Quit Bein' Ugly

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  I doubt I’d even be released to work out by then.

  I watched the door closely, my eyes on the delivery driver, when the thought of ‘oh shit, what if they followed me home?’ occurred to me.

  I stood up and painfully made my way toward the door.

  When I got there, the young Chinese delivery driver looked up at me with a grin as wide as Texas.

  Her eyes slid down the length of my body, and she blinked owlishly.

  “You want more fortune cookies?” she asked, holding them out to me.

  I reached forward and pulled two extras from her hand, causing her to smile.

  “Thank you,” Carmichael said, sounding a little miffed.

  I frowned at her, but over their heads, I scanned the road, and was thankful when I spotted a cruiser parked across the street in Carmichael’s driveway.

  Knowing that she was protected, I went back to the couch and once again collapsed into it, this time promising myself I wouldn’t be moving for quite some time.

  With my eyes closed and my head resting on the back of the couch, I blindly opened my fortune cookie, being careful not to jar my arm, and pulled the fortune out.

  Tossing it onto the table next to the couch, I popped the entire cookie into my mouth and crunched hard, moaning at the taste.

  I loved fortune cookies.

  Like seriously, if I could have a box of only fortune cookies, they’d all be fucking gone in a heartbeat.

  “I can’t believe you like those.” I felt her leaning over me, her shirt brushing my arm. “Did you read your fortune?”

  I shook my head. “I’m too tired to open my eyes.”

  I heard her setting boxes out, walking out of the room, and gathering forks and spoons.

  When she came back, she was reading the fortune.

  “When you’re mad, sing the alphabet,” she singsonged.

  I blinked one eye open.

  “It doesn’t say that,” I grumbled.

  “It does.” She turned it so that I could see it.

  But she was standing six feet away and the print was the size of a grain of rice.

  “Hope you like sweet and sour chicken,” she said. “Here’s your fork.”

  I was already shaking my head. “No fork. Chopsticks.”

  She scrunched her nose at me. “You can’t use chopsticks.”

  “Watch me,” I said as I held out my hand for the plate of food she was holding out to me.

  She ignored my outstretched hand and instead moved the table closer to me, followed shortly by placing some pillows behind my back.

  When I was all sat forward, she held out the chopsticks that’d come with the meal, but also made sure that she left a fork next to my plate in case I needed it.

  I wouldn’t.

  If I couldn’t use chopsticks, I’d rather not eat.

  Once I was settled and eating, she sat down, too, petting Lion when she curled up at her feet.

  I couldn’t believe that she was at my house, on my couch, and eating Chinese food next to me.

  When we’d arrived home from the hospital I kind of half expected her to drop me off at the door and go home.

  I was thankful that she didn’t.

  I hadn’t really given her the best impression.

  “I talked to my mom today,” I said softly.

  She turned to survey me.

  “Yeah?”

  I nodded. “She said that I was a dumbass.”

  Her brows rose.

  “She did? How surprising.”

  Her humor made my cock hard.

  I licked my lips and continued.

  “That night,” I said. “The night of our date?”

  She stiffened.

  “I don’t even have an excuse. Suffice it to say, this huge case landed in my lap, and I should’ve handled things differently,” I admitted, not bothering to beat around the bush about how stupid I was. “I didn’t even notice that I missed our date until well into the night, and my mind was all over the fuckin’ place when… Jesus, it sounds worse when I try to explain. I’m sorry, Carmichael.”

  Her eyes went soft for a few long seconds before she sighed. “It’s okay. It’s not like we would’ve worked out, anyway.”

  I frowned. “What? Why?”

  I for sure needed to know the answer because I wanted her in my bed. I wanted her in my life.

  I’d learned my lesson.

  She shrugged, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

  “No reason.” She shrugged.

  CHAPTER 8

  I love your personality, but that dick is a huge bonus.

  -Text from Carmichael to Croft

  CROFT

  Her phone went off, and she dove for it, looking for all she was worth as if she was desperate for something to change the subject.

  Her face fell the moment that she read what was on the screen.

  “What is it?” I asked quietly.

  She frowned hard at the screen.

  “A week or so ago I paired Danger, that malamute I told you about months ago, with a prospective owner. The owner just contacted me, telling me that they don’t think that they can keep her. That she’s too skittish, and every time they get near her, she pees all over the floor.” She sighed. “Shit. That poor dog.”

  The thought of her business venture, the one that paired dogs with their owners, usually made me smile.

  But hearing that her dog that she just paired, the one that she’d taken a liking to, had been rejected, stung.

  “What now?” I asked.

  “Now they bring her back to me.” She shrugged. “They said that they would drop her off tomorrow, and they’d like to try again with another dog.”

  She grimaced.

  “Is that okay with you?” I asked.

  She made a face. “It’s fine, it’s just that I’ve found that usually when they give up one dog, they’re not really sure what they want, and they’re just trying to try them all out without really intending to keep one. That’s what happened to Sally’s previous owners.”

  “Sally?” I asked.

