My Little Gypsy

by Brooke St. James

  "I know," I said. "And I'm not scared or reluctant about any part of it. I've watched a couple of YouTube videos about how you take it off and put it on. I'll help you with it if you ever need me to."

  His chest expanded as he took a deep, unexpected breath, and I saw his eyes begin to water as he stared at me with a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

  "I'm sorry if that's weird," I said. "I only searched it out because I wanted to know what you have to do to get it on, and…"

  "Darcy."

  "What?"

  "It's not weird."

  "Good," I said weakly. "I wanted to bring it up, but I'd be mad at myself if I made you feel awkward."

  "Awkward, Darcy, is not at all the word I would use to describe how I'm feeling right now."

  Chapter 10

  "How would you describe how you're feeling?" I asked.

  I could tell by the way Owen looked at my mouth that he wanted to kiss me, and I asked the question hoping that he would answer by doing so.

  It was dark out, but we were parked close enough to the building that lights shone down on us. He stared at me like he was about to do it, but then he reluctantly broke eye contact and glanced around, taking in our surroundings.

  "I don't know that anyone's staring at the monitors right now," he said. "But I do know there are about three cameras pointed at us."

  "Really?" I asked, looking around.

  I glanced at him and he smiled. "Yes, really," he said. "I know those guys, and I don't think anyone would sit there and watch us on purpose, but I also know for a fact we don't have much privacy right now."

  "That kind of stinks," I said, wrinkling my nose.

  "That's not the only thing that stinks," he said.

  I knew he was referring to himself, and I squinted at him. "You don't stink," I said.

  "But I'd smell better after a shower," he said.

  "I think you're inviting me to your house right now," I said.

  He grinned. "You do?"

  I nodded.

  "You're pretty perceptive," he said.

  I shrugged confidently, and he let out a little laugh as he gave me a pat, telling me to get going to my car and stop wasting time. I smiled and took my purse from the seat from his truck before jogging to my car.

  I followed Owen to his house, feeling like I was on top of the world. I blasted the radio. My roommate in college was a huge Justin Bieber fan, and she played his music all the time. One of his songs called As Long As You Love Me was playing on the radio, and I sang along with it, smiling and dancing and not even caring that I was getting half of the lyrics wrong.

  As long as you love me,

  We could be starvin',

  We could be hmm, hmm,

  We could be broke.

  As long as you love me,

  hmm, hmm, hmm, platinum,

  hmm, hmm, hmm, silver,

  hmm, hmm, hmm, gold.

  I sang it out, drifting along on cloud nine as I followed Owen to his house. I could not wipe the smile off of my face. I knew that Owen Bishop had feelings for me, and it left me with an indescribable feeling of elation.

  I had never been to Owen's house. He had bought it a couple of years ago while I was in New York. I knew roughly where it was because he had described it to me over the phone, but I had never seen it. It was in an older neighborhood with mature trees that lined the street.

  I pictured it like his parents' house, so I was somewhat surprised when we pulled into the driveway and I realized the houses were so close together. It was a nice neighborhood, but his neighbors were no more than thirty feet away. I might not have noticed it so much, but the man who lived next door happened to be standing outside, and he hollered at Owen from his garage. He introduced himself to me as Phil and said his wife and two kids were in the house. We talked to him for a minute before going inside.

  I knew Owen had a dog, but with the excitement of meeting Phil and everything, I had forgotten to expect a furry friend when we came inside. I wasn't normally wary of dogs, but Henry was a striking-looking creature that made me feel somewhat guarded. He was bigger than I had imagined, too. He gave two barks when we first came inside, but came right up to me with his tail wagging like crazy.

  I was amazed by his appearance. Owen had described him to me and even sent me a picture of his face, but nothing could prepare me for his looks. He honestly reminded me of a tiger, or a hyena, or some mixture of the two. He was about the size of a large boxer and had the same build and the same length of coat, but it was a type of brindle I had never seen before—he had stripes of tan and black and his face was smooth and square jawed, similar to that of a sleek-looking pit bull.

  "Henryyy," I said, stooping down to pat him on the back in spite of the fact that I was slightly intimidated.

  Henry was so excited that his tail was wagging in circles and his front paws kept coming off the ground as he jumped back and fourth from Owen to me, trying to get every ounce of attention. I bent down to give him a belly rub, and he nestled into my embrace, sitting down directly on my feet and pressing his back against my legs as if holding me in place. He stared up at me, soaking in all the love I was willing to give.

  This maneuver made me glance at Owen with wide eyes. "He's so sweet," I said.

  Owen smiled and nodded. "He's a lover."

  "He looks like a tiger."

  Owen let out a laugh. "You're not the first person who's told me that."

  "What kind of dog is he?"

  Owen shrugged. "One of our customers found him as a stray and brought him up to the shop asking if any of us wanted him."

  I continued to scratch Henry, who luxuriated shamelessly as he continued to sit directly on my feet.

  Owen turned on lights and went into his kitchen, taking two glasses out of the cabinet. He opened his fridge, and that was enough to get Henry off of my feet. He sprang up and ran to Owen's side, hoping the open fridge meant he was getting something to eat.

