Page 33 of Savage Protector

Chapter Fourteen

Izzy

I didn’t know what to make of the anger raging through the man standing just inside the door. Or the pain in his eyes that he tried to hide. Whatever that had been about had been big and I was about to deal with the aftermath.

This is where a smart woman would grab her stuff and say goodbye. This little fling had come to an abrupt end and it was time to get out while I still could.

Apparently, I wasn’t a smart woman.

“Are you okay?” I asked again knowing full well he would lie and say he was.

He nodded tightly as he walked over to his pack and retrieved a bottle of alcohol and what looked like a hand rolled cigarette that he placed at the corner of his mouth. I didn’t bother to tell him that it was only ten in the morning. Not only was I in no position to judge, but I understood the desire to chase the demons away any way he could.

Instead of returning to the bed where I waited, he took a seat at the small dining table staged close to the window. He proceeded to unscrew the cap from the bottle and took several swallows before producing a lighter from his pants pocket and lit the cigarette still dangling from his lips.

I sat mesmerized by the act as he inhaled deeply and then slowly blew a cloud of smoke toward the ceiling. The sweet, odd scent hit me almost immediately and I realized that was no ordinary cigarette. Houston was smoking weed.

After several more puffs, he finally turned and allowed his blue-eyed gaze to wander over me. With no small amount of surprise and a little shame mixed in, I shivered against an unexpected wave of arousal.

“Want some?”

I almost said no on auto pilot when I suddenly remembered I didn’t have to worry about what anyone thought anymore. My father wasn’t here to punish me and there was no staff to chastise me in his absence.

I walked over and accepted the offered blunt and took a small puff. I’d never smoked weed or anything before so I didn’t want to choke on it my first time.

I did anyway as my lungs protested with a small series of coughs.

“First time?”

I nodded, still trying to catch my breath.

He smiled for the first time that morning and my brain sighed in relief.

Once I was settled, he pulled me into his lap and pressed his front to my back. As the warmth of my little first marijuana buzz began to steal over me, I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked.

“Not really. Although I’m sure you have lots of questions. But you can just join the club. I’m still waiting to hear more from you.”

Game. Set. Match. Crap.

Ensnared in my own desire to make him feel better.

But I was stubborn and not letting it all go that easy.

“Just one question.”

He snorted. “Quid Quo Pro, Princess. It’s a thing. I’ll give you your one question, but in return I want a whole lot more. It’s time to even the score.”

“Okay,” I agreed as he handed me the weed cigarette again. This time when I puffed on it, I didn’t cough, although it still burned a tiny bit.

“Go ahead then. Ask your question.”

“Who’s Hawkeye?”

A low rumbling laugh from his chest vibrated against my back and made my already loosening muscles go positively lax. “All that and that’s your big question? You really are a little nut.”

We laughed and it felt really good again. The bad taste of the confrontation was far from gone, but alone together we’d managed to at least get a little more comfortable. I didn’t know what that meant but I liked it.

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