“Go on up to bed, Liam,” Dad instructs, his eyes never leaving Trey.
“Yes, sir,” I mumble and run up the stairs.
As I crawl into bed, two feelings have my body shaking.
The first is relief that I’m no longer downstairs where Trey is.
The second is fear, because I know when Hell Night gets here, I’ll be hurting more than I ever have before.
EDEN
“SO, TELL ME THREE THINGS about yourself that most people wouldn’t know,” JW says as we drive through town. He decided to take me with him today, and I couldn’t have been more pleased. It gives me the chance to get to know him more. See him while he works. Of course, in a town this size, there’s not much that goes on. But that’s okay. I’d rather him have a boring day with no crime than have him out fighting dangerous criminals on the regular.
Apparently, by his question, he’s taking advantage of our time together as well, which brings a secret smile to my face. I love that he wants to know more about me.
“Hmm… let’s see.” I tap my finger against my lips as I think. “I always eat the chocolate chips first in mint chocolate chip ice cream. And it has to be the Breyer’s brand, because they make the best.” I roll my eyes upward and try to come up with something else. “I have an addiction to coffee cups. Three of my cabinets back home are full of them, and I have four more boxes in the attic.”
“Jesus,” he chuckles and shakes his head. “Why in the hell would you need that many coffee cups? There’s no way you can use them all.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just like them, and I rotate them out, so they do all get used eventually.”
He grunts, but his lips twitch. “And number three?”
“I don’t have a favorite color.”
He lifts a brow and moves his eyes from the road long enough to send me disbelieving look. “A woman without a favorite color? Aren’t all girls supposed to have a favorite color?”
“Well, I guess I technically do. Right now, it’s baby blue, but next week it’ll be something different. My favorite color changes all the time.”
“Why?” he asks, laughing lightly.
“It changes when I see something I really like. Whatever color that is, is my new favorite color.”
He pulls up to a stop sign and looks over at me. “And what did you see that’s baby blue that made it your new favorite color for the week?”
I look away from him, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. I really don’t want to answer that question. It’ll sound silly and childish. He reaches over and laces our fingers together, putting our conjoined hands on the center console.
“Gypsy?” he calls, and I can’t help but slide my eyes his way. He already knows. I can tell by the softness in his gaze, but he wants me to say it anyway.
Clearing my throat, I confess, “It’s the color of your eyes.”
His grin starts on one side and slowly creeps across the rest of his face. He has on a pair of sunglasses, which is a shame in this moment, because I can’t see his eyes.
“Yeah, I know. Corny, right?” I ask, my already red cheeks turning a shade darker.
“Not at all.” He lifts my hand and kisses the back of it. “This actually may be corny, but that’s one of the nicest things a woman has said to me. And I have to say, I really fuckin’ like that your favorite color is the same color as my eyes.”
My embarrassment slides right off my face, and I smile big at him.
“Now, give me those lips.”
He snatches off the sunglasses, tosses them on the dash, he tugs me across the console, and he meets me halfway. It’s not a hard kiss, but one that’s soft and sweet and sends flutters to my stomach. I let out a sigh against his lips and we lazily stroke our tongues together.
All too soon, there’s a catcall from outside the truck. We pull away but don’t lean back in our seats. We stay only centimeters apart and look at each other. The color that I just mentioned in his eyes, changes. It’s no longer the pretty baby blue, but a darker hue. More like steel, which is just as pretty, and probably my second favorite color.
There’s another jeer and JW’s eyes narrow as he turns in his seat, rolls down the window, and yells, “Fuck off, Aaron, and mind your own damn business.”
The man, who’s barely a man and has to be in his early twenties, just snickers with a couple of other guys standing with him. “Shouldn’t the sheriff know he’s not allowed to make out in public? Didn’t you just bust me and Lisa last week for doing the same thing?”