  "All I have is water, juice, or milk," Owen said, peering around the door at me and not paying the slightest bit of attention to Henry.

  "Water, please," I said, coming to stand closer to him.

  He closed the fridge door and used the ice and water dispenser in the door to make us each a glass. He opened the nearby pantry. "Protein bar?" he asked.

  I shook my head even though I was starving and should have probably taken him up on it. He opened one for himself and ate about half of it in one bite before leaning over to pet Henry. "Just dig in the pantry if you change your mind," Owen said. "I'm gonna let Henry out while I get cleaned up. Make yourself at home. I'll only be a few minutes."

  I nodded still feeling nervous and giddy. I took a sip of my ice water in an effort to look casual. "I like your pictures," I said, pointing at all of the family pictures that were stuck to the side of his fridge.

  "That's my mom's doing. She makes magnets out of them and brings them over here for me."

  I stared at them while Owen let Henry out. "I can't believe Wes is in London," I said, looking at the photo of his little brother in front of Big Ben.

  "I can," Owen said. "He used to speak with an English accent for no reason when we were kids. He's always been intrigued by England."

  I was still scanning the photos when Owen said he would be right back. He disappeared down the hallway and one of the first things I did was take him up on the offer to eat one of his protein bars. I reached into his pantry and got myself one, feeling thankful that he had offered.

  I had barely finished it when Henry came to the glass door and tilted his head at me like he expected me to go over there and let him in. I didn't do it right away because I wasn't sure Owen would want me to, but Henry just kept looking at me and tilting his head from side to side. He finally got tired of waiting and gave a bark. I smiled at him as I walked over and opened the sliding door. Henry was indeed a lover who made me feel right at home in Owen's house. He followed me into the living room, and I sat on the floor in front of t
he couch because I knew he would cuddle up next to me.

  We were in that position when Owen came down the hall. His hair was still damp and he was wearing dark, fitted sweatpants and a gray and white T-shirt that hugged every curve of his chest. He came to stand in front of me, smiling and shaking his head at the fact that Henry had his head on my lap. "You're spoiling him already," he said.

  "He's spoiling me," I said smiling.

  Owen put his hand out to help me up, and without hesitation, I put my hand in his. He pulled me to my feet, and in one swift motion, he fell onto the couch, positioning me in the spot next to him. His arm was around me, and I curled up beside him like it was something we had done a thousand times.

  "You smell sooooo good," I said. My face was right next to his shoulder near the front of his chest, and I took in a huge whiff of the amazing, manly smell.

  "I told you I was stinky," he said, laughing a little.

  "You weren't stinky," I said. "It's just that now you smell super-extra good."

  He put his arm around my shoulders, holding me close.

  "I ate one of your power bars," I said.

  "Good," he said.

  "Not really," I said, making a face. "It tasted like chalk."

  He let out another laugh, causing his chest to move. I buried my face in his chest and squeezed him tighter, wanting to never ever let him go. Henry had been content sitting at Owen's feet, but he popped up curiously, putting his front paws on the couch next to us. Owen made a deep, disapproving sound in his chest, and Henry jumped down instantly. I took up for the dog with a little moan, but secretly I loved that he was well trained, and more than that, I loved the sound of Owen's deep voice next to my ear. I tilted my head to stare up at Owen, and he glanced down at me.

  "I waited for you," I said. "I waited for this."

  "I waited, too," he said. "For a long time."

  "Seems like forever," I said. "So long that it doesn't seem real—like it can't be true."

  "But it is true," he said.

  "It is?"

  I was sitting so close to him that we were pressed up against each other. He had his arm wrapped around me, and I felt ever so grateful for the contact. We sat there and stared at each other for a long time. I honestly didn't know what he was thinking. For me, it was heaven. Since we were kids, I had dreamed about being Owen's girl. And there I was, sitting on his couch while he held me in his arms. He smelled clean and masculine, and I sat there, tracing the lines of his face, feeling like they had always been etched into my mind. He gave me a little grin, and I watched the indention form at the corner of his mouth. It was like I was in a dream.

  "I'm not sure what your dad would think about us," he said.

  He spoke quietly, and I was daydreaming, so it took me a second to realize what he was saying.

  "I'm not sure what your dad would say, either," I said softly.

  Owen and I had never discussed the possibility that a disagreement had occurred between our families, but my parents had been somewhat reluctant to mention the Bishops over the years, so I deduced long ago that there might have been some tension between them. I hated that because I loved my parents and I thought the Bishops were really nice people. Honestly, I never had a problem ignoring it… until now. I didn't even feel like Owen was officially mine yet, and I was already terrified of something coming between us.

  He must have seen that faraway look in my eyes as I thought about it because he gave me a reassuring smile. "Darcy, it's all gonna work out."

  Chapter 11

  We sat on Owen's couch for the next two hours, talking about everything and nothing. We talked a lot about things that had happened to us during the last four years while I'd been in New York. I told him about my friends and roommates, and that led us to a conversation about his work at the family motorcycle business. I had a lot of questions about the process of building them, and he gave me in depth, knowledgeable answers that made me feel proud of him.

