Rock Chick Renegade (Rock Chick #4)(64)

Vance flicked two fingers at Lee, I put my arms around Vance’s middle and we shot off.

* * * * *

Vance parked close to the backdoor of my house and we got off the bike. He grabbed my hand and started toward the house but I stopped him with a jerk on his hand. When he turned his eyes to me, I realized I was trembling.

“What just happened?” I whispered.

“We’ll talk inside.”

“It was important, wasn’t it?”

“Jules,” Vance said softly, “let’s get inside.”

Then he tensed and his head swung to the side of the house, his eyes narrowing. Lee materialized out of the darkness. I stared at him as he walked to us, straight to us, straight to me.

My body went solid, my hand tightened in Vance’s but Lee stopped, close, leaned in, wrapped a hand around the back of my head and pulled me to him. He kissed my forehead, let me go and then just as fast as he got there, he was gone.

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath and I let it out in a rush.

“It was important,” I whispered to the darkness.

Chapter Thirteen

My List

I let us in. Vance locked the door behind us and unarmed the beeping alarm then rearmed it for windows and doors. Throughout this he never let go of my hand.

Boo pranced into the kitchen, took one look at us and let loose with news of his day and his dissatisfaction at the wait to get his treats.

Vance murmured, “Quiet, cat.”

Boo, surprisingly, ceased meowing (though, he did it with a kitty pouty face).

Vance curled me into his body and his arms went around me tight.

I didn’t resist this. I told my Rottweiler to hush because I needed this just this once, just this time.

I put my arms around him, pressed my face into his neck and held him back. Slowly, I felt his strong, warm body absorb my trembles until they were gone.

Vance’s phone rang. He ignored it and kept hold of me.

His phone quit ringing and he said quietly, “You did well.”

I nodded against his neck. Vance saying that meant a lot, more than I wanted it to mean, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to let it show.

He kept hold of me as the minutes ticked by and Boo started swirling his kitty body around our ankles.

Then Vance’s phone rang again. I pulled back but Vance’s arms stayed around me.

I looked at him and whispered, “I’m okay. Get your phone.”

He watched me a few beats and read on my face that I wasn’t fibbing so he let me go.

While I got Boo his treats, Vance pulled out his phone, flipped it open and said, “Yeah?”

Boo came with me into the bathroom and watched while I brushed my teeth, washed my face, slathered on my night cream that smelled of oranges and changed into my blue nightgown. I wrapped my fleecy, dove gray robe around me, walked into the living room, lit some candles and a soft lamp and lay on my side on my lilac couch, Boo tucked into the crook of my lap.

I stroked him, he purred and I thought about what a funny world it was.

I may not have saved Park but I saved Tye and with him I may have helped to save Darius and maybe even Shirleen.

I listened vaguely to Vance talking on the phone in the kitchen and then listened when he stopped talking. Without him making a sound all of a sudden he was there, his thighs in my line of vision. I followed them up and just when my eyes hit his face he leaned over, gently gathered up Boo, dropped him in the armchair and turned back around.

Then he gathered me.

Picking me up, Vance turned, sat, twisted then settled back, lying full-length on the couch with me on top of him. I put my elbow into the seat cushion between him and the back of the couch, lifted up my torso and looked down at him.

“Anything important on the phone?” I asked.

“It’ll wait,” he said, eyes on my face, the fingers of one hand spreading open my robe then sliding from my hip and up my side.

“I like Shirleen. She’s funny,” I told Vance, ignoring his movements even as his hand went from my side to move forward across my ribcage.

“Everyone likes Shirleen,” he replied.

“Are they going to be able to get out of the business without getting hurt?” I asked and his fingers curled, his knuckles stroked feather light against the underside of my breast and my belly fluttered in what I was classifying as a Grade Three flutter (yes, I could classify them now, Grade Ten was an orgasm).

“Don’t know,” he answered.

I swallowed. “We need to talk,” I informed him, deciding it was time. Definitely time. Way passed time. My emotional Rottweiler was growling warningly telling me if I didn’t do something soon, it would be too late.

“All right,” Vance agreed, his hand moving away from my body but it came up then pulled my robe down my shoulder.

“Crowe, seriously,” I shrugged my shoulder to try to keep the robe in place but he already had it down my arm and then it was off on one side.

His hand slid around my waist to my back and he pulled me to him, his mouth going to my neck. “Talk,” he said there and I admitted to myself that I liked it when he spoke against my neck, it felt good.

“You have to listen,” I said to him, feeling Grade Three rise to Grade Four and being unable to do anything about it when his lips hit my ear and he traced the outer edges with his tongue.