With Ties That Bind (The Broken Bonds 4)
And I shouldn’t, because Addy Monroe is the type of woman you marry, not the type of woman you just fuck and chuck, and husband material, I am not. Regardless of that fact, am I backing off? No. I’m not. I can’t. I can’t explain what I don’t even understand myself, but I’m irrationally drawn to her.
“How about a beer, then we’ll get the rest of the stuff?” I ask Bigs, needing to get my mind off what a stupid decision I’ve just made. I should have just cut bait and found a place of my own that held neither memories nor the woman I want to throw up against the closest wall and fuck into submission. But what can I say? I’m a poster child for self-destruction. Always have been.
“Thought you’d never fucking ask,” he replies, already headed toward the kitchen where I’ve stocked the fridge with a case of Heineken. Handing me one and taking one for himself, we pop the tops and clink before each taking a nice long gulp.
“You sure this is a good idea, boss?”
Ben “Bigs” Briggs is an old friend of mine and an employee I’ve had on the payroll of my private investigation company for two and a half years strong now. He’s also the one I sent to Chicago to keep an eye on Livia for a month until I could figure out the shit with the video that was leaked. We’ve been through hell and back together and I’d trust the man with my life. He’s my closest confidant and knows almost everything about my past with Livia, and in one drunken night a couple weeks ago, I guess I mentioned my unholy attraction to her best friend. My new roomie.
“I’m sure I’m tired of listening to you and Hattie’s moaning every fucking night, so yeah.”
His grin is wide and shameless. “Walls are thin, what can I say.”
“Oh, I’ve heard plenty of what you’ve had to say. Even through the Kleenex I shoved in my ears. I now know things about you I would rather go to my grave not knowing.”
That draws a loud laugh from Ben. “Probably taught your sorry ass a few new things.”
“Yeah, a few new things not to say.”
“Asshole. Say, I got a tip earlier on the bail jumper. I’m headed to Kankakee tomorrow to check out a lead.”
“Take Stucky with you. This guy’s bad news.”
“Lucky for him I’m his worst fucking nightmare.”
“Bigs, I mean it.”
“Worried about lil’ ol’ me, are you?”
“No, I just want Stucky out of my hair.” I laugh, taking a long pull of the bitter hops.
“I don’t want to be stuck with that whiny bitch any more than you do, LC.” Hence, why we call my newest employee, Jason Stark “Stucky.” He’s proven to be a brilliant investigator, but he’s a bitch baby no one wants to be around for long.
“When you own your own business, then you get to make the assignments.”
“Fucker.” He slams the rest of his beer and sets down the empty bottle on the pristine counter before heading toward the front door. “I’m going to grab the last couple of boxes.”
“Thanks, man.”
I look at the clock to see it’s after eight and I wonder when the hellcat will be home. I know she owns her own painting studio, although I have no idea what hours she keeps. I have to imagine owning her own business like I do, means she puts in a lot of time. I half expected her to be here when I pulled up in the truck but was kind of relieved when she wasn’t. I didn’t want to get into a pissing match in front of Bigs. He’d never let me live that shit down since he tried talking me out of moving in with Addy in the first place.
“Never shit where you eat, man.”
But I already had one father, thank you very much, and God knows I’ve lived under the boot of too many people for too many fucking years, so I’m not about to let anyone hold me back from doing what I want to do when I want to do it.
And, right or wrong, over these last few months what I’ve decided I want to do is Addy Monroe. Repeatedly and wickedly until I’ve had my fill of her. Wooing a woman like that from afar will never work. She’s going to need constant, daily convincing of the reasons she needs me to explore every inch of her sexy temple.
I inanely wonder if she’s dating anyone. Guess maybe I should have thought about that before I moved in. Oh well, far as I know, she’s got no ring on her finger and until she does she’s fair game.
I’m just finishing my beer when I hear a commotion in the hallway. I step out of the kitchen into the living room to a shrill voice yelling, “What the hell?”
I don’t see her because Bigs takes up the entire doorway with his bulk; I sure do hear her, though. Bigs catches my eye. With a shit-eating grin on his face, he shakes his head and steps to the side, heading down the hallway with two big boxes in hand.
Watching the space Bigs just vacated, I lock eyes with the woman I’ve ached to see for nearly three long months.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” she shrieks. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing here, Luke?” I’m sure her arms would be flailing if they weren’t filled with folders. I almost wish they weren’t; I’d love to watch her indignant display.
She opens and closes her mouth several times, no more acidic words falling. The barely leashed fire shooting from her eyes would singe me if I actually gave a shit. As it is, I don’t, so I lean against the counter and drink in my fill of the stunning spitfire I cannot stop thinking about. I let my gaze slowly roam down her tight body, which is sadly hidden underneath a light pink spring jacket.