He smiles then steps back, leaning against the counter and crossing one bare foot over the other.
“So, um…” My lips press together when I realize I have nothing to say, he smiles bigger and runs a hand over his hair, causing his abs to flex, making me fight myself when all I want to do is launch myself off of the counter and tackle him to the tile floor of my kitchen.
“Babe, stop looking at me like that.”
I take a large bite of my bagel to prevent myself from saying, ‘Or what?’ in hopes he will return with, ‘I will give you endless orgasms.’
“Be back,” he mutters when his phone starts ringing from somewhere in the house. I say a silent thank you to whatever god that is preventing me from acting like an idiot, finish my bagel, and hop off the counter to wash my plate and cup, then feed Taser and Juice.
“Is everything okay?” I ask when he comes back into the kitchen a few minutes later carrying his boots and shirt.
“That was Mic; he just got to the shop and someone broke out the front window,” he says as his jaw clenches. He drops his boots to the floor and pulls his shirt on over his head then drops his ass onto my kitchen chair to put his boots on.
“Listen.” He pulls me down to his lap and pushes the hair out of my face. “This is not on you, so get that out of your head and that look off your face.”
“Isn’t it though?”
“No,” he states firmly, squeezing my waist, and I go to stand up, knowing it’s pointless to argue with him, only to be pulled back down into his lap. His hand slides up into the back of my hair kissing me before standing us both.
“See you later, baby.”
“Later.” I say watching him shut the door behind him.
*
“I told you I didn’t need you to follow me!” Kayan yells over her shoulder at Z, who is sitting on his bike with his arms crossed over his chest, watching her with a smirk on his face.
“Have a good day, Kitten,” Z tells her, and she shakes her head then storms over to me, stomping her feet across the gravel parking lot. When she reaches my side, she grabs my arm and starts to pull me with her towards the door of the building.
“Can I close the door to my car and get my coffee?” I ask her while trying to control my laughter.
“This isn’t funny,” she pouts, reading my face. “This is all your fault. Thanks to you, I had to have that guy in my house last night and this morning.”
“I could think of much worse problems, honey,” I tell her, slamming my door with my hip and grabbing my to-go coffee cup off the roof of my car.
“You would think so. He was shirtless in my house. Who gets undressed in front of people they don’t know then struts around showing off their body?” She blows a piece of hair out of her face, which has turned a nice shade of pink.
“You like him.” I smile, laughing at her.
“I do not like him.” She frowns, watching as he pulls out of the parking lot.
“Sure, you don’t.”
“I don’t,” she says, stomping past me as soon as I get the door open. “And if he thinks he’s staying at my house tonight, he has another thing coming!” I hear her yell as I go to my office. I shake my head and put away all my stuff before heading out front to see who my first patient is.
As I walk around the corner, I stop dead. The guy we followed to the bar is standing in front of the reception desk with his hands on top of it and his body leaning over the counter.
“Can I help you?” I ask then sweep my eyes over my friend to make sure she’s okay.
“Like I was just telling your friend, you guys need to mind your business.”
“I need to mind my business?” I step toward him and poke my finger in his chest. “You made whatever it is you’re doing my business when you started dropping dead dogs off at my hospital.”
“I was trying to do the right thing, but I won’t be able to save your stupid asses again. They will kill you,” he says, and I take in his appearance. He looks younger than I first thought. He’s maybe twenty-one. His hair is covered with a baseball cap that is sheading on the brim. His eyes are a crystal blue that is almost startling, and you can see stress and exhaustion in his gaze.
“I know people who can help you,” I tell him gently, but his eyes change and he takes a step back. “They can help; I promise.”
“Just mind your fucking business,” he shouts then turns around and pushes so hard against the door that the glass cracks as it hits the outside of the building.
“I wonder what we’re missing,” I say aloud as I watch him pull out of the parking lot.
“I don’t know, but he seems scared,” Kayan says, and I see her eyes are still on the door.
“Yeah,” I agree, swallowing.
“Do you want me to call Wes or Z and tell them what just happened?” she asks, and I look at her and shake my head. I know the first thing Wes would do is track down the kid, and I don’t think that boy could handle anything else right now.
“No, if anything else happens, I’ll tell him,” I promise.
She eyes me doubtfully, but nods her head anyways. The rest of the day passes without much drama, and I’m even able to stop and have a quick lunch with Wes in my office. I avoid telling him about the kid, and manage to find out from him that the window at his shop was broken with a brick. He believes whoever did it was probably young and dumb, so he didn’t believe it had anything to do with me.
Chapter 8
“Who stopped by this morning?” Wes asks as he walks through the door to my house. I look at him then my front door and wonder how the hell he was able to get in. I’m pretty sure I locked the door when I came home.
“How did you get in?” I question, feeling my brows pull together.
“I have a key. Now tell me who stopped by the hospital this morning.”
“Um…pardon?” I cross my arms over my chest, ignoring the fact that he somehow found out the dog guy stopped by to warn me off, while zeroing in on the fact he just said he has a key to my house.
“You heard me; don’t play dumb.”
“Yeah, I heard you.” I lean forward and point at my front door. “You have a key to my house that I never gave to you.”
“That shit doesn’t matter. Now, tell me what the fuck you were thinking keeping that from me.”
“No, you tell me how you think it’s okay to take a key to my house that I never gave you.”