As soon as we reach my house I realize my mistake. And not just one mistake. Nope. I made two.
First: Now Chief Cole knows where I live (not that he couldn’t find it out, but I didn’t have to deliver him to my front door with a bow around it).
Second (and much more pressing): My mother’s car is in the driveway. Which means, she is already inside and has started unpacking. Well, that’s one thing in my favor. I can ditch the po- po at the door and she will never know.
But is it that easy?
Of course not.
“Thanks,” I say standing at the door, trying to make it clear that he’s not allowed inside.
“Are you hiding a body in there?” he nods his head towards said door that he is not allowed through.
“No,” I say, somewhat shocked he would even think I was a murderer, especially since we shared a bed just two nights ago!
“I’m kidding, Ree,” he says, a faint smile curving his lips.
The door opens. Both our heads turn. And there stands my mother, a towel over her shoulder.
Kill. Me. Now.
I drop my head back and look above for something to strike me down and just end this miserable day.
“Oh!” she exclaims, “Chief Cole! Come in, come in! The coffee’ hot.”
“Really, Mom, he can’t-,” I begin, but the sneaky bastard cuts me off. He must know how The Mother Desperate to Marry Off Her Last Child’s mind works.
“I would love to, Sandra,” he answers her then looks back to me and smiles. I glare back. His hand slides under the box of rolls, his fingers graze the underside of my breast, causing me to inhale sharply. “Here’s the rolls Azaria got,” he tells my mother stepping into the house with her; leaving me on the deck in stunned silence.
Did he mean to touch me?
Was that deliberate?
It felt deliberate.
It had to have been deliberate. He’s not the kind of guy to just do that. I could have carried them in, but he made a point to slowly… grab for them. Touching my breast. Deliberately. I know it.
“Ree! C’mon!” my mother calls me. I puff out a frustrated breath and walk into the foyer, close the door behind me, and place my purse and shoes in the closet.
I then make my way to the kitchen to continue Ree’s Morning From Hell.
I make it into the kitchen and see Mom putting a cinnamon roll on a plate and handing it to Chief Cole, who is sitting on one of the stools at the island, looking totally at home. I walk to the coffee pot, pour myself a cup, add cream and sugar then turn around and lean against the counter; making sure to have my best scowl on my face as he makes eye contact with me. His shoulders begin to shake with silent laughter, which of course just pisses me off more. My eyes flare and I turn the heat of my glare up so that it should burn him right where he sits.
He shakes his head, smiling and takes a bite of his (correction: my) roll. I keep the glare in place, walk over to the pastry box and place one on a plate for myself. I grab a fork and stand at the counter eating. It’s then that I notice Mom looking back and forth between us with the most hopeful expression on her face, clutching her coffee cup to her chest.
Fuck.
“So, did you two just meet this morning, Chief?” she asks after a few minutes of silence, (trying to be nonchalant, but she so totally is not) looking at him and taking a sip of her coffee.
“Please, call me Grayson,” he says before continuing to answer her.
Grayson Cole. Great fucking name. I actually forgot it, because I tried to push him as far out of my mind as I possibly could. He seemed too good to be true.
Well, I never said I was always right.
It then registers what my mom asked him and I quickly look to him with a panicked expression and shake my head in quick short jerks, hoping to all that his holy and good in the world that he covers for me.
“Actually, Sandra,” he wipes his (so fucking gorgeous) mouth on the napkin my mother gave him, after taking the last bite of the cinnamon roll, and smiles at me. I pull out my best puppy dog eyes and I even mouth ‘please’ to him. He looks back to my mother, “Yes we did.”
I sag against the counter in relief and mouth a silent ‘Thank you’ to him.
“Our Ree is a good girl,” my mother tells him. He looks at me and gives me a wicked grin. (I may not be a genius, but I can read that message loud and clear: I really hope she isn’t that good.)
“Mom,” I say, closing my eyes, trying to force out the images that grin evoked my brain to come up with.
“Well, you are,” she states matter-of-factly. I roll my eyes but don’t say anything else. “She’s able to work from home, which is good, since she had to move back to help me out.”
“Mom…” I don’t like that she thinks I left everything just because of her. I wasn’t obligated.
She ignores me anyway, “So she’ll be around all the time.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I stop her from having a bad case of oral diarrhea. “It’s time for the Chief to get going so we can get to work. I’ll walk you to the door,” I tell him walking by him, really, really hoping that he follows.
I look over my shoulder to see him saying goodbye to my mother and walking towards me. I open the door for him and stand there waiting for him to hurry his ass along and out of my door. He stops when he gets to me and places his hand on my waist.
“You owe me for that back there,” he says quietly, smiling.
“No,” I shake my head at him.
“No?” Still smiling.
“No. You already got me to practically beg you. That’s all the gratification you get.”
“Azaria,” he says and leans down, right in front of my face, “I’ll be back tonight to take you out. And by the end of the night, you’ll be very used to begging me.” My mouth drops open in shock for a moment before I quickly close it back up.
