Page 25

SINCLAIR

“It’s pretty here. Ashton would love it. He could find you a waterfall to bathe in while he drew you looking all wet and sexy.”

Zoey laughs down the phone as I sit in the passenger seat of Denver’s car and gaze out of the window as we drive.

Monty sighs happily from his position in the backseat where he’s curled up on Denver’s sweater again.

I roll my eyes. Denver’s probably rubbed corned beef smell over it to get him to like it or something.

“Well, don’t get too comfortable there. I miss you, and we want you home. Mikey was asking after you. And Brad was too when I bumped into him.”

“Brad?”

I steal a glance at Denver as he drives. His jaw is set with his mouth in a grim line.

“Yeah,” Zoey says. “I ran into him getting coffee this morning. He was with a girl. They looked cozy.”

“Really?” I bite my lower lip, wondering who she could be. Brad’s never mentioned a girlfriend before. Maybe she’s just a new client he’s going to work with.

The trees lining the road start to thin out and glimpses of rooftops start to peek through.

“Zoey, I’ve got to go. We’re almost there. I love you. I’ll call again, okay?”

I squint through the windscreen, wondering where ‘there’ is as Zoey says she loves me too and hangs up.

“Thanks.” I hold Denver’s phone out to him after he parks the car on a patch of dirt that’s supposed to represent a parking lot.

“You’re welcome. Do you feel better now that you’ve spoken with her?”

“Uh-huh,” I reply, frowning at the tiny rundown store through the windscreen. “You’re not always an asshole. I appreciate you lending me your phone.”

“Not always?”

I flick my eyes to him as he sits relaxed in the driver’s seat, his face straight as he looks at the store as well.

“That’s what I said. Of course, if you hadn’t broken my SIM card in half, or turned off the Wi-Fi, then you might even progress to ‘barely ever an asshole’.”

“I see,” he says, still looking out of the windscreen. “I guess ‘barely ever’ would be an improvement.”

“It would,” I agree. “Are we going in?”

“We are,” he replies, his attention traveling to a small blue pick-up that’s parked nearby.

“Great,” I say with fake enthusiasm as I reach for the door handle.

Denver’s head whips to the side like he has a sixth sense for what I’m doing.

“I told you,” he grits, leaning across me and grabbing my hand before it reaches the handle. “When you’re with me, I do that.”

I study the tense line in his brow as he stays inside my space, his large body crowding mine as my fingers remain wrapped inside his.

“Won’t that look suspicious here?” I ask, my breath fanning over his cheek and causing a muscle in it to clench.

“What? A man looking after his girl? If anything, it’s more expected out here in the country. Just because folk work with their hands here, doesn’t mean they don’t know how to be gentlemen.”

He moves back quickly and exits the car, walking around the hood. He’s wearing jeans and a black T-shirt today. A look I’ve never seen on him. It’s like the Hulk met Hollister and had a giant muscly baby.

It suits him.

I take his hand as he helps me from the car.

“Am I then?”

“Are you what?” A line forms between his brows and he frowns.

“Your girl? For the purpose of our cover, I mean?”

The line deepens and a perverse satisfaction heats inside me. I might not make him hard when we fight. But I know how to piss him off.

“Let’s get what we need,” he grunts, opening the rear door for Monty to jump out.

We walk across the dirt toward the store with Denver’s hand resting on the base of my spine like it does when we’re in the city surrounded by people. But there’s no danger here. The store is deserted as we walk in and a rusty old bell chimes over our heads.

Denver looks around like he’s casing out the place before his shoulders soften a little.

“Go and grab what you want for yourself and Monty. I’ll come and find you in a minute.”

“What if we get lost? There’s probably another realm back there,” I tease, widening my eyes as I gesture to aisles that stretch on surprisingly far, spilling over with random cans and packets.

He shakes his head with a hint of a curl to his lips. “I’ll have my eyes on you, Sinclair. Now go.”

I pick up a plastic basket from a stand and wander off happily down the first aisle with Monty.

