The Hookup (Moonlight and Motor Oil #1)(39)

I decided against telling him he’d broken down my door to steal Dempsey.

Or any of the other stuff.

“The cops know. I have a restraining order against him. Deanna and Charlie also know. The last time I saw him, Charlie was in my doorway with a baseball bat explaining that if I saw him again, Charlie would cave his head in with that bat. I think he took Charlie at his word, which is good because I have a feeling Charlie was serious and I don’t want him in trouble. But I haven’t seen or heard from Kent since. I’m not even sure he knows where I live. It’s been months. It’s over.”

Johnny stared into my eyes before he looked at the clapboard over my head.

“It’s very sweet you’re concerned but—”

His gaze cut down to mine and he interrupted me.

Shockingly.

And breathtakingly.

“You look good. You smell good. That dress is so fucking hot I want to haul you around to the back, shove the skirt up, rip your panties off and fuck you against The Star.”

My mouth dropped open.

Johnny wasn’t done.

“Eat dinner beside you knowin’ you can’t put on your torn, useless fucking panties and I’ll keep them in my pocket while you eat steak that isn’t half as good as the one I made you, sitting beside me feeling thoroughly fucked.”

“Johnny,” I breathed, not right then feeling thoroughly fucked, alas, but definitely suddenly thoroughly wet.

“I thought I’d give it some time and come back, build something different with you, but I’m not thinking this friend thing is gonna work, Iz.”

“Please don’t say that,” I begged.

His forehead came to mine, one hand went high on the wall beside me and his other hand slid down my side over the ruched, soft, stretchy white fabric of my dress that skimmed my figure from neck to knee, had no sleeves and even I had wondered if it was too sexy to wear to work (guess I had my answer).

“He comes back, you call the cops then your next call is me,” he ordered.

“I can’t promise that. Charlie already made me promise my next call would be him.”

“Then you call this Charlie guy and then you call me.”

“He won’t come back, Johnny,” I assured.

“You call the cops, Charlie and me. Say it, Izzy.”

I stared up close into his eyes.

“I call the cops, Charlie then you, Johnny.”

He didn’t move.

I didn’t either.

But eventually my mouth did.

“Is she back?”

“Oh no. Hell no.” His forehead rolled on mine as he underlined a negative I thought I understood, but when he went on I would find I did not. “She doesn’t get this. She doesn’t get us. We’ve talked about her all we’re ever gonna talk about her. She doesn’t get to be a part of whatever it is that’s gonna be the me and you we become.”

My breath caught.

What did that mean?

“How’re the dogs?” he asked.

“They’re good,” I forced out.

“The horses?”

“Good.”

“Wesley still singing?”

He was killing me.

I nodded.

“Good, baby,” he whispered, his gaze no longer focused on mine.

It had dropped to my mouth.

Oh God, he was going to kiss me.

Oh God, I was going to kiss him!

This couldn’t happen.

I wanted it, boy did I want it.

But it took a huge effort of will to survive it ending after two breakfasts, two dinners, one telephone conversation, one text exchange and lots of sex.

If there was kissing, more sex or more anything like that, I might not.

We needed to be friends.

We could not be lovers.

“Oh shit, son, sorry.” Both our heads turned (and I will note they did this without our foreheads disconnecting) to see Dave walking backward, hands up. “Could see you were shaken up at gettin’ that news about Izzy. Margot could too. She sent me out to check on you but now I’ve done that and you two look like you’re, um . . . good. You, uh . . . just get back to what you were doing.”

Johnny made another noise, kind of like his subdued roar of earlier, but this one was not indication of enraged fury but instead indication of enraged frustration.

After making it, he lifted his forehead from mine and called, “We’re coming back in, Dave. Tell Margot it’s good and I hope you all ordered the mushrooms.”

“Got you a beer, boy, mushrooms ordered, just take your time,” Dave replied, moving sprightly back to the front doors and through them.

There was a couple standing outside the doors, both looking our way.

“Hey, uh . . . Johnny,” the man called.

“Trev,” Johnny returned and it sounded like a grunt, a loud one that carried, but a grunt nonetheless.

The woman Trev was with gave a hesitant wave.

Johnny ignored her.

I waved hesitantly back.

That got me a hesitant smile.

I hesitantly smiled back.

“Babe,” Johnny clipped.

I looked back to him to see that he might have lifted his forehead but he was still close.

“That’s Francine and she’s the biggest mouth in Matlock,” he shared.