Page 6 of Wrecked (McIntyre Security Bodyguard #16)

As we navigate the crowded streets of Chicago, I find myself preoccupied with watching Cooper’s hands on the steering wheel.

Even his hands are sexy as hell, roughened and tan.

There’s a smattering of dark hair on the backs of his hands.

His fingers are long, the nails clean and blunt.

His strong forearms are sexy, with visible veins and more of that dark hair.

He steers with his right hand, and his left rests on his thigh. He drives with a casual confidence that turns me on.

I know I’m being ridiculous for mooning over him.

He’s a co-worker, for God’s sake. Hooking up with a co-worker is never a good idea.

And, he’s a superior. If I remember what I read on the company website correctly, Cooper and Shane started the company together after getting out of the military.

It’d probably be against some federal law if I hooked up with him.

It’s not a far drive to this grocery store of his. Cooper pulls into the lot and parks far from the entrance. It looks like we’re getting our steps in.

Without saying a word, we exit the vehicle, and as we’re walking toward the building, he snags an empty shopping cart for me. And damn, if that’s not sexy as well.

I reach for the handle, thinking I should at least push the cart.

“It’s all right,” he says. “I’ve got the buggy. So, what do you need?” Buggy. He’s definitely from the South.

“A little bit of everything, I guess. Food, pop, beer, paper towels, toilet paper. The essentials. Ice cream.”

“Ice cream is an essential?”

“Yes.”

“Do you cook?” he asks.

“Not unless I have to.”

He frowns. “Why not?”

I shrug. “It’s too much effort for just one.”

He bites back a grin. “What do you eat then, if you don’t cook? Do you forage outside for nuts and berries?”

I try not to laugh, but it’s hard. Suddenly, I feel self-conscious. “I eat a lot of fast food, canned stuff, microwavable meals.” I shrug. “Sandwiches. You know. Stuff that doesn’t require much preparation, if any.”

“Your mama didn’t teach you how to cook?”

I bristle at that. “She didn’t have time. She worked tons of overtime just to keep food in the house. My sister and I mostly fended for ourselves.”

“Can you at least do your own laundry?”

“Yes. I learned that in the military.” And that reminds me. “I’ll need laundry detergent.”

His grin widens. “You think so?” He shakes his head. “All right, let’s do this systematically. Follow me.”

Cooper proceeds to lead me through the grocery store, aisle by aisle, pushing the cart as I grab what I need—everything from canned soup to paper towels.

He refrains from commenting when I buy several cans of chili and minestrone, packages of microwaveable ravioli and beef stew.

Macaroni in a box. I pick up dairy items like milk and butter and sour cream.

In the next aisle, beer and pop. In the next, shampoo and laundry detergent.

In the frozen section, I grab two kinds of ice cream and some frozen breakfast sandwiches.

He frowns at the last item. “You know it takes less than five minutes to cook some eggs and pop a slice of bread in the toaster.”

“This is quicker.”

He draws the line when I pick up a package of chocolate chip cookies. He snatches them out of my hands and puts them back on the shelf. “Those taste like cardboard. I’ll make you some.”

I suppress a smile. This means, assuming he keeps his word, I’ll be seeing him again soon.

Next, we come to the meat department. I grab a couple packages of ground beef. “I do like to grill burgers.”

“You got plans for dinner tonight?” he asks offhandedly, not even bothering to look at me.

His question takes me by surprise. “No.”

“When we get back to your place, I can stay and cook you dinner. If you want. I’m sure you haven’t had a homecooked meal since you got to town.

” He nods toward the meat counter. “We could grab some steaks. And we could backtrack to the produce department and get some potatoes. You like mashed potatoes?”

“Yeah.” The guy who can’t decide if he wants to kiss me or not is now offering to cook me dinner? I don’t get it. “That’d be great. Thanks.”

He nods, and the matter is settled. “I’ll need plenty of seasonings.”

After my shopping cart is filled to the brim, we head to the checkout. Cooper’s still pushing the cart, and this feels oddly domestic. As I walk beside him, I feel a strange sensation in my gut, a sort of anticipation. I’m practically giddy, like this is a first date with a guy I’m crazy about.