  He elaborated on his day-to-day, which was really interesting because, between building motorcycles and running the business side of it, he was always doing something different. I had graduated with a degree in marketing, and we talked a little about things I could possibly do in the future to help them out. His mom was into that side of it, and he ended up talking a lot about her. I had met her before, but only briefly, and I really looked forward to getting to know her.

  After we'd been talking for a while, Owen mentioned that he wanted to take me for a motorcycle ride, and I easily agreed, saying that I had only done it once before. He must have assumed I had never ridden one, because he acted surprised and seemed really interested in getting the whole the story about my previous experience.

  I told him a friend of mine from college named Brian had one and he took me on a ride into the mountains one time during my junior year, which was the truth. Owen grimaced when I told him that. He hated that story, and I loved that he hated it. I giggled at the way his face contorted when I said we had gone into the mountains.

  "What were you doing getting on the back of some guy's motorcycle?" he asked.

  I continued to giggle and shake my head at him. "He asked me to," I said. "He was just my friend."

  "He didn't want to be your friend," Owen said, sounding sure of himself like he knew Brian's motives.

  I absolutely loved that he was jealous over me. I reached up and put my hand on the side of his face. We had been sitting there talking for a long time. I was right next to him but we hadn't made that sort of intimate contact, and it gave me all kinds of warm and fuzzy feelings to reach out and touch his face.

  I cupped his cheek and jaw in my hand. He seemed big to me—like he was larger than life. I held his face in my palm, marveling at how perfect he was. I couldn't help but feel like I had arrived at some pinnacle or reached some sort major life goal. I ran my thumb along his jaw, marveling at the way his short facial hair moved and shifted under my touch.

  It felt wonderful getting home and seeing the new house my parents had built me. It was a brand-new, beautiful, flawless piece of construction, and I really loved it. Oddly, I had that same sort of possessive feeling about Owen—like he was something that I had newly acquired and I was just getting to check him out… only I loved him so very much more than a house—infinitely more.

  "What are you thinking?" he asked, watching me stare at him as I had that whole chain of thoughts.

  "That I love how you look. I love it way more than my new house."

  He let out a little laugh at that, and I watched as his face shifted. My hand was still on his cheek, and I soaked in the sensation of how I could feel it move when he smiled. His teeth showed, and I caught myself staring at them.

  "Darcy," he whispered.

  "Huh?"

  "You're staring at my mouth."

  "Huh? What? I know. I am. I can't help it."

  "You better stop," he said.

  This made me glance at his eyes, which squinted as he grinned.

  "Why?" I asked.

  "Because."

  "Because why?" I whispered stubbornly.

  Again I stared straight at his lips, and this time, I slid my fingertips over there and touched the top rim of his mouth, gently tracing the curve.

  "Ohhhhh my gosh… Darcy, I, uh, hang on for a second."

  He adjusted, pulling back and slipping out of my grasp. This caused me to stare at him with a questioning expression.

  "Okay, here's what's got to happen," he said. He slid out from under me, standing up before turning to offer me a hand. Henry had been resting at our feet, but he, too, stood up and stretched. I was totally confused and maybe a little hurt. I knew what was about to happen between us, and it made me feel disappointed that Owen stopped it. I gave him my hand and he pulled me up, holding onto me by the waist once I was standing.

  "It's getting late," he said. "And honestly, if I do what I want to do right now, I don't know if I'll be able to… " He hesitated, looking away before staring at me aga
in. He held onto me, staring at me as if searching for the right words. "Darcy, I've wanted you for so long that I'm honestly not sure I can trust myself to be a gentleman right now. I really hate to do it, but I think if I do what I want to do, we need to be somewhere… uhhh, I need to be somewhere not so couch-like."

  "I have no idea what you're saying right now, Owen," I said, still feeling like he was leaving me hanging.

  "I'm saying I'm going to walk you to your car and say goodnight before I kiss you, Darcy, because if I do it right here on this comfortable couch, I don't think I'll be able to stop with a kiss. I have wanted you for so long that I just don't know if I can trust myself." He looked down at his own arms and flexed his muscles as if demonstrating his power. "I haven't even kissed you yet, and already I feel like I might turn into some kind of beast and just ravage you right here on my couch."

  I knew he was seriously concerned, and I could barely get a good breath of air into my lungs at the thought of being ravaged by Owen Bishop. I stretched up and put my mouth right next to his ear. He saw what I was trying to do, so he leaned down to help me reach it.

  "Owen," I whispered his name right into his ear, and he squeezed me by the waist.

  "What?" he asked when I didn't continue.

  "I've wanted you that long, too."

  His hand balled into a fist—I could tell because he was holding the back of my shirt and I could feel him squeeze the fabric. He let out a frustrated groan, and the next thing I knew, he bent down and hoisted me over his shoulder. I let out a yelp because that was the last thing I expected him to do, and my cry caused Henry to give a couple of excited barks. Owen held me securely by the back of my legs as he moved with long strides across his living room.

  He opened the door to go outside, and I said, "My shoes!" I was laughing, and my head was behind his back, so he had to ask me to repeat myself. "My shoes!" I yelled, still cracking up. "And my purse!"