“What do you fancy, baby? Steak? Some eggs? I know you like scrambled eggs for breakfast. How about some smoked salmon too?”

Monty trots along happily beside me as I toss things into my basket. I stop at a display of syrups, running my finger along the glass bottles until I find the one I’m looking for.

“We don’t want him having any more reasons to be so surly all the time,” I tell Monty as I add the vanilla syrup to my haul.

I glance up and my eyes meet Denver’s over the top of the low shelving. He’s standing, talking to the shop owner, a small, kind-looking man with glasses. He says something to the man that makes him chuckle, but his eyes remain on me.

“He’s not funny,” I whisper, blowing out a confused breath.

Monty and I head up the next aisle and I take my time looking at the fruit, hovering where I can hear what Denver and the man are talking about.

“She’s strong,” Denver says.

My ears prick up and I pick up a melon giving it a squeeze as I pretend to study it.

“She’s coped with it really well. I’m so proud of her.”

Warmth fills my chest at the admiration in Denver’s voice.

“He’s proud,” I whisper to Monty, raising my brows. Monty stares back, his tail wagging. I bite my lip to stop a stupid smile forming on my face. I don’t care what Denver thinks about me. But it’s always nice to receive a compliment.

“Dixie’s a treasure. Bring her in next time she’s with you.”

“I will,” Denver replies.

I place the melon back down, the warmth in my chest moving to my cheeks in humiliation. Thank god he’s too far away to see. Of course he’s not talking about me. He’s talking about Dixie, the almost seven-year-old that he has photos of all around his cabin.

His eyes are on me as I glance up, but I turn and stroll back down the aisle in the opposite direction.

I recognize what I heard in his voice now. The admiration. The pride. The love.

All the same sounds that Sullivan has when he talks about Molly.

Dixie’s Denver’s daughter. But I don’t get why he never talks about her to me. We’re together all the time. I sigh as I wander around the store, my enthusiasm gone.

Denver’s no longer at the cash register when I walk up to it and place my basket down.

“Having a feast?” The old man chuckles as he starts ringing everything up and placing it into a brown paper bag for me.

“My dog is.” I gesture to Monty, and the man leans over the counter, peering down at him.

“That a wool sweater?”

I lift my chin in preparation to defend Monty’s wardrobe choices.

“No, it’s fleece.”

The man purses his lips. “Our cat doesn’t like wool, makes him itch. He’s one of them hairless ones. My wife can’t stand the shedding.” He scrubs a hand around his jaw. “Fleece, you say?”

“It’s really soft. Monty likes it.” I lift Monty up so the man can see.

He fusses Monty, admiring his outfit.

“I’ll bring you a couple next time Denver and I come in,” I say, giving him a bright smile.

“That’s kind of you…?”

“Sinclair,” I say, kissing Monty on the head as I hold him.

“Sinclair.” The old man’s eyes crinkle. “I’m Buck. It’s nice to meet one of Denver’s friends.”

“Does he not have many?” I giggle.

Buck chuckles, wagging a finger at me. “I can see why he likes you, young lady. Bet you keep him on his toes.”

“Where else would I want him?” I reply, happily, watching Buck as he bags up my groceries, his eyes moving to something behind me.

I turn and spot the source of his attention. Denver’s talking with a woman with bright pink lipstick and a laugh that has a weird screechy pitch to it. She touches his forearm as he says something to her.

“Excuse me,” I say to Buck.

Denver’s voice is low as I get closer. “Georgia, now’s not a good time.”

“It’s been too long, Denny,” she purrs, stroking his arm. “I know we’re not… dating, but we have fun together when you’re here. Don’t you miss me?”

His response is so quiet that I can’t hear it, but whatever it is, it makes Grabby Georgia take her hand off him and pout.

“Hey.” I beam, coming to stand right beside him. “Who’s your friend, Denny?”

I blink up innocently and Denver’s eyes darken as he looks down at me.

I smile brightly at the woman. Her attention is fixed on Monty in my arms, so I step closer. “He’s really friendly. Do you want to stroke him?”

