When I finally emerge from my room fifteen minutes later, our apartment has been invaded. Livie’s in the kitchen, standing next to a sexy disheveled Storm with a crying five year old in her arms. Clearly my screams yanked Storm out of a dead sleep because she's wearing nothing but a tank and thong.
A police officer is interviewing a short balding man with the perpetrator coiled around his wrist. I shiver. Lenny, I presume. Trent’s right. Now that I see the thing, it’s not nearly as big as I first thought. Still, I fold my arms across my chest protectively, feeling its beady little eyes sizing me up.
Tanner hovers beside the busted front door, scratching the back of his head as if confused by the splinters of wood. I have to admit, I’m more than a little impressed. Trent’s a big guy, but I wouldn’t bet money that he could break through not one, but two doors to save me. That little bit of knowledge makes the guilt over kicking him out of my room churn faster.
Trent stands quietly beside him, his hands in his back pockets as he looks down at the mess. His shirt is half undone where I tore the buttons, drenched and clinging to a sculpted chest. Even with present company, that sight makes my mouth dry up.
Storm’s the first to run to me after handing Mia off to Livie. She throws her arms around my neck. I still flinch, but not as bad as I did the first time she did it. “Are you okay?” If my leaving her in the car last night bothers her, I can’t tell.
Over her shoulder, I watch the officer and the little bald man’s eyes bug out, riveted to Storm’s ass. The officer, at least, has the decency to flush and avert his attention to a worn spot on the linoleum. The bald man, on the other hand, doesn’t; his grin widening. “I’ll be better after I go punch that guy in the nose,” I say loudly enough for him to hear me. He looks away, caught red-handed.
“That’s Pervie Pete,” she whispers, cringing as she stretches the back of her shirt down to cover her bare backside. It’s futile. The shirt’s too short and her thong is too revealing. “I’ll be right back.” She scurries out.
Tanner looks up from the splintered mess. “Oh, hey, Kerry.”
Kerry? My brow arches severely. “Hey … Larry! How’s it going?”
Livie tries to muffle her snort with her hand. At first Tanner looks confused, but then a toothy grin stretches across his face. “Kacey,” he corrects himself. “Sorry … Kacey.”
The police officer patiently scratches down notes on a pad as we replay the entire incident while taking frequent breaks to stare at Storm now that she’s dressed. At the end, he gives Mia a sheriff badge sticker which makes her grin from ear to ear. Pervie Pete apologizes profusely and takes Lenny back to his cage, swearing to a stern Tanner that he’ll double check to make sure the cage is secured well. The officer asks me if I want to press charges against Trent and I glare at him like he’s grown an arm out of his ass.
When the officer leaves—not before giving Storm a long, appreciative smile—Tanner and Trent are still staring at the two broken doors. “I understand that this was an emergency, but … er … I need to get this fixed and Perv-” Tanner clears his voice, “Peter will take a while to come up with the money. I doubt these gals have insurance …” Tanner reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. “I’ve got, um, a hundred bucks I can throw in.”
My jaw drops. What? I’m expecting a tirade and eviction notice and here Tanner is, offering to pay for our door? Livie, Storm, and I share a look of shock. Before I can get a word in though, Trent’s handing Tanner a fistful of money from his wallet. “Here. This should cover it.” Tanner takes it with a nod, and then exits without another word, leaving us all speechless.
Trent walks over to Livie and thrusts out a hand. “Hi, I’m Trent. We haven’t met formally.”
Whatever rage Livie had running through her veins has extinguished, leaving her blushing and as awkward as a tittering twelve year old. She shakes his hand quickly before recoiling as if she might get pregnant with the touch, her eyes avoiding anything to do with his half-open shirt and that gorgeous toned body underneath. I grin inwardly. My chaste Livie.
Trent introduces himself to Storm next. She blushes sweetly and an unwarranted stab of jealousy pricks me. When he moves on to Mia hiding behind Storm’s legs, I catch Storm’s exaggerated wink of approval. I roll my eyes.
“And you must be Princess Mia? I’ve heard about you.”
Her lips pucker and she leans out just a bit further from Storm’s cover. “You have?”
He nods. “Well, I heard about a Princess Mia who likes ice cream. That must be you, right?”
She nods slowly and whispers, “Did you hear that, Mommy? People know I’m a princess!”
Everyone laughs. Everyone but me. I’m too busy fighting this internal battle inside that tells me I must resist this charm. It’s all an act. He’s no good for me.
Actually, that’s not it at all, I hate to admit.
The problem is that I know he’s too good for me.
Trent stands up to face me. “You going to be okay?”
Always so concerned about me. I nod, my arms folding over my chest as I look down at my robe, fidgeting awkwardly under that scrutinizing gaze of his, remembering the feel of his body pressed against mine. And that he pulled me from the shower, buck naked and cowering.
All kinds of humiliation roils through me now.
I’m not sure if my discomfort registers with Trent, but he takes a few steps back, his hand pushing back through his hair. “Well, I’ll see you guys around.” He winks at me. “Need to wash off all this soap. I hope my shower isn’t as eventful.”
“Yeah …” I mumble, feeling stupid, following his body move, quickly plotting how I can plant something in his shower so I have an excuse to bust down his door and jump in to save him. Not a snake. He doesn’t seem to be afraid of snakes. Maybe a gator. Yeah, there’re lots of those in Florida. Just a quick trip to the Everglades, I’ll find one, trap it, bring it back—
“Kacey?”
I snap back to the present with Storm’s voice, her brow arched as she looks at me, smirking. I’ve obviously missed a question. “What?”
“I’m sure Trent would love to have dinner with us as a thank you.” I see the gleam in her eye. She’s playing match maker.
I don’t like it.
Trent doesn’t want this mess.
“Do whatever you want. I’ll be at the gym,” I answer and my tone is an arctic breeze, freezing any mirth in the room. I spin on my heels and stalk back into my room before anyone can get a word in edgewise.
And I hate myself.
The Breaking Point is quieter than usual for late-afternoon, but I’m okay with that. I’m still reeling from today’s snake excitement. And Trent. I need my nice, quiet routine. I quickly stretch and get ready to start my rounds on the bag.
“Hey, Red!” Ben’s voice booms from behind.
Dammit. I turn to catch him just as his attention shifts up from my ass. “Ben.”
He strides around and grabs my bag for me. “You need a spotter?”
“I guess I’m getting one either way, aren’t I?” I grumble. But then his sly smirk makes me laugh for some reason, releasing the tension in my body. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
