Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(39)
“Yeah, of course. How’s he doing?”
“Changing schools seems to have helped tremendously. He’s far away from that old crowd he used to run with. He’s seeing a drug and alcohol counselor every week too. Being away from Todd was the key, though, just like you said. Jerry and I told Crystal she could move back home too but she’s not speaking to us anymore. She’s blaming us for taking her son away and for believing Lucas instead of her. Threatening to come snatch him in the middle of the night. She can screw up her life but she’s not going to take my grandson down with her. No way.”
“You did the right thing. Crystal’s an adult who’s making bad decisions. And the courts gave you custody, so she doesn’t have a leg to stand on. She tries to take him, that’s a felony.” I snagged a napkin and motioned for her pen. “Here’s my number. Call me if you have any problems. I don’t always answer, so make sure you leave me a message and I’ll get back to ya.”
She stuffed it into her apron. “You’re an angel, Adam. I can’t thank you enough for all that you’ve done.”
I stood and gave her a hug, ignoring Kara’s blatant staring from across the diner. “Don’t worry. We’ll work something out and get the boy on a better track. You keep believing in him and don’t give up, okay?”
“Thank you.” She sniffed, squeezing me. “Thank you. I better get back to the kitchen. Holler for me when you’re ready.”
As I watched her walk away, years of training and lack of trust for humanity had me eyeing the place, taking in every detail—what people were wearing, what they looked like—identifying, describing, and assessing them as potential victims or criminals. Kathy’s grandson was only fourteen and had experienced the ugly side of people far more than any kid should.
Damn, when did I get so f*cking jaded?
I’m sure Doctor Erin didn’t view the world that way. All she saw were victims.
As soon as she drifted back into my mind, all I could picture was cuffing her hot, naked body to my headboard and violating her nine ways to Sunday. She’d definitely be fun to play with.
But the moment she came through the door of the diner I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest. I caught myself grinning and had to remind myself to take my excitement down a notch.
Man, her smile is precious. That’s enough to brighten the shittiest of days.
“Sorry I’m late,” Erin said as she slid into the booth, sitting across from me. “Hope you weren’t waiting long.”
I probably would have waited all damn day for her. A vision of my grandfather smacking me in the head for not standing before she sat down flashed through my thoughts. Well, it was too late now. “Let me guess. You had an emergency.”
She smiled. “Good guess. Um, compound fracture of the ulna.”
“Ulna?” I asked, watching her fuss with her long hair. I was willing to bet her head was filled with all sorts of useful information.
She patted her forearm and then flicked a finger away from her skin.
I cringed a little inside. “Bone pierced the skin?”
“Yep. Guy fell off a roof. He said he was taking down his Christmas lights, but at four in the morning without pants on?”
“Yeah, that’s highly unlikely.” I’d seen plenty of derelicts in my lifetime so my imagination didn’t have to stretch too far. I could only imagine what gore she’d seen with those soulful eyes. I didn’t want to think about it though, spoiling my other visions of her. Damn, she’s gorgeous. I can’t stop staring at her. Imagining her naked. Strapped down tight to my bed. My mouth on every inch of her. Her feet sliding over the sheets as she helplessly writhes in pleasure. Fuck, I want to have her in ways no one else ever has or ever will.
This is not good.
I barely knew her and already she was getting under my skin.
You got to walk away from this, Adam, my inner voice warned. This is going to be worse than Nikki. Even she didn’t get you going like this. No woman is going to put up with your schedule or the fact that you’re on goddamned television like some poseur wannabe, making it all that much worse. Decaf, some eggs, polite conversation, and get the hell outa here.
Kathy came back, coffee pot in hand. “Coffee?”
Erin popped her head up from the menu. “No thank you. May I please have a tall glass of orange juice?”
“Make that two.” She had the fullest lips with that hint of mischief set to them. My plan to eat and bail was diverted by imagining how sweet her mouth would taste.
“Do you know what you want?” I asked, shaking those thoughts out of my head while fighting back another bizarre desire to feed her with my fingers.
She seemed so peppy and excited by the simple task of picking out her breakfast, even though her lips were wrinkled with indecision. “Everything looks so tempting. I’m starving, actually. I’m thinking western omelet and whole wheat toast. Maybe some home fries too.” Her grin was silly.
She was tempting. So very tempting. If she knew what I was really hungry for right now she’d surely reach across the table and slap me hard. I glanced back at the menu for the pure distraction of it while my desires and vivid images sort of blurred together.
I shifted, feeling tight all over. Fortunately I had a spare pair of jeans in my locker, replacing my bloodied cargo pants. Unfortunately, those jeans were constricting all sorts of new blood flow.