Page 123 of Just the Thing
He responded in a nasal whine, “To tell you to get your brothers to lay off.”
She frowned. “Huh?”
“They put a beatdown on him months ago.” J.T. frowned. “They’re still bugging you, douche bag?”
“Put a tire iron to my car last night,” Greg said through a bloody nose. “Wrote me a threatening note too.”
“Not my brothers. They’re too busy to deal with you, dickhead.” Hope turned on her heel and walked back down the hill, too fast, toward her car.
Just as she stumbled, J.T. grabbed her.
She clutched his thick forearm and stared at his hand, seeing his darker skin against hers. Noticing how graceful and long his fingers were. How sensual… Heat sizzled along every nerve in her body.
She refused to meet his gaze, though she felt it burning through her like a laser. He guided her down the hill, then slowly let go, his fingers trailing her arm to her wrist, then the back of her hand, a whisper of touch.
He walked her back to her car in silence.
“Th-thanks.”
He nodded. “I was passing by and saw some guy going up the hill, but the woman at the top—you—didn’t seem to know he was there. He watched you before he walked up. I didn’t get a good vibe.”
“Oh. Yeah, he’s an old ex.” She frowned. “Not sure what he’s talking about with my brothers. They wouldn’t be bothering with him. Heck,Ihaven’t heard from the guy in months.”
“Odd.” He nodded, looking her over. “You look pretty.”
“Thanks.” They just stared at each other. “I was at a wedding.”
He glanced at her fingers. “Obviously not yours.”
“Right. Pink dress. Not white.” She pointed to herself.
He smiled. “I like pink.”
Oh God. He was flirting with her.Danger! Danger!Everything feminine in her preened and counted down a timeline to when she could legitimately audition to be his personal mattress. First date? Third?
Just another potential bad decision on her list of bad decisions.
Nope. Not this time. Not this girl. “Thanks again.” She smiled, waved, and rushed into her car so fast he blinked and she was gone. She checked her rearview as she drove away and saw him staring after her.
Man, her mother would burst a blood vessel if Hope brought him home. J.T. Webster—a man with a questionable background, rumors of jail time, atattoo artist, and a giant who looked like he ate mean for breakfast. Now to stop thinking how amazing it would be to flaunt him under Linda’s nose and instead focus on better life choices.
She pulled into her apartment complex and parked, then checked her phone, only to seemoreharanguing from Queen Linda, the Donnigan matriarch who had never made a mistake in her whole damn life.
Thoughts played through Hope’s brain, the flickering of plans made and refined. Like what kind of tattoo she planned to get the next time Linda jumped her case.
She smiled. “Bring it, Linda. And I bringhim.”
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All I Want for Halloween
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