Before I can tell him off for being so forward and thinking that I would sleep with him on the first date (which, of course, I would. But he shouldn’t assume it!), he lowers his mouth to my mine, gently. My eyes flutter back a bit and I take in a deep breath, allowing him to slide his tongue just inside my mouth. My defenses weaken and if he tried to take me to bed right this second there is no way in hell I would turn him away. The kiss is quick, too quick, and he lifts his head back up. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to open up and when they finally do, my eyelids flutter. I am pissed at myself for this on some level, but the emotion is weak and easy to ignore.
“See you, tonight.” And then he walks out of the door.
“Oooeee! That was hot, Ree!” my mother says fanning herself, standing in the doorway to the living room.
“Mom!” I close the door, knowing he probably heard that.
“What? It was!”
“I can’t believe you stood there and watched,” I shake my head at her, walking back down the hall. “C’mon lets have another cinnamon roll and get to work.”
“Okedoke,” she says enthusiastically and follows me back to the kitchen.
After a couple hours, my office is completely done. It was the most important since I need it to work. The internet guy is coming around three today to get me ready to roll, and I can’t wait. I’m hopelessly addicted to the internet. Shameless, really. I spend almost all of my time on there, even when I’m not working, talking to friends around the country and getting the latest updates of everything going on in the world.
I walk out of the office, taking the empty boxes with me and throwing them out into the garage.
“Mom!” I call out. She’s been MIA for the past thirty minutes.
“In here, honey,” she calls back. I walk towards the kitchen and see her pouring us each a glass of iced sweet tea. “I knew you were just setting up your computer in there and since I didn’t know much about how to do that, I figured I would come in here and start on the kitchen.” She puts the pitcher of tea back in the fridge and hands me a glass. “Let’s take a break and go enjoy your new pati
o furniture, okay?” She smiles at me excitedly.
“Okay. Sounds good.” I take a drink of my sweet tea and let out a satisfied breath. “No one can make tea like you,” I tell her.
“I’m glad you enjoy it,” she says stepping out the kitchen door to the patio. We each sit down on the couch and enjoy the breeze on the warm, sunny day for a few minutes of silence, before she asks “How are you doing, Ree?”
“I’m good, Mom,” I answer, watching some birds fight over something in my yard. “I’ve got a good job, good friends, great family, and the best Mom in the whole world,” I say the last bit while looking at her with a big smile.
“You always were such a suck up,” she laughs.
“As if! I am not a suck up!”
“Honey, you are,” she wraps her arm around me and brings my head down on her shoulder, “But it works for you. With the way you always got into trouble, you needed some kind of talent to get out of it,” she laughs.
“Pfft.”
“Luckily, Gert was always on your side,” she says with a smile in her voice. See? Gertrude is the best.
“Yeah, she’s pretty great,” I smile, too.
“So…” she begins and I know exactly where this is headed, “Chief Cole.”
“Mom…” I say with warning, sitting back up and looking at her with raised brows.
“Honey, he’s a really good guy, and very good looking.”
“Yeah,” I pout. I can’t help it. He is freaking hot and that is not going to make this easy. We live in the same small town. It’s damn near impossible to avoid him. It will only end in heartbreak.
For me.
I’ll turn into Crazy Hilda, burning the town down to cinder and ash and everyone will be gossiping about how poor Azaria
Gable couldn’t hack it after the sexy Chief of Police broke her heart. Ugh. No thank you.
“Well, he’s taking you out tonight,” Mom says like this is the best news since her arch nemesis, Rudy Flamingham, left town after being shunned for cheating on the annual Fourth of July Chili Cook-off about six years ago.
“He thinks he’s taking me out tonight,” I correct her.
“What are you going to do, Ree?” she asks, an edge of warning to her voice.
“Nothing crazy. I’m just not going to answer my door.”
“Oh, dear Lord,” she shakes her head. “That’s childish.”
“Well I never said it was going to win the award for Plan of the Year, but he’ll get the message.”
“Honey, why don’t you want to settle down? What is it? Did something happen?” she asks, truly concerned.
“No, Mom,” I say gently, “I just had my heart broken and I didn’t like it. It’s not fun.”
“I know sweetie, but that’s no reason to give up.”
“How do you know? You’ve been with Dad since high school.”
“There was someone before him,” she says shocking the ever- loving-shit out of me.
“What!?”
“Oh relax,” she rolls her eyes at me, “he was a nice boy that I thought was the one. He left me for some tramp and I met your father. I knew as soon as I met him that he was my forever after.”
That’s what my parents always say to each other. All the time growing up they would call each other their forever after’s. It’s pretty nausea-inducing, let me tell ya.
“Well, men are different these days. They don’t want to settle down. They just want someone for a good time; to pass the time until they find a long legged bimbo.”
“Not all men,” she says.
“Yes. All men.”
“Not Grayson. He’s the settling down type.”
“Puh-lease,” I drag the word out, “He’s the epitome of a commitment-phobe. A man that looks that good only wants to keep trading in for younger models.”
“Well, that is an awful thing to think,” she tells me matter-of- factly. “And I think you’re wrong. You’ll see.”
“No. I won’t.”
“Whatever you say darlin’,” she pats my knee and leans back in the cushions. It will do no good to argue with her. She’s so sure that she is right. And she is so not.
