Doin' a Dime

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  The guy’s face blanched, then his eyes rolled down the length of Hunt’s body, settling on the orange jumpsuit that was puddled on the floor of the car that he could now see through the open door.

  “Yeah, that’s exactly what it looks like,” he said. “So, I’m sorry if you’re delicate and can’t handle seeing a male body—which might I point out was not naked—but seriously, I needed to get the fuck out of those clothes.”

  The guy backed away slowly.

  Then, once he was far enough away he deemed himself safe, he tucked tail and ran back around to the other side of the van.

  I grinned and tucked my chin, getting back into the car.

  When Hunt turned around and faced me a few seconds later, fully clothed in the clothing that I’d picked out, he was not happy.

  “Listen,” he said softly. “I’ve got a temper. I really, really don’t want to snap at you. Because you’re very nice and you’ve been doing me a favor all these years. But don’t put yourself in harm’s way. Please. That’s all that I ask.”

  I side-eyed him.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I just didn’t want you to wind up right back where you started.”

  He blew out a breath, then started the car back up and put it into gear.

  Once he was in a good spot, the two of us walked back into Target together.

  Not holding hands, but definitely close enough that we could if we wanted to.

  “Now, show me where you found the clothes. I’m going to need more of them, and an idea of what size I am now so I can order some online when I get back home,” he urged.

  I did take his hand then, but only long enough to lead him in the correct direction before dropping it again.

  “This way.”

  I didn’t know what I expected, but I hadn’t thought that he would buy everything in the store.

  I mean, I knew that he’d gone in there for clothes.

  What I hadn’t expected was that he’d buy everything that he could get his hands on.

  It started with just clothes.

  And at one point, when I realized that we wouldn’t be able to carry it all, I’d stolen a cart that was filled with underwear, placed all the underwear on the ground beside the rack, and then hustled it over to where Hunt was buying out the place.

  From there he moved to the baby aisle where he picked up baby lotion—why, I wasn’t sure, but I was too afraid to ask. Or maybe too embarrassed.

  Whatever.

  He put that in his cart.

  Then he moved to the electronics section where he grabbed some wireless headphones.

  Then he kept moving until he got to the toys. Or, more particularly, a Lego end cap that had a shit ton of massive Star Wars builds that cost four hundred dollars.

  One of those went into the cart.

  Then we moved to the food section where he really went wild.

  M&M’s, Oreos, animal crackers, Dr. Pepper, Lay’s potato chips. On and on he went, only stopping when he got to the cold aisles.

  From there he moved onto the dog section where he got what amounted to half a year’s supply of pig ears for his dogs.

  Then we were back to the front of the store and eyeing the Little Debbie spring-themed butterfly rolls.

  “Why are you hesitating now?” I asked curiously. “You’ve literally bought out half the store.”

  He moved the cart up to the shelf and then swept every single box that they had into the cart.

  It filled the cart to heaping.

  “You’re right,” he agreed. “I’m just… all of this looks good. I used to be a pretty healthy eater, refusing to be one of those gaming nerds that ruins their bodies with bad food. But Jesus, I’ve missed all the ‘bad’ food that I haven’t been able to have. Then again, I’ve missed the good food, too. What I wouldn’t do for a nice juicy steak.”

  I grinned at his words.

  “Then I can help you there, at least,” I said. “I’ve found the most perfect way to cook in the world. It’s called a Sous Vide.” He started us toward the checkout counter and started to unload his spoils while I explained. “You season and seal the steaks into a BPA-free plastic bag. Then you dip it into this tub of water and leave it there for two hours or so while the water heats up to the perfect degree that you want to cook your steak to—medium rare, rare, whatever. When it’s done, you pull the steaks from the bag and sear them on a cast iron skillet. They’re seriously the most to-die-for thing I’ve ever had. And so easy to do.”

  He looked at me with interest. “Then I accept you cooking dinner for us tonight.”

  My lips quirked.

  After ringing us up and using my debit card to pay—holy hell, I’d never spent eight hundred dollars on a bunch of random crap before—we headed back to the car.

  Then to Whataburger which was practically across the street.

  When we got inside, Hunt started to mumble under his breath.

  “What?” I asked, not able to hear him.

  He turned and bumped me slightly with his shoulder, causing me to teeter slightly because I hadn’t been expecting the move.

  He caught me around the shoulder and pulled me into his side.

  I expected him to let me go, but he didn’t.

  He kept me with him, snug to his side, with his arm around my shoulders, as he continued to stare at the board. “I’m trying to decide if I should get two meals or one. For myself. You have to order whatever you want.”

  My lips turned up at the corners. “I’d say two. I mean, what’s it going to hurt if you don’t finish it?”

  He squeezed my shoulder, his head nodding in agreement. “You’re right. If I don’t finish, I can throw it away. If I only got one, then I would want more and then I’d have to wait for the order to arrive.”

  After placing our order, we sat down in a booth that was decorated with football memorabilia from the local high school.

