Page 22 of One Bad Idea
"And,"the guy continued, "you're gonna forget it happened. No more cops. No more grief. Not today. Not tomorrow. And not fifty years from now." His voice grew a shade darker. "Or else."
Now, that wasdefinitelya threat.
Obviously, the caller had taken it the same way, because the jerk was saying, "Or what?" He paused for a long, dreadful moment. "I'll be paying you a visit, that's what." He smiled. "And if you thinkshe'sa pain, you ain't seen nothing yet."
The conversation ended a moment later with him telling the caller that someone would be there in a half-hour to handle the details.
What details he meant, I didn't even want to speculate.
Aside from throttling him, the only thing I wanted to do now was recover my phoneandget him away from the truck.
The phone part was easy. But the thing with the truck?Thatturned out to be annoyingly complicated.
Chapter 8
When he finished talking with whoever, he held out my cell phone, saying, "Told ya."
I snatched it from his hand. "Told me what?"
"That I'd give it back."
"What, you want credit or something?" My chin lifted. "Maybe you shouldn't've taken it in the first place."
"Yeah?" He gave a casual shrug. "Maybe you shouldn’t've left it outside."
I shoved my cell phone into the front pocket of my borrowed shorts. "I didn't leave it 'outside,'" I told him. "I left it on the porch."
"Same difference, you ask me."
"Except Ididn'task, did I?" I glanced around. "And where's my charger?"
He pointed vaguely toward the front door. "Kitchen counter, near the fridge."
I turned and looked toward the house.So he'd taken the charger inside? Why?Surely, it couldn’t've been just to be nice.
When I turned and gave him a questioning look, he said, "What, you need directions?" The corners of his mouth twitched. "Turn left at the sandwich."
Stupidly, I wanted to giggle.AndI wanted to scream. He was doing this on purpose. I just knew it. I gave him a stiff smile. "What, you didn't eat it?"
At this, he had the nerve to laugh. It wasn't a big laugh. It was more of a chuckle really. Still, I liked the sound.And, I hated the fact that I liked it.
I was definitely losing my mind. Andhewasn't helping.
Sometime in the last minute or two, he'd gone back to leaning his ass against the truck. This would've been annoying enough, but with him, it wasdoublyannoying because he looked so stupidly good doing it.
His hair was wavy and thick. His mouth was full and lush. And his eyes? They were dark and intense – the kind of eyes I might've gotten lost in, if only they weren't connected to the most obnoxious person I'd ever met.
It didn't help that his body was just as annoying. His legs were long. His hips were tight. And his whole upper body was too maddening for words, partly because I was seeing way too much of it.
His hoodie wasn'twideopen, but it was open far enough to give me another good look at his tattooed torso. His pecs were firm, and his stomach was flat, except for all of those interesting ridges and valleys of tight muscles. Even as far as the tattoos, they'd never been my thing.But on him?Let's just say, I was reconsidering their appeal.
I blinked.Damn it.I'd gone all fuzzy again.
At least I hadn't been staring.
Had I?
In my stupefied state, I had to remind myself that my phone wasn't the only thing he'd grabbed without asking.
