Page 15
Story: Hot as Hell
Backing into his driveway he surveyed his surroundings. His place was in a great neighborhood, but that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t be lurking. School was out for spring break, which meant kids would be searching for an easy way to make money.
Dropping the kickstand, he gave Charlie his hand to help her stay steady until both feet were on the pavement. Climbing offthe bike, he grabbed her pack from the saddlebag and tossed in the spare helmet she’d been wearing. Carrying his own, he led her to his humble abode.
As soon as he opened the door, doubts hit. His place wasn’t the Four Seasons, it wasn’t the Motel Eight either. It lacked… personality. At least downstairs did. Downstairs things were dull. Beige walls and brown furniture. He spent little time downstairs when he was there. So it had made sense to start remodeling upstairs first. If she had a problem with it, she could go back to the hotel.
“Come on in, let me give you the tour.”
He tossed his keys and wallet in the wooden bowl on the entry table like always, then hit the lights for the kitchen and living room. “The kitchen’s not huge, but it’s got everything you might need. There’s food in both the fridge and the pantry. Help yourself.” This is the living room, the remote’s on the table. I’ve got all the channels and then some.”
He walked farther into the kitchen and opened the freezer taking out an ice pack for her face. He opened a drawer and pulled out a clean dishtowel and wrapped it around the ice pack. They didn’t need her to get frostbite. Handing it to Charlie, he continued the tour.
Taking the icepack from Hemlock, she placed it against her face, which was throbbing like a son of a bitch. “You have a nice place.” She managed without sighing. The coolness of the towel wrapped ice pack felt wonderful.
“Yeah. I like it.” He didn’t miss the relief that washed over her pretty face when the cold pack rested against it.
He led her out of the kitchen. “This is the living room, the remote’s on the table. I’ve got all the channels and then some.”
“Where am I staying?” Charlie asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“Upstairs and to the left. There’s a bedroom and bathroom with your name on it,” he told her, pointing towards the stairs.
“I won’t be a problem. I promise,” she replied. What else was there to say?
Charlie pointed towards the stairs and watched as Hemlock motioned her go ahead. When she reached the top of the stairs, it was as if she stepped into a different place. The walls were a deep navy blue with no decorations adorning them.
When she walked into the bedroom, she sucked in her breath. The walls were the darkest shade of gray she’d ever seen. The queen size bed was covered in a thick oatmeal colored comforter that appeared to be stuffed with fluff. It was so puffy and a mix-matched set of throw pillows in shades of oranges, grays, and creams were stacked against a black leather headboard. Two pictures hung above it. It took her a minute to decipher what they were... waves she realized. Waves in shades of black and orange tones. “Those are cool.”
Holding onto her backpack she moved across the floor and found the bathroom just as intimidating. Blacks, grays, and oatmeal colors made up the pallet of color. “There are towel’s, and wash cloths, in the cabinet.” Hemlock’s deep voice startled her, making her jump. “Thanks. The upstairs is gorgeous. Well, this side anyway.”
“Would you like to see my room?” His voice against her ear had Charlie swallowing hard as she licked her lips. “Not tonight.”
“Another time then,” Hemlock said, snickering. “I’ve got a few rules.”
“Shoot.”
Moving aside so Charlie could go into the bedroom, he gave her the rules. “No guest. No food or drinks upstairs other than water. Clean up your own messes. Do not leave wet items on the wood floors.” He sighed, thinking if there was anything else. “Make sure to not leave laundry in the washer or dryer.”
“I can handle all of that. Where is the laundry room?”
“Downstairs bathroom.”
“Got it.”
“I’ll leave you to get unpacked.”
“Hemlock.” She bit her bottom lip as she stared up at him. His smile alone made her nervous. Add in those eyes. God, she could drown in the hazel depths.
“Yes, Charlie?”
“Would you have a t-shirt I could borrow? My pj’s were shredded.”
Hemlock stared at her. What was he supposed to say, no? What he wanted to say was, “you can sleep naked next to me.” Instead, he smiled, then said, “I’m sure I’ve got something you can sleep in. Wait here.”
He’d given her the ten-cent tour of the house, given her something to sleep in and laid down the rules where there wouldn’t be any issues.But there would be issues. There were always issues when it came to women.
Hemlock left her at the condo to settle in and get some rest. He rode out to Truck’s place for some solid advice. The brother would settle him down.
Pulling into the driveway, the light from the lamp on his bike illuminated the small garage apartment. He missed living there. Missed having dinner every night with Truck. The man had been a father figure and a big brother rolled into one when he had had no one else. He’d been a scrawny kid living on the streets when he stumbled upon the Royal Bastards’ clubhouse.
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