  “Sally is a Doberman. She’s a little rambunctious and likes to dig. She also can scale a six-foot privacy fence, so she either needs lots of land to roam, or an owner that’s not going to let her out and forget about her. Because you do that with Sally, and she’s gone. She’s just a curious little toot.” Carmichael lit up when she spoke about her dogs.

  “Where’s Sally now?” I asked. “I know that you were keeping Danger at home with you, right?”

  She nodded. “I am. Was. Will be again, I suppose. As for Sally, I have her staying with a friend.”

  “What friend?” I asked.

  “Schultz,” she answered. “I think that I might try to convince Schultz to keep her, though. They’re really good together, and even more, the kids are really good with her, too. She doesn’t wander when they’re around to keep her entertained.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Do you have feelings for Schultz?”

  I shifted uncomfortably once the words left my mouth, not because of the gunshot wound to my shoulder, but because I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that.

  One, I was kind of scared of the answer. Two, I didn’t want to hate Schultz, because he was a great workout partner and beginning to become a really good friend.

  It was the expression on her face that had my abdominals loosening.

  “Schultz is a friend,” she answered. “That’s it. That’s all he’ll ever be. I’m not saying that I don’t want kids, but I think that everything that comes with Schultz would be a pain in the ass thanks to who his sister is.”

  Nivea, Schultz’s sister, had once dated Flint, Carmichael’s brother.

  Things had gone fantastically wrong, and at the end of the day, every time someone ran into Nivea, she made it a very, very big deal.

  Just last week I’d heard about Camryn and Flint running into Nivea and the kids at the grocery store.

  Apparently, it’d been a rat
her large blowout on Nivea’s part, to the point where the cops were called.

  And Schultz, being one of the responding officers, had to deal with a family dispute that involved his own family.

  Nivea and Schultz shared custody of their nieces, but Schultz was currently taking her back to court to get even that small amount of time she got to spend with them revoked.

  “The only reason you’re not dating him is because of his awful sister?” I asked, feeling my stomach sink.

  “Not the only reason, no,” she admitted. “Schultz is nice to look at and all, but he’s just not… it for me.”

  Was that a deep breath I could take? Or was it just because I’d repositioned my body?

  “Oh,” I said. “So, you’d be willing to go out with me?”

  She looked at me oddly.

  “Croft,” she said softly. “I’m not doing this with you right now. You’re high on pain meds, you’ve just been shot, and neither one of us is thinking very clearly right now. Can we just please eat, watch a movie, and not talk about this?”

  I’d give her that out.

  For now.

  Until the pain meds had worn off, and I wasn’t currently falling asleep.

  But when I woke up in the morning? Game on.

  We finished our dinner in relative silence, but every once in a while, we would laugh at something that was said on the television program she was watching.

  However, by the time that I was finished with my food and was leaning into the couch with my head lolling to the side, I couldn’t stop myself from succumbing to sleep.

  The thing was, I wasn’t mad that I did.

  Because a few hours later when I woke up to her laughing, it was one of the best feelings in the world.

  When my eyes opened, it wasn’t just the pain that had me waking up. It was the smile on Carmichael’s face as she read something on her phone.

  “What are you laughing about over there?” I asked, voice raw with sleep.

  She looked over, her face guilty, as if she didn’t want to tell me.

  “I don’t think it’s good for you to laugh right now,” she admitted. “And this’ll make you laugh.”

  My brows rose. “I bet I won’t laugh.”

  She turned more fully to face me, her feet brushing my side as she said, “Wanna bet?”

  I thought about that for a moment.

  Did I want to bet that I wouldn’t laugh? It depended on what I would lose if I laughed.

  “Depends on what we’re talking about,” I admitted. “Are we talking about the fact that I have to give up beer for a month if I laugh? Or do you want me to mow your lawn for a week?”

  She looked thoughtful for a moment.

  “How did you know how much I hated mowing the lawn?” she asked.

  Because I practically stalked her when she and I were both at home.

  Because, when she was around, there was nothing else that I would rather do but watch her. Even if it was her sweating while trying to get her lawnmower started.

  “Because I want you,” I told her bluntly. “When you’re outside in short shorts and a tank top, what else do you expect me to do? Ignore the fact that your beautiful thighs and ass are on display? I think not.”

  Her mouth fell open in surprise.

  “Did you just compliment me?” she asked with a note of surprise in her voice.

  Which instantly made me feel like shit.

  Had she never seen the way that my eyes stayed glued to her ass at the gym?

  She had one particular pair of shorts that literally brought me to my knees.

  So many times, I’d caught her with those shorts on, and so many times I’d nearly had a heart attack when I’d had to work out while watching her ass bounce around in those shorts.

  And now, I found myself in a predicament.

  Did I tell her how much the shorts made my dick hard?

  When I opened my mouth to tell her everything that I felt when it came to her, she leaned forward quickly on the couch and started to read.

  “What is Moby Dick’s father’s name?” she asked, eyes on me but alight with humor.

  I wasn’t sure that I liked that gleam in her eyes.

  “Umm.” I paused. “I don’t know. What?”

  Her lips twitched. “Papa boner.”

  I closed my eyes to will the laughter bubbling up in my throat to subside.

