Page 36 of The Right Garza

Trent:You can take a nap on me *wink emoji*

Trent:Be there in 20

Bossy jerk.Still, I straighten from the couch and walk on the back of my heels upstairs to my room to change out of my jammies, because the truth is, I haven’t been off these grounds in over a week. I’ve been so consumed with doing whatever I can to get this right that I haven’t stopped for anything else except to eat and sleep. So, I quite like the idea of going out for a drive.

After I’ve successfully donned leggings and a crop-top without smudging my nail polish, I heel it to Maggie’s room and rap my knuckles against the door.

“No need to knock, Lexi.”

I push it open. She’s lying belly-down on the bed in nothing but her panties with her laptop open in front her. I’ve no idea what her beef is with clothes, but this girl despises them.

“I’m heading out for a bit.”

She eyes my casual wear. “Tell me you’re not going out on a date in that?”

“Date?” I guffaw. “No, it’s just stupid Trent. He’s bored on the job and wants me to keep him company for a bit.”

She gives me a look. “Is ‘keeping him company’ part of the debt repayment as well?”

“He wouldn’t take no for an answer, and all he does is boss me around now that I owe him, so, it would seem so.”

“Hmm,” she hums with a smile.

“‘Hmm’ what?” I ask. “What’s that look on your face mean?”

“What look?” she says, all innocent.

“Whatever.” I wave her off and start to close the door. “He’s Trent.Your ex. And a giant pain in my ass. Nothing more.”

“If you say so,” she sings, right before the door clicks shut.

~

Twin lights beamthrough the darkness as Trent’s jeep creeps up the driveway. He has his own fob for the gate, plus, with the newest security upgrade, full control of the property through a synced app on his phone, so unlike everyone else, I don’t have to wait by the monitor to let him in.

Unwrapping a Juicy Fruit, I amble down the steps and meet the jeep before it’s even fully stopped. After I’ve slipped the gum in my mouth, I stuff the wrapper in my mini crossbody purse then yank the jeep door open and hop in.

Trent sniffs, his angular features casted in the faint glow of lights from the dashboard. “Is that Juicy Fruit?”

“Bloodhound,” I mutter as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Can’t believe you still chew that. Diabetes in a wrapper,” he says, driving off. “Give me one.”

“Only you would knock something then beg for it in the same breath.”

I fetch one from my purse, unwrap it, then hold it up to his mouth. He takes it his teeth and his tongue darts out to help it in the rest of the way. And I spend longer than I should staring at his lips. They’re so full, and firm, and…

Clearing my throat, I drag my gaze away and stare straight ahead. He’sTrent, for crying out loud. I’ve no business leering at his lips.

“I don’t understand,” I say, “how are you bored working? I thought Red Cage was all action and thrill and badassery.”

“Sometimes,” he replies. “But not all the time. A lot of the times it’s mind-numbingly quiet. Lots of stakeouts, bugging and listening, or hiding in plain sight to get what we need.”

“And what’s tonight?”

“Gathering evidence on a cheating wife.”

“Seriously? Dude,Icould do that.”