  And, of course, my eyes went there instead of staring at the man in front of me.

  The man that was my husband.

  The man that was to-die-for hot, had a voice like sin, and was hard around all of his edges.

  My husband.

  Holy shit.

  The last couple of years it had been fairly easy to ignore that fact. I mean, other than around tax season when I had to file taxes—mine and his—I hadn’t really given it much thought.

  Because giving it too much thought meant that I had to actually admit that I was married.

  That I’d done something rash that had actually helped save me.

  Hell, even my own best friend didn’t know the details to what was going on.

  I’d kept it all hidden, and, in fact, would likely keep it that way for as long as I could.

  Though, with Hunt being home, that meant that today was my last day in his house.

  I’d have to go find somewhere to stay.

  Maybe I could stay at Six’s place since she’d started staying with her new man.

  That would…

  “Were you a cheerleader in high school or anything?” he asked, momentarily disrupting my thoughts.

  I shook my head. “I was in private school. And I was not permitted to do extracurricular activities thanks to my aunt.”

  He frowned. “What’s going on with your aunt by the way? I haven’t gotten an update in a couple of months.”

  “That’s because we’re at a stalemate. She won the case that would give her a chance to prove that she was entitled to half that money. But then I won one just after that when I explained what she’d done with the money—that information you found on her before you left has come in right handy. She keeps appealing it and making us go to a different court. Then she stalls. Then she comes up with new evidence. Then she stalls some more. I seriously think she’s just hoping that I give up and let her have half because I’m getting pissed that it’s taking so long,” I mumbled darkly, hating the reminder that my aunt was a supreme bitch.

  “But you won’t,” he sa
id. “I’ll make sure that you won’t.”

  I grinned at him. “I appreciate that.”

  Then there was no more talking because the man in front of me was given his food, and he inhaled it like it was going to be taken away from him at any moment.

  In fact, I was barely a quarter of the way through my single burger and fries when he finished off the second hamburger. By the time that I finished off my food, he’d been done for ten minutes.

  “You eat really fast,” I found myself saying.

  His eyes colored to something darker. “Had to eat fast in there. Didn’t know from day to day whether there’d be a riot to make you not eat for a day. Or a fight that had them messing up your food. Or even a man that tried to act badass and take it straight out from under you. I learned to eat fast. Everybody did.”

  I hated that for him.

  But, not knowing what to say to that, I chose to clean up our trash.

  He helped, and soon we were once again heading out of the store.

  “Where to now?” I asked.

  He didn’t answer at first, his eyes going around the parking lot as we made our way outside.

  “Google barber shops,” he ordered.

  I did and found one that was close.

  When we arrived, it was to see a line of people waiting to get done.

  “Fuck,” he grumbled darkly.

  I looked over at him in concern.

  “Here,” I said, handing him my phone. “You can play on this while you wait. I’ll read my paperback that I got at the grocery store yesterday.”

  After he took it, I twisted around in my seat and searched through the bags that I’d left in the car because I was too lazy to haul them inside.

  Finding my book, I twisted back around into my seat before saying, “Let me go check you in. Then I’ll wait in the car with you.”

  Then I was gone, unaware that he had his eyes glued to my ass the entire time. Or that I’d given him a show.

  After checking him in, I went back to the car and sat on the hood, waiting to hear Hunt’s name be called.

  It was only twenty minutes later, when he was finally able to get into a chair, that I realized that I had a problem.

  He was sauntering toward the seat that the barber had indicated, and my eyes were on his ass.

  The plain gray sweatpants that I’d bought him fit him like a glove, and the shirt was almost a little too snug.

  They clung to him in all the right places, and the only thing stopping me from going over the edge had been his rough appearance.

  But, as the barber sat Hunt down in his chair and started to clean him up, I realized that with each inch of hair that they cut off, the more appealing he became to me.

  I mean, don’t get me wrong. All scruffy and rough looking, he was attractive as hell.

  But him with a trim haircut, clean beard, and overall sexy appearance?

  It was my undoing.

  I was nearly squirming in my seat when the final product was unveiled.

  “The beard, too,” Hunt said when the barber went to unbutton the cape around him. “Not all the way off, but cleaned up. Professional looking.”

  Dear God.

  What was he doing to me?

  Over the last few years that I’d been visiting him, the beard had gotten progressively longer and longer. Unkempt. Making him appear rough around the edges.

  And I’d only thought that I had a thing for the beard and the long hair. A ‘he’s bad’ vibe wafted off of him every time I’d watched him walk into the visiting room at the prison.

  But when the barber whipped the cape off ten minutes later, his hair now pristinely cut in a medium fade, longer on top and fading to a buzz down the sides of his head, my heart was pounding.

  And then he turned around and looked at me.

  Almost as if he was making sure I was still there.

  That’s when I saw his beard.

  It took my breath away.

  Why?

  Because I could see his lips.

  Plush, kissable, I want them wrapped around certain parts of my anatomy lips.