  It did, but only barely.

  It came rearing right back when I looked at her face and saw her smiling huge.

  “What else you got?” I asked.

  She narrowed her eyes at me, then said, “Two nuns are out cycling. One says, ‘I’ve never come this way before.’ The other one says, ‘It must be the cobblestones.’”

  My jaw physically hurt from smiling.

  “How does a bald man run his fingers through his hair?” she questioned.

  I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. “I don’t know, how?”

  “He cuts holes in his pockets.”

  I licked my lips.

  “Why is Santa’s sack so heavy?” she leaned forward, causing her shorts to ride up.

  My eyes went to her legs, and I kind of sort of forgot to hold on to my composure.

  “Why?” I croaked.

  “Because he only comes once a year.”

  That did it.

  I burst out laughing.

  And immediately regretted it.

  Seeing that smile on her face, though? That made it all worth it.

  Upon seeing the pain on my face, the smile immediately died from hers.

  “We should get you another pain pill and in bed,” she said as she stood up.

  She started to gather our trash and take it to the kitchen.

  I went to follow her, but the moment that my body moved from its spot, I realized rather quickly that the pain meds that’d been keeping me comfortable had definitely worn off.

  Now there was a dull, throbbing, tearing sensation that was slowly killing me.

  It was truly awful, and the nausea that I’d only thought was gone was back.

  “Sit still, man.” She placed her hand on my head. “I’ll get it.”

  I didn’t want her to get it.

  But when I tried to drop my legs from the couch, I learned rather quickly that I was fooling myself.

  “Here,” she said when she came back the second time. “This is the pain med and the antibiotic. They recommend that you take the pain meds every four hours.”

  “Yeah,” I groaned as I held out my hand. “I’ll be making sure to do that. Even if I have to set a fuckin’ alarm. I’m getting too old for this shit.”

  She snorted. “You’re thirty-five, Croft. That’s not old.”

  “Thirty-six as of…” I looked at my watch. “Two hours ago.”

  Her breath left her. “It’s your birthday?”

  I nodded once and tossed the pills into my mouth.

  She held out a bottle of water with the top already twisted off.

  I swallowed the horse pills and sighed.

  “Yep,” I said. “Way to celebrate the next year, huh?”

  “Your parents and family are out of town on your birthday?” she asked, sounding horrified.

  “Kind of hard for them to be here when I bought them the tickets that would allow them to go on a mini-cruise vacation. They are leaving out of Galveston, and I’d heard that it was not a bad drive down there. They are taking Raleigh, Ezra and the baby so it wasn’t like it was a hardship for them to go.”

  “But it’s your birthday,” she countered. “That’s no fun for you.”

  I looked over at her then. “I’m thirty-six. It’s not like it’s my sixteenth birthday or anything. This wasn’t an ‘oh wow,’ birthday. Just a ‘meh.’”

  She rolled her eyes and finished picking up our trash.

  Once she was done, she planted herself on the coffee table and looked at me. “Do you want to try to get up to your bed?”

  “No,” I admitted, then gr
itted my teeth and dropped my feet to the floor.

  The pain exploded through me, and I had to breathe through it in order not to pass out.

  Damn, I was such a pussy.

  Getting up, I put one foot in front of the other, getting to the stairs by sheer force of will.

  By the time I made it to my bedroom, I was winded, there was a thick sheen of sweat on me as if I’d just busted out five hundred double unders, and my bed looked so inviting that I wanted to crash face-first into it.

  “You gonna make it?” she asked, looking at me worriedly.

  I swallowed past the bile and nodded, making my way to the bathroom where I relieved myself, brushed my teeth, and headed for bed.

  She had already turned down my comforter for me like a damn maid.

  Little did she know that I slept on top of the damn thing because I was a lazy motherfucker.

  “What’s that look for?” she asked curiously, her eyes on me.

  I shuffled painfully to the bed, turned around, and sat down.

  The movement made little white dots dance in my vision.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  I swallowed hard.

  “Yes,” I croaked. “Dandy.”

  “You don’t look okay,” she surmised.

  “I’ll be okay,” I admitted. “I just need to sit here for a second.”

  She waited.

  “I’m going to go let your dog out. When I get back, I’ll help you lay down.”

  I gave her a weak thumb up and heard her call Lion.

  Lion, who’d been somewhere near the stairs, did her normal tumble run down them, causing her to laugh at her antics.

  I, on the other hand, started to work my sweatpants off my hips.

  When I got them down around my ankles, I kicked them off and then slowly pulled the sheet up over my body.

  Once all the naked bits were covered, I tried to reach for a pillow and failed to reach it.

  I twisted, trying to get myself more fully into bed, and missed all over again.

  “Son of a bitch,” I grumbled.

  “I’ll get it.”

  I looked up and found her shoeless in my bedroom.

  I wasn’t sure why the sight of her without shoes hit me so hard, but all of a sudden, I had a wave of possessiveness wash over me at the idea of her being in my home. Looking comfortable.

  She helped me into the bed the rest of the way, slowly pushing me until I’d gotten where I wanted to go, and then slowly took her hands off of me.