Page 70 of Promiscuous Lies

But I realize I’m using my son as an excuse to keep us in a bubble. I thought I was protecting us, but have I been doing more harm than good?

When I walk back toward the living room, I sigh guiltily because Dutton’s silhouette is visible against the glass beside the door.

This man doesn’t know how to give up, and I hate how much it’s starting to wear me down. I tell him I hate it, but a small part of me is beginning to fall for it, to expect it almost. And I know I’ll feel winded when he’s not there anymore.

When I open the door, he straightens and turns to face me. He looks so out of place in his perfectly tailored suit, the porch light shining down on him. This exceptionally wealthy, successful, and beautiful man is sitting at my front door, just waiting for me.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know I can be short-tempered. I… I get scared about what might happen to me and Bentley in the future. I want to make sure he’s safe. I hate his father with everyfiber of my being, and I don’t want to give you his name so you don’t get caught up in my mess.”

“Do you want me to kill him?”

“What?”

“The man you seem to be terrified of. Do you want me to kill him?”

“You’d do that?” It’s not much of a surprise that Dutton kills people, but this is him outright admitting it. Again, I should be terrified of him, and he should be more careful as to who he trusts with this information.

“Yes, I will, if that’s what you want.” And I know he means it.

I hate that the offer is appealing, which is an ugly side of me. It’d be easy to wipe this world of Bentley’s father and never have to worry again. A small part of me feels protected by Dutton, knowing he’d go to such lengths for Bentley and me. But I can’t help but be cautious because that would mean he would hold something over me for the rest of my life. And I never want to give another man that much power. That, and it’ll direct attention to his family if he were to kill Bobbi. It could get them killed. I know his family is powerful and deadly in their own right, but this isn’t their burden to carry.

“No, I don’t want you to kill him.” Sighing, I suggest, “You should go, Dutton.” I want to slide down the wall beside him and simply lay my head on his shoulder. I want to use him for comfort instead of sex, and once I step past that boundary, I’ll come to depend on him. And then he’ll vanish.

I hear the rev of a motorcycle, and I tense. Dutton reaches for me, but I push his hand away.

“I can stay,” he offers. “You seem unsettled.”

My heart pounds as I tell him to leave. I don’t like anyone seeing me like this, and this is now the second time he’s seen me vulnerable and having to face the demons of my past. It’s been six years, and I’ve become complacent.

He shakes his head as if disappointed but doesn’t push the matter, which I’m grateful for. It would appear that my boss is starting to understand me a bit better. Or should I say, we’re both understanding one another, which is painfully obvious.

He lazily stands up and leans down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. My gaze follows him as he walks away. I quickly close the door and lock it behind him; then I grab my bat. After making sure the house is locked up tight, I go to my room. I set the bat next to the bed and then get undressed.

I try to sleep, but it’s a lost cause. When the sun begins to peek through my curtains, I know it’s pointless. I get out of bed, turn on the coffee machine, and peer outside my front window. I’m surprised to find Dutton’s car still parked at the curb with him in it.

He stayed all night.

And I hate him for it.

Why can’t he stay the arrogant asshole I’ve been calling him?

Why is he ever so slowly trying to wedge himself deeper in my heart and show me that I can rely on him?

CHAPTER 34

Dutton

Fuck. Sleeping in the car was not as comfortable as I’d hoped.

Posie steps out of the house, tightening the belt on her robe. She purposefully strides to the driver’s side of the car, and I open the door as she brushes a lock of messy hair from her face.

“I can see why you never stay the night; that bird’s nest you grow on your head overnight is atrocious,” I joke.

But she doesn’t take the bait. Instead, she says, “You stayed all night?”

“Did you not want me to?”

“I never asked that of you.”

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