ChapterFour
Devil Penis Magic
I sit down at my computer and boot it up. The day went well with Mom after our break. We got the kitchen, bedroom and both downstairs bathrooms done as well as one of the spare rooms. She offered to come back tomorrow, but since there wasn’t much left I told her she didn’t have to.
It’s now six o’clock and I’m sitting down to try to get ahead on a little work for an author friend of mine that wants me to help her come up with some graphics. I just get my program pulled up when the doorbell rings.
I walk out of my office, turn and head to the door. I look out the peephole and see Chief Cole standing there. I immediately duck down, because everyone knows that cops can see through those little holes. It’s some kind of special tactical training they have to go through at the academy.
I, ever… so… quietly, walk backwards down the hall. Then there is a pounding at the door (you know the one I’m talking about. Cop Move 2. The three quick pounds on the door that are able to wake the dead.). I freeze and don’t breathe for a moment. Just in case.
“Ree! Open the damn door!” he says, sounding exasperated.
I continue my mission impossible escape back into my office. My desk faces the front windows, so I covertly move to the side that has the string to close the blinds. I plaster my back against the wall and, slowly, pull on the string. The blinds are on the opposite side from the string, and they are almost all the way to me when a face appears on the other side of the glass next to me.
“Aaaaeeee!” I scream out, hands flailing, ducking down and throwing my hands over my head.
“Ree,” he says seriously; his voice muffled through the glass, “Open the damn door.”
I lift my head and look up at him through the window, “No.” I’m pretty proud of the fact that my voice comes out strong and defiant, despite the fact that I totally freaked out.
“Ree.”
“No!” I stand up and put my hands on my hips. “You can’t make me.” I grab the string and close the blinds the rest of the way, then go back to my desk, sit down and decide to get back to work.
Except it’s kind of hard, knowing he’s just on the other side of the window…
Nope. Back to work.
I bring up a couple pictures and begin to manipulate them. I push away all thoughts of Chief Panty Melter and begin to work diligently. I look at the clock on my computer, after what feels like an hour, and realize it’s only been two minutes. I look back at my double monitors; I haven’t done anything other than stare at the pictures. I can’t freaking concentrate!
Fuck it!
I get up and walk over to the window. I pull the blinds apart and deftly look out.
Hmm.
He’s not there.
I open them further and look all around my front yard. There is no trace of him.
Damn.
I mean, good. Yeah. It’s good news.
“Looking for something?”
“What the fuck!” I scream, spinning around, my hand flying to my chest. Chief Panty Melter is leaning against the wall, arms crossed, smiling at me. “How the hell did you get in here?!” I demand.
He tilts his head back, “Back door was unlocked,” he answers.
“So, you… you just came right in?” I demand, my voice a little weak. Dammit.
“Well,” he raises his brows, looks down at himself and the fact that he is very much in my house, then looks back up at me, “yeah.”
“That’s a B&E and you’re a cop!”
“And?”
“And?” I jerk my head back. “And?” I demand, getting closer to him and in his face, “You can’t just break into someone’s house!” I screech, stomping my feet and holding my fists tight to my sides, arms straight.
He moves quick. Really quick. One second, I’m in his face
yelling, the next he has my back against the wall, his body holding mine in place and his hands resting against the wall on either side of my head.
His eyes roam over my face with an intensity I don’t recognize.
“Fuck,” he says quietly. “Has anyone ever told you how unbelievably sexy you are when you’re mad?”
I blink.
I blink again.
One more time.
Did I just hear him right?
“What?” I breathe out in shock.
“Baby, I’ve never been more turned on than I am at this exact fucking moment.”
“You’re crazy,” my expression turns to bewildered, then mad, “I am not sexy when I’m mad! I’m scary! Men cower in fear and cover their balls when I’m angry,” I inform him.
“You’re a goof,” he smiles at me like this is a loveable trait.
“I am not a goof,” I tell him, matter of factly.
“You are,” he argues and leans his face closer, causing me to pull mine back in the limited space I have, “And you’re sexy when you’re mad.”
“You’re a crazy man,” I tell him with wide eyes.
“Maybe,” he concedes, drops his mouth to mine and…
Oh… my… God.
This kiss is much different. His hands delve into my hair, anchoring my mouth to his, his tongue sweeps into my mouth, and his whole body presses into mine. My legs go completely weak and I grab his arms for something to hold myself up with. He deepens the kiss even more and electricity explodes throughout my body.
This man can kiss.
My hands quickly move up and grasp onto his short hair, pulling him closer to me as my body presses tighter to his. I suppress the urge to wrap my legs around him, but just barely.
He slows the kiss down and pulls his mouth back; his forehead resting against mine.
“Fuck, Ree…” he groans out.
“Yeah,” I agree.
What else is there to say?
That was H-O-T-T, hot.
His eyes open and look into mine, then back down taking in my gray (very short) cotton shorts and my white tank.
“Is this what you’re wearing for our date?” he asks the way wrong thing, his head lifting up and he steps back an inch.
My Coyote Ugly Life Page 5
