He didn’t need to twist my arm. The moment I heard the invitation, I mentally printed a map, ordered bright orange fluorescent vests, and malaria-fight-worthy bug spray. Still, I went through a big production of reluctance just to seal the deal. “A few more things. Will we have separate bedrooms?”
“Sure.”
“And, it’s just one night?”
“Yep.”
Separate bedrooms. One night. My odds of escaping with my sexual composure intact rose. “Can I bring Mr. Oinks?”
“Hell no.”
I scrunched up my face, then let out a long and dramatic sigh. “Fine. But this is definitely not a date. Work trip only.”
“Not a date,” he repeated solemnly. “Work trip only.” Then he smiled and it was a good thing I was a stone-cold pro. Because this man? He was deadly.
27
“I don’t like this.” Roger stood in his driveway, his arms over his chest, and watched me lug his cooler out of the garage.
“For Pete’s sake, will you help her with that?” Ansley barked from the front porch, Caleb in her arms.
“We don’t even know this guy.” Roger came around the other side and lifted the handle, the cumbersome job suddenly easy. “What if he’s taking you out into the woods to rape and kill you?”
“He’s not going to rape and kill her, Roger. He already had sex with her!” Ansley’s voice, meant to carry across the impatiens and to our spot by the mailbox, was also easily heard by every house in a block radius. Roger glared at her and I stifled a laugh.
“It’s true,” I whispered. “He did have sex with me.”
“Good sex,” Ansley added, strolling down the sidewalk and brushing crumbs off Caleb’s mouth. “Lots of orgasms.”
Roger colored, and pushed the glasses up higher on his nose with precision. “He could still kill her.”
“It’s true,” I agreed. “He could definitely kill me. If I don’t come back tomorrow by two, call the police.”
“It’s not funny,” Roger said, a bead of sweat dragging down his temple. “What do you really know about him?”
“Ummm… everything?” Ansley said. “You’re being a pain. Go grab the bug zapper and shush.”
His jaw tightened, and we watched as he walked up the driveway and toward the garage, which was a barely-contained pile of every item they had ever owned. Caleb squirmed and Ansley set him down, the stout three-year-old running after his father.
She lowered her voice and leaned into me. “He’s so sexy when he’s being protective.”
I squinted in Roger’s direction, trying to see past his khaki high waters and crisp plaid short-sleeve shirt, then shrugged. “Yeah. I don’t see it.”
“Did you pack condoms?”
“What?” I recoiled. “No.”
“Bacon-flavored lube?”
I glared at her. “I’m going to personally tell Mr. Oinks that you said that.”
“At least tell me you packed sexy panties.”
I pulled up my T-shirt and looped a finger under the elastic of my size-too-big purple cotton granny panties. “Nope.”
“Holy shit, woman. Did I not teach you anything?” She grabbed my arm and started to pull me in the direction of the house. “Come on. I’ve got a Fredricks of Hollywood set that Roger says gives him migraines. It’ll look perfect on you.”
I danced right, ducking behind her. Her arm twisted into an awkward angle, and she cursed, letting go of me. “You aren’t listening. I’m NOT HAVING SEX WITH HIM.”
“It’s true.” The deep voice from behind us scared the crap out of us, and we both screamed in reflex.
I blew out a burst of air at the sight of Declan, headed up the driveway, his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans. Behind him, at the curb, his truck idled. “Jesus, you are sneaky.”
“She might have sex with you,” Ansley offered as a way of greeting. “Don’t let the adamant declarations scare you away from trying.”
“Great,” Roger remarked. “Encouraging aggressive behavior in the face of clear denial. Just what we want to teach predators everywhere.” He tucked the giant yellow tennis racket shaped fly zapper under his arm and puffed out his chest. “I’m Roger. Autumn’s brother.” His voice was suddenly deeper, and when he held out his hand to shake Declan’s, I watched the skinny veins in his forearms pop into action.
“He’s my brother-in-law,” I elaborated, unsure of exactly who Roger thought he was intimidating. I glanced at Ansley, who was absolutely no help, eyeing her husband with a gleam that spoke of ripped-off clothes and raw animal lust.
“Nice to meet you,” Declan said. “Declan Moss. I’ll take good care of Autumn.”
He’ll take good care of me? That’s funny. The man talks on his cell phone while filling his car up with gas. He’s lucky he’d lived to thirty-two without dying already. I poked him in the arm. “My bags are on the porch.”
He glanced past me, his brow furrowing at the sight of the stack, three high and two deep. “We’re just going for a night.”
“Yep. Use your legs when you lift the blue one. It’s heavy.”