River’s face goes from relaxed to defensive in seconds.
“Fuck no, I was giving you advice.”
“It didn’t sound like advice, I’m pretty sure it was an insult.” I know my face is all sticky and my hairline too.
Also, I probably look like a sick freckled tomato, but I still scowl at him.
River’s blue eyes narrow as his teeth lock, his jaw flexing in obvious irritation. Hah, it looks like his true nature is coming out to play. Too bad I got no time for games. I’m about to say just that when he bellows,
“Why would I insult her when I agreed to build her a fuckin’ treehouse that’s going to put me back a coupla grand? I didn’t come here to listen to your bitchin’ Hannah.”
“You did what?” I know I’m screeching, and Ms. Drew is going to come outside and explain to me again the ‘correct’ behavior of a good Christian woman.
Thing is, right now, I’m livid.
Who the hell is this guy to think he can just promise my daughter a freaking treehouse without even consulting me?
He crosses his big beefy arms over his broad chest and leans on the middle part of his blue and black motorcycle. Something works behind his cold depths that stay directed straight on me.
“Don’t bitch about the treehouse, ’cause I’m doing it. I said I will, and I don’t lie to kids.”
I think this over as my left arm burns from the sun’s hot rays.
I was going to give him shit, but his reasons are good ones. I’m a single mother. There is no way I’ll ever be able to afford a treehouse, especially now with a mortgage that’s much higher than the rent I was paying before.
I didn’t get into Harvard for being a pretty face. I know a good thing when I see it.
And a treehouse for my kid, is something Jo has wanted forever.
I would never be able to give her that. This a great thing.
“Fine, if you want to spend your money on my kid, I’m not stopping you, knock yourself out, and I mean really KNOCK yourself out.”
He stands there in front of me so quiet and still, that I begin to squirm with how uncomfortable and flushed I feel with this man’s heated attention directed only on me.
“Go out with me.”
“What?!” I yelp barely missing a beat.
“Go out with me.” He repeats his statement, tense shoulders belying his casual pose.
“Seriously, What?” My mouth gaps open, and I’m positive I resemble some animal that just realizes it’s been trapped in big bright headlights.
He killed Grogg, insulted Jo, then bribed her with a treehouse, which I’m not complaining about, yes, but I’m not thrilled about either, far from it.
I would never be able to give her that, and I know he knows that, but still, he expects me to just go on a date with him? Is the guy a wacko?
“Yup.” I’m startled by the sound of the deep and smooth voice coming from the biker that was across the road a minute ago.
He has somehow managed to stroll over to retake his place without me knowing.
And judging by his word, also now fully aware that I just called River a wacko, loud.
I don’t retract it when the quiet one confirms the obvious. River, my new neighbor, is crazy.
I’m going to be living next to a crazy person. A hot and sexy crazy male who wants to go out with me.
My focus switches to the young silent biker. Dressed in the clubs biker jacket that isn’t sleeveless like the one River is wearing nor is it filled with numerous badges, he is a sight for eyes.
He has only one with a single word written, SOLDIER. I drop my vision, but not before I notice the perfect, clean-shaven angles of his face or the length of his neck. His leather pants are new and fit him perfectly, hinting at the lean muscle behind his clothing.
“Stop checking Killer out when I’m standing right here.” My eyes snap back to the big and imposing River.
The hint of irritation in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed.
“Who voted you so important to think that I give a dime that you’re standing right there or even consider going out with you? No one that’s who, you wanna know why?”
His lips twitch, thinning as he shakes his head in the negative.
“Well, I’ll tell you anyway, it’s because you and I in the same sentence are never going to happen,” I inform him of this even though I know that I want it to.
River’s neck extends, head bent slightly to the left, tilted away from the sun. The long column of his exposed throat now on full display. I know I shouldn’t like the biker. He’s more trouble than humble, but dammit, he is a fine piece of meat.
I would never call him gorgeous ’cause he and that ship never met, but I would put him in the V. I. P of the bad boy cruiseline. I’ve never had dangerous before.