Only it isn’t a date.

Far from it.

When we’re in line at the check-out, I grab a few candy bars from the rack.

Cooper watches me with a hint of a smile but says nothing.

“What?” I ask, feeling defensive. “It’s chocolate.”

After I pay for my haul, Cooper pushes the cart out to his SUV. He opens the back and starts loading my groceries into his vehicle. I join him, and together we unload the cart.

He likes to take care of people.

This gruff, masculine, dominant man likes to take care of others. And right now, he’s taking care of me .

“Thanks,” I say when we’re done loading the bags into the SUV.

He gazes at me, his blue eyes penetrating deep. “It’s no problem.” He nods to the vehicle. “Get in. I’ll take the buggy back.”

I watch him walk across the parking lot to return the cart, admiring the way he carries himself. The confident swagger. My mouth goes dry at the sight of his ass in a pair of worn blue jeans. Something warm flutters in my belly. I’m already getting hard.

When he gets in the vehicle, I shift in my seat in an effort to hide my growing erection. The last thing I need is for him to know I’m mooning over him.

* * *

Back at the apartment building, Cooper borrows a cart to load my groceries onto so we can take them all up in one trip.

While I put everything away, Cooper starts gathering supplies for dinner.

“Is there something I can do?” I ask.

He gets a big pot out of one of the bottom cabinets and puts it in the sink to fill. “You can wash the potatoes and cut ’em up.” He gestures to the knife rack on the counter. “Grab a knife there, and I’m sure you’ll find a cutting board in one of the drawers.”

While I’m dumping the potatoes into a pot of boiling water, Cooper goes out onto the balcony and lights the gas grill. I watch as he retrieves the steaks, which he already seasoned, and takes them out to the grill.

I join him on the balcony and hand him a cold bottle of beer.

“Thanks.” He glances at the label. “Did you know Goose Island is a local brewery?”

“Yeah. I saw a sign that said it was local, so I thought I’d try it.”

He nods as if he approves.

While the steaks are cooking, Cooper checks on the potatoes. When they’re done, he drains them, adds butter, sour cream, and seasonings, and starts mashing.

“I can do that part at least,” I say. “I’m not completely useless in the kitchen.”

Grinning, he hands me the masher and goes out to get the steaks.

A few minutes later, we’re seated at the small kitchen table. I grab us two more bottles of beer and bring them to the table.

“Man, that smells good,” I say when he places a steak on my plate. Suddenly, I’m starving.

Cooper smiles like I just personally complimented him, which I guess I did. I mean, he’s the cook. “Dig in, kid.”

When I take a bite of my steak, I moan in appreciation. It’s seared to perfection on the outside, tender on the inside. “This is so good! It’s better than most steaks I get at restaurants.”

He smiles. “I’m glad you like it.”

I take a bite of the mashed potatoes. “Why do these taste so good?”

“I used a generous amount of butter and sour cream, as well as garlic powder.”

“Don’t tell my mom I said this, but these are the best mashed potatoes I’ve ever had.”

He takes a swig of his beer, and I swear he’s trying to hide his smile. “My lips are sealed.”

My fork freezes halfway to my mouth when he mentions his lips. I risk a glance at him, and I’m not surprised to find he’s watching me. Did he mention his lips on purpose?

“I hear you have new hire orientation on Monday,” Cooper says.

“Yep. I can’t wait to find out what my first assignment will be.”

“If you need anything, let me know.”

“I will.”

After we finish eating, we clear the table together. He rinses off the dishes, and I put them in the dishwasher.

“Thanks,” I say. “It was an excellent meal.”

He nods. “You’re welcome. Since you like steak, maybe I’ll take you to Tavern on Rush sometime. It’s a steakhouse restaurant nearby. One of the best in the city.”

My heart skips a beat. It almost sounds like a date.

When we’re done cleaning up, he says, “I’d better get going now.”

I walk him to the door. “Thanks again, for everything. For helping me with the grocery shopping. For dinner.”

“No problem.”

