, wheezing with laughter.
“You’re going to bruise them, you idiot.”
Dustin trapped her between his body and the orange display, putting the fruit back on the pile slowly. She stilled against him, her laughter dying as he stepped a little closer. When her face tilted up and her bright eyes met his, he leaned down, those lush lips calling for him to—
“Hey! You two stop that right now!”
Rylie jumped and Dustin stepped back, glaring to their left at Mrs. Needermyer. The nosy old woman’s wrinkled mouth was pinched with disapproval.
“Rylie Templeton, you should be ashamed of yourself! You have a boyfriend.”
Rylie’s whole face was flushed scarlet as she addressed her. “We broke up, Mrs. Needermyer. And besides, Dustin and I were just playing around. We’re friends.”
Mrs. Needermyer looked as though she wanted to say more, but Dustin picked up an apple and bit into it, giving her a feral smile. Mrs. Needermyer drew herself up and pointed a finger at him.
“I’m going to tell your mother you’re stealing food. I know you think you’re above it all, but money does not make you untouchable.”
He chewed slowly, and added a large gulp as he swallowed. “I never said I was and I’m not stealing. It’s called sampling. I’ve got an idea though. How about you mind your own business you uppity, self-righteous curmudgeon?”
Both women gasped and Mrs. Needermyer turned her cart around with a huff, heading to the front of the store as fast as she could move.
When
Rylie hit him on the arm, he glared at her. “What was that for?”
“You cannot talk to people like that!”
“Yes, I can. She deserved it, sticking her nose—”
“It doesn’t matter what she was doing. I was handling it; insulting her was uncalled for. Didn’t your mom teach you to be respectful of your elders?”
Dustin’s temper snapped like a rubber band. He didn’t need her sanctimonious lecture.
“It doesn’t matter how old she is, she was out of line. If you want to let everyone walk all over you and run your life, then go right ahead.” He picked up his prop kit and took a vicious bite of his apple. “I’m not so desperate for people to like me that I’ll take their shit.”
He hated the hurt in her eyes, and the slight tremble in her lip, but this was who he was. He wasn’t going to change for anyone.
“Enjoy the rest of your night.”
Chapter 8
It was Saturday, and Rylie was fuming. Dustin hadn’t been into work the rest of the week. He’d told Kelly that he had a virus and was sick in bed.
But Rylie knew better. He wasn’t sick; he was pouting. If he was sick, then she wouldn’t have seen Paula Kramer sneaking out of his house this morning with her heels in her hand and her hair looking like she’d spent all night with Dustin Kent’s hands in it.
This had nothing to do with the fact that he’d been avoiding her since his blow up at the grocery store, or that his bedroom was a revolving door. They had stuff to get done. He was her partner, for better or worse.
So his butt was going to work even if she had to drag him out of the house and lock him in the trunk of her car.
She marched up the steps to the house and knocked on the door. Victoria opened it several moments later, a wide smile on her face.
“Ah, Rylie, are you hungry? I can make you whatever you like.”
“Thank you, Victoria, I’m okay. I was actually wondering if Dustin was up yet.”
Victoria appeared slightly uncomfortable as she said, “Mr. Kent is still in bed, I’m afraid. He has been under the weather.”
I bet.
“Do you mind if I just go up and have a chat with him? It’s about work.”
Victoria’s eyes twinkled. “Are you sure you don’t want me to warn him?”
“Oh, no, I think the element of surprise is best. Where is his room?”
“Top of the stairs, second door on the left.” Victoria picked up her purse and car keys. “Just give me a two-minute head start. That way, he can’t fire me for not trying to stop you.” She pulled an innocent look and said, “‘I had no idea she was going up to your room, sir. I’d already left to run your errands.’”
Rylie laughed softly. “Good call.”
Victoria saluted her, and Rylie waited until she heard the front door shut before she started for the stairs. Artistic photographs and paintings adorned the white walls instead of family photos, and the second floor felt sterile and cold. She opened his bedroom door and stopped dead in her tracks.
He was naked. Buck naked, on his stomach with the sheet tangled just below his round, gorgeous ass.
Rylie hadn’t expected to find him so exposed. She almost turned tail and ran, but something caught her attention. His bare back was exposed and as the sun streaked through the gap in his black-out curtains, she saw the white crisscross scars on his skin. Her heart squeezed as she counted dozens of them.
She took an involuntary step closer and before she knew it, she was standing next to the bed, looking down at the right side of his face. The muscles were relaxed, his lashes thick, and his mouth open slightly as his breathing came out hoarse and deep.
God, he really was such a beautiful man and he had obviously suffered. No wonder he had a hard time making connections with people and could be such a giant pain in the—
“Watching someone sleep is fucking creepy, you know that, right?”
His deep voice startled her so much that she lost her balance and started backpedaling. Her heel hit a knot in the wood floor and it snapped off with a crack, sealing her fate. She toppled backward and crashed into a table in the corner before she reached the floor. The skirt of her dress had flown up, as the cool draft on her bottom proved, and she wanted to sink into the floor.