“Is that…? Is that a piglet from the farm? I thought they drowned the wrong ones at birth.” She stares at Monty, her face screwed up in disgust.

I pull him close to my body, sucking in a sharp breath. “They drown them? God, that’s barbaric.”

“It’s nature, Sweetie,” Georgia replies, still eyeing Monty like he could be riddled with disease. “And it can be cruel.”

“So can dating in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, I imagine,” I snap, rubbing Monty’s ear reassuringly.

Georgia looks up at me. Her eyes assess me with the same distaste she gave Monty.

“I’ve not seen you around here before.”

She glances at Denver, then back at me. I lean a little closer to him and smile as her eyes narrow and she purses her over made-up lips. An ugly pink matching her ugly words.

“Oh. It’s my first time here. I’m Sinclair, Denny’s girl,” I say, batting my eyelashes up at him like I think he’s the most amazing man I’ve ever laid eyes on. “We’re here on a romantic break. Aren’t we, baby ?” I coo.

Denver’s brows lower and he stares at me like he’s going to make me pay during our training later. But my muscles are already aching. He can’t make them any worse.

“All the forest, the privacy. It’s so fun!” I widen my eyes with a giggle, looking back at Georgia.

She scowls at me, then focuses an accusing glare on Denver. I balance Monty in one arm and slap Denver’s butt playfully with the other one. He stiffens, clearing his throat.

I’ve got to give it to him; he really is good at the whole poker face thing. He didn’t even flinch. I keep my hand on his ass and squeeze a muscular chunk of it inside my palm.

He’ll thank me later.

“You almost done, baby?” I pout. “I’m going to go and pay for our stuff.”

I throw a fake smile in Georgia’s direction and spin on my heels. Her low hiss starts the second I walk away toward the cash register.

“You have a girlfriend now? Since when?”

“I—”

“Who is she?” she interrupts Denver, making my spine prickle with irritation.

“She’s someone I’ve known a long time,” he says.

Georgia huffs. “Well, is it serious?”

His answer is muffled by Buck’s sigh as he looks at the black Amex I’m holding out to him.

“Sorry, cash only. Machine’s busted again.”

“Oh. Um.” I reach into the back pocket of my jeans like I’ll find a hidden stash of money. But I only brought my card. I only ever need my card. And sometimes I don’t even need that. I have accounts at all my favorite stores in the city and they just send a bill each month.

The bell above the door chimes loudly as I give Buck a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’ll have to leave everything?—”

“Here, Buck.” Denver passes him a fold of bills as he steps up behind me, his large body like a furnace against my back.

“What was that?” he grits quietly as Buck opens the register.

“What was what?” I glance up at him. His jaw is rigid. I swear his teeth are in real danger of cracking, given the way he’s clenching it so hard.

He inhales slowly as we thank Buck. Denver carries our groceries in one arm as I place Monty onto the floor, and we head outside.

“You know what,” he says as we walk toward his car.

“I was just making friends.”

Georgia’s opening up the blue pick-up truck that Denver was looking at earlier. I wave at her, but she’s too busy recoiling at Monty walking alongside me to notice.

“She seems…” I narrow my eyes. “She seems awful. You could do so much better. I did you a favor.”

Denver places the grocery bag on the roof of his car. “A favor?”

“Yeah. She supports the drowning of piglets. Didn’t you hear her? What else would she think is okay?”

I stare at Georgia who’s still looking at Monty like she wants to snatch him up and dispose of him herself. My stomach tightens at the memory of someone trying to take him. And how Denver saved him. He opens the rear door, lifting Monty onto the back seat with care.

Something ignites in my gut as Georgia climbs into her truck but keeps staring at us. She rolls down her window as she drives toward us, as though she’s going to say something to Denver. Whatever it is, it’s not going to be useful to him if it’s coming out of her mouth.

I grab the front of his T-shirt, leaning close. His brow furrows as I place my finger to his lips.

“Trust me,” I purr.

I wait until Georgia’s pulling up alongside us, then I crush my mouth to his.