Reaper's Property(9)

“I’m here to see Jeff,” he said, setting down his phone. “He’s got something for me. Where is he?”
“He’s off with some girl,” I replied, still dazed. “Her name is Krissy, he said he’d be late. I’ll try calling him.”
He watched as I dialed Jeff. Straight to voicemail. I sent a text, hoping he was just busy and didn’t want to answer. More nothing. I looked at Horse and shrugged.
“I don’t think his phone is on,” I said. “I can let him know you came by though.”
Horse gave a short, harsh laugh that had nothing to do with humor.
“I rode three and a half hours to see him,” he replied. “He knew I was coming.”
I smiled weakly.
“Um, you know he’s a great guy, but he smokes out a lot and can be kind of forgetful…”
Horse narrowed his eyes.
“I’ll wait.”
I didn’t know how to deal with that, so I decided to put away the ice cream. Then my stomach growled audibly. I’d planned on eating a sandwich, but it felt weird not to offer him something.
“You want an omelet?” I asked, figuring everyone loves breakfast for dinner.
“Sounds good,” he replied. “Beer?”
“Um, yeah,” I said, opening the fridge. I was kind of surprised he hadn’t just helped himself, considering he’d already broken into the place. I handed him a bottle and started on the omelet. I’d made some cinnamon rolls last week and froze half of them, so I pulled those out too, along with a frozen thing of orange juice concentrate.
I glanced up to watch him taking a long pull on his bottle, eyes following me, throat muscles working as he swallowed. I could lick right from that little dip at the base of his throat up to his jawline…
Maybe not juice, I decided. Now I needed a beer.
Horse just watched me as I cooked, not saying anything, which creeped me out and turned me on at the same time.
“What kind of work are you guys doing with Jeff?” I asked.
“That’s club business,” he replied. “Don’t ask questions like that, you’ll get yourself in trouble.”
Noted. So much for conversation.
The omelet was done and I’d microwaved the rolls, so I dished up for both of us, thinking of my movie wistfully. I didn’t get to watch movies very often and it wasn’t like I’d invited Horse over. But I had the feeling he might not be quite as into Johnny Depp as me. Should I bring it up? He decided for me, sitting down on the couch and grabbing the remote.
“You coming?”
“Um, yeah,” I replied, following him into the living room. I planned on taking the armchair, but he patted the couch next to him with an air of challenge.
Never could resist a challenge.
He clicked through channels, stopping on another one of those fights with the big cage. I sighed and decided I wouldn’t share my ice cream with him.
“You don’t like MMA?” he asked, taking a bite of his cinnamon roll.
“Not really,” I replied, leaning back into the cushions.
He nodded.
“Lotta chicks don’t,” he replied. “But a lot do. All those sweaty bodies, you know?”
He glanced over at me, the slightest trace of humor in his eyes, and I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or not. I decided to just go to my room and eat there, but he reached out a hand to catch my arm, stopping me.
“What’s the problem?”
“I’m tired,” I said. “And I know you have business with Jeff and I’m really sorry he flaked on you, but I don’t have the energy for this.”
“This?”
I waved a hand around, encompassing him, the TV, etcetera.
“This,” I said. “I don’t understand if you’re teasing me or not and it’s confusing. And you took the remote.”
He shrugged.
“So you pick what we watch,” he replied lightly. “It’s not that big a deal, Marie.”
He handed over the clicker, giving me a smile that actually reached his eyes. I studied him—this was a new side to Horse and I liked it. He was still a big, tough bad guy (or at least not a good guy, I was pretty sure of that) but he honestly seemed relaxed and ready to let me out of whatever little mind game he was playing.
“Actually, I got a Redbox movie,” I said after a pause. “It’s the new Johnny Depp.”
He smirked but gestured magnanimously toward the screen.
“Pop it in.”
Unexpectedly, watching the movie with him was fun. During a fight scene he told me why it wouldn’t have worked in real life (sort of scary that he knew so much about hand-to-hand combat), but he didn’t tease me or anything during the sex scenes. When it ended we ordered another one on PPV. This time I let him pick, and to his credit he went for a thriller with a touch of romance that looked good to both of us without even pausing to scope out the porn. About halfway through I started getting a little cold, so I got up and grabbed a blanket. I figured I might as well share my ice cream too, so I filled bowls for both of us. When he finished he grabbed the bowls, set them on the table and pulled me across his lap, then sort of rolled over until he could lie back on the couch with me and my blanket on top of him.
I didn’t protest. He felt good, and while one hand rubbed up and down my back slowly, he didn’t cop a feel, which made me feel safe. In fact, I really didn’t want to get up or even acknowledge how much I was enjoying being held.
A man’s arms around me felt good.
In fact, they felt so good I fell asleep.

I woke up in my room, confused. I was in bed with Gary. Why was Gary here? Then I realized the body cradling mine was far too big to be Gary’s and the arm across my stomach had more muscles than my future ex had in his whole body. It also had a black tribal tattoo around the wrist.