Well, I did see his rear end. Only fair he sees mine.
“Jesus, Rylie, are you all right?”
She could hear the laughter in his voice as his feet padded across the room, but she refused to look up. She had already seen enough of him.
“Yes,” she groaned. Her hip was throbbing as was her arm. When Dustin squatted down next to her and took her chin in his hand, she tried to fight back the tears as he raised her gaze to his.
“No, you aren’t.”
She squeaked as he slipped his arms around her shoulders and behind her knees and lifted her straight up from the floor.
“Stop, you’re going to hurt yourself!”
“Shut up,” he said gruffly.
He carried her over to the bed and sat down with her on his lap. She tried to wiggle off, very much aware that he was naked, but he tightened his arms.
“Chill. I’m just checking to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine, really, I just—”
His fingers slipping off her broken shoe stalled her words. She gulped as he took her ankle gently and turned it in a circle.
“Does this hurt?”
She shook her head, unable to meet his gaze, she was too embarrassed. She stared at his mouth, instead.
Big mistake.
“My heel just caught something. I’m not hurt. Although I think I destroyed the table.”
“I don’t care about the table.” His hand rested on her calf and she blushed as she felt something hard poking her butt.
“I was… I was just coming to tell you that I need you to come back to work.”
“Didn’t Kelly tell you? I’ve been sick.” To emphasize his lie, he fake coughed.
Her gaze finally snapped up to his, and she scowled at the mischievous gleam in his eye. “You are not. You’re just avoiding me and it’s stupid.” With a heavy sigh, she took the leap first, and said, “I am sorry for lecturing you on how you spoke to Mrs. Needermyer. I understand how frustrating she can be. You are a grown man and I shouldn’t have overstepped.”
He tilted his head, as if considering her. “Hmm, and for hitting me?”
“I am sorry for that too. It was immature. I will try to fight the urge.”
“Then apology accepted.”
Rylie waited, and when he didn’t reciprocate, she poked him in the shoulder.
“Hey, I thought you were going to stop assaulting me!” he said.
“It was just a poke. And it’s your turn.”
He scowled. “For what?”
“For calling me a doormat and stomping out of the grocery store like a big baby.”
“I didn’t—”
“You did! You were a complete asshat. Not at all acceptable.”
Dustin’s lips twitched. “Your apology for lecturing me is slowly losing credibility.”
“Well, it was embarrassing, and to be honest, it hurt my feelings. I thought we were having fun.”
She hated how vulnerable she sounded, but it was true. She’d been feeling so stressed after Asher had shown up, and Dustin’s goofy antics had eased it. She’d started to remember why she’d initially seen something in him when he’d first began working at Something Borrowed.
But his reaction to Mrs. Needermyer and Rylie’s chastening had just confused her again. She’d been taught not to talk that way to her elders. That didn’t make her a doormat.
His thumb grazed her chin and her gaze met his.
“I was having fun, but I’m still an asshole. Nothing’s going to change that. I don’t pretend to be someone
different. You can’t change or save me.”
Rylie swallowed hard at the intensity in his blue eyes. “I’m not trying to save you, but I don’t believe that’s all you are.”
At her soft admission, his nostrils flared, and he stared at her lips. “You should go.”
“But you need to come to work—”
“Right now you are sitting on my lap, you feel really good, and your mouth is too close.”
She blinked at him. “Are you saying you want to kiss me?”
His blue eyes turned nearly black and her thighs clenched in reaction to that look. Lust. Dustin wants me.
“Yes. Yes, I want to kiss you. Everywhere.”
Rylie’s heart slammed against her breastbone and she found herself tempted. Oh so very tempted.
Then she remembered the girl sneaking from his house this morning and she pushed herself off him, putting distance between her traitorous body and his.
“You are a pig. You really can’t keep it in your pants for more than a few hours?”
He leaned back on his hands with a grin, but she refused to look down. “It seems to have escaped your notice, but I’m not wearing pants.”
“Oh!” She picked up her broken shoe and limped out of his room.
The unbelievable nerve of him. Propositioning and teasing her. And she’d started to think he might be a decent guy.
“See you at work, sweetheart,” he called after her.
Rylie grit her teeth, resisting the urge to turn around and throw her broken heel at his head. She was going to have to call the realtor and find something else to rent. There was no way she could stay here anymore and not kill him.
* * * *
A half an hour later, Dustin stood in his shower, letting the hot water rain down on him as he stared at the tile floor, emotions churning in his gut.
God, he was a dick.
He really hadn’t meant to be, but when he’d first come awake to find her hovering over him, he’d been on alert. He knew she could probably see everything.
His ass. His back. The scars.
Dustin’s hand came up to finger one of the raised lines on his shoulder. They weren’t his scars; he wasn’t claiming them. They belonged to his dad.
He’d never told his mom or his brothers about them. He’d wondered if his brothers shared similar marks across their skin from the buckle of their dad’s belt, but he didn’t ask. Like the nights his mom had screamed and cried from his parent’s bedroom, it wasn’t something they talked about.