  I felt my face heat, and to cover up the embarrassment of where my mind was at, I stood up stiffly and started walking toward the two of them, my hand in my purse to withdraw my wallet.

  The bank company was going to be calling soon to make sure that I was all right.

  I’d never spent this much money—especially not in one afternoon.

  I smiled and focused my eyes on the barber instead of looking at Hunt, feeling that he was a safer target than the man standing quietly beside him.

  “Hi,” I chirped as I gave him my card.

  The barber took it and winked, a small quirk to his lips as he pulled out his phone and started to punch my credit card number into an app.

  After he handed it to me, and I clicked a thirty percent tip—because oh my God, had he done some amazing things with Hunt—I finally looked over at Hunt full-on.

  His eyes were on me.

  And they felt like they were lasering into my brain.

  I squirmed at his intense scrutiny.

  “What’s up?” I asked, so glad that female attraction didn’t present the same way as male attraction did. “Everything okay?”

  He nodded once.

  “Thanks for the cut, man,” he said as he held out his fist.

  The man bumped Hunt’s fist with his, and then we were once again walking together side by side to the car.

  “Anywhere else you want to stop on the way home?” I asked as we got into the car.

  His eyes came over to me.

  “No.”

  CHAPTER 8

  God tried to make me pretty, but the R didn’t take.

  -Text from Wyett to Hunt

  HUNT

  The woman was so hard to fucking read.

  I’m talking, I couldn’t figure out one single thing that she was thinking about because she was so closed up with her emotions as well as her words.

  It was like looking at a blank mask and trying to figure out what was wrong.

  I knew something was wrong, too.

  The closer we got to my place, the stiffer in her seat she became.

  It was starting to worry me at this point because I wasn’t sure if it was because there was something there she didn’t want me to see or know about, or because there was something wrong with her.

  It was as we were pulling into the garage and getting out that she finally gave me some semblance of an idea of what she was feeling.

  “I, uh, didn’t clean up,” she admitted. “I didn’t know you were coming home, and the place is a bit of a mess.”

  My brows rose.

  “You are a mess?” I asked curiously.

  She shrugged. “I’m a bit of one.”

  Her idea of ‘a bit’ and my idea of ‘a bit’ were completely different.

  The moment we walked into the door of my place, I realized what she meant.

  She was a slob.

  Not in a ‘there’s a roach problem now’ kind of way. But in an ‘I can’t seem to make it to the room to throw my clothes into the hamper’ kind of way.

  She had stray shoes all over the floor by the door. And just a little bit farther into the living room where the evidence that she also didn’t wear her pants very long once she crossed over the threshold.

  She flushed and started to pick up her shoes, then her pants.

  I looked over at the coffee table to find it piled high with paperbacks.

  Paperbacks that had photos of half-naked men and women on the covers.

  I grinned and turned at the sound of claws clicking on the hardwood floor.

  That’s when I saw my babies hurtling toward us.

  Or, more importantly, Wyett.

  But they stopped midway when they realized she wasn’t alone and gave a menacing growl when they saw me.

  I stepped forward and whistled.

  A whistle that I used when I was trying to get their attention.r />
  A whistle that they hadn’t heard in over three years.

  They both quirked their head to the side and crept forward, their doggy confusion almost adorable.

  Though Wyett had given me regular updates and shown me photos, nothing could compare to seeing them in real life.

  “Silo, Bones,” I said softly, dropping down onto my knees in the middle of the living room floor. Right next to one of Wyett’s high-heeled shoes. “Come here, Silosama. Come here, Bonessama.”

  “What does sama mean?” Wyett asked curiously.

  I was about to answer her when Silo got close enough to sniff me.

  Then she pounced.

  She hit me like a battering ram, taking me down onto my ass, then farther down onto my back as she licked and barked and yipped at me.

  She’d gotten older over the years. Her hair wasn’t nearly as sleek and black, and instead now looked like it was silvering gray.

  Bones, who’d been cautious up to this point, got closer and closer until he was lying on the ground next to me, waiting for his turn.

  Just like he’d always done.

  He’d always been the gentleman.

  “Sit, Silosama,” I urged as I caught her in a bear hug and tugged her to my side.

  That’s when Bones was done waiting.

  With a giant leap, he was burying his nose into my neck and whimpering with excitement.

  I laughed at them, so happy I could burst.

  I’d missed them the most when I’d been inside.

  I’d gotten the two of them as puppies.

  They’d been three weeks old, and their mother had died from a strange heart condition that’d taken everybody by surprise.

  I’d already chosen Bones. But, when the mom had perished, I’d gone to get Bones and had seen the runt—Silo—hadn’t been faring as well as the other pups.

  She’d been lethargic and so sad looking that I’d taken them both home with me instead of just the one.

  And I’d bottle fed them every eight hours for the next few weeks until they’d gotten the eating food thing down on their own.

  Needless to say, it’d been a hard transition, I was sure, for all of us.

  When the dogs finally calmed down enough for me to see anything other than them, I realized that the room around me had been picked up.