Cooper turns to face me, and for a moment, we just stare at each other. But he doesn’t say anything more, and frankly I’m just as confused as before.

When his gaze drops down to my mouth, my stomach clenches hotly, and I’m back to that mental image of me on my knees for him.

God, I want that.

Cooper’s jaw clenches and a muscle tics in his cheek. He’s scowling now as his eyes return to mine. “I’ll drop off the cookies sometime tomorrow.”

“Okay, thanks,” I say, feeling like an idiot. I don’t know how to read him. One minute, I think maybe we’re connecting. The next, he couldn’t be more distant. I’m getting whiplash trying to keep up.

“Goodnight, Sam,” he says as he opens the door and walks out.

“Goodnight, Cooper,” I say to thin air, because he’s already gone.

* * *

After Cooper leaves, I sprawl out on the sofa and watch a movie on TV. Apparently, my apartment comes with free Internet and all the main streaming services.

Nice touch, Shane .

Just as I’m climbing into bed, my phone rings. It’s Rachel.

“Sammy!” she cries excitedly when I answer the phone. “Congratulations on the new job! How’s it going?”

“Everything’s good.” I tell her about the job offer and all the bonuses and perks that come with it.

“Aren’t you a bigshot now,” she says with a laugh. “I’m really going to miss you, Sammy,” she says, sounding more serious now. “I kinda got used to having you around this past year. It was like the old days, you know? When we were kids.”

I can hear the strain in her voice. “I’ll come back to visit as soon as I get a chance. I promise. And I’ve got a swanky new apartment with two bedrooms, so you and Mom are always welcome to come. How is she?”

“She’s fine. She misses you, of course.”

“Is she home?”

“No, sorry. She’s working a double tonight. Someone called in sick, and Mom picked up the extra shift. So, have you met any cute guys?”

I laugh. If only she knew. “No one special yet.”

We chat for a little while longer and then say goodnight and end the call.

Rachel and I have always been close. It was tough on both of us when I left home to join the Army.

After the accident, I came back home and lived the past year with Rachel and Mom.

They’re both nurses and work twelve-hour-shifts, so often they weren’t home.

But when they were, Rachel and I spent a lot of time catching up.

I owe my sister a lot. She was my safety net growing up. I knew I was gay at an early age, and I didn’t try to hide it. That meant I got bullied a lot. Having red hair and freckles didn’t help the situation. They called me the ginger queer.

Rachel didn’t care that I was gay. She loved me anyway. She stood up for me when the other kids bullied me at school. She’s two years older, and she had plenty of friends and an active social life, but she always made time for me.

It was when I got to high school that I started to appreciate older boys.

Especially the rough ones. The dominant ones.

The first time I bottomed was the summer after I turned sixteen.

I gave it up to a senior on the football team, Dane Stevens.

He was a huge linebacker, massive. I was a scrawny kid, so he was easily twice my size, and he had muscles that wouldn’t quit.

Lucky for me, he was a considerate lover, and even though he took the time to prepare me, it still hurt more than I expected. But I didn’t care. I was in heaven. And afterward, he sucked me off because I didn’t come during the deed.

Dane and I hooked up regularly for the rest of the school year, although I’d never call it dating. He never once acknowledged me in public. He was in the closet and didn’t want anyone to know about us. In the spring, he graduated, and later that summer he left for college.

I never heard from him again.

But that was okay. He taught me a lot about what I liked and didn’t like. For the rest of my high school years, I found plenty of other guys to crush on. It was the same situation in the military. We kept pretty hush-hush about our sexuality, but the gay guys could always find each other.

There’s never been anyone special, though. Never anyone who would claim me in public, and say, “Hey, yeah, Sam Harrison is my guy.”

Sighing, I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. I’m trying so hard not to think about a certain silver fox.

Have you ever kissed a man?

Why the hell did he ask me that if he wasn’t intending to follow through with it? He at least owes me a fucking kiss. The problem is, I don’t think one kiss will be enough.

I need to get laid.

The first chance I get, I’m going to scout out the gay clubs in Chicago, and I’m going to find myself a silver fox who’s not afraid to kiss a guy.