Only Trick (34 page)

“Hot?” I laugh.

“Yes, hot. As in gloves are off let’s go eight rounds in the ring.”

I bite my tongue. That night after I slammed the door in his face, I was so turned on I could barely think. The tension between us that night, it
was
sexual. I thought it was just me.

After a few minutes of silence, I lean up, kissing the angle of his jaw. “The women, in New York, maybe you were sketching them. Did you ever think of that?”

“Grady did, but I’ve never sketched anyone for money, so that wouldn’t make sense. I mean, I sold my art, but I never did ‘special requests.’”

“Well maybe you did and you just don’t
remember
.”

He kisses the top of my head. “Maybe. Goodnight, sexy.”

I nuzzle into his neck. “Goodnight, I love you.”

D
isoriented. It takes
me a few minutes to piece together where I am and how I got here. Stretching out of my fetal position, I get a whiff of the musty smelling cushion to our makeshift bed. What I’m not seeing, feeling, or smelling is Trick. However, I hear the most inviting sound ever—the ocean. I glance back at the opened door to the veranda, and there he is … inverted on his yoga mat and shirtless. All I can do is stare. The urge to say something or touch him … my God, the urge to touch that body is torturous, but I don’t. This is his time, his thing. Maybe he needs his meditative practice to make sense of the chaos in his life. As I turn toward the kitchen, I see several mangos and bananas on the counter that weren’t there last night. I peel back the skin to the mango, sinking my teeth into its juicy flesh.
Amazing!

“Are you wondering what the hell we’ve done?”

That voice … my nipples respond first. I turn, wiping my chin and sucking juice off my finger.

“Lucky finger.”

Sliding it out of my mouth, I grin, struggling to keep my eyes off his bare chest—muscles, tattoos, and that dark happy trail that in fact makes me
very
happy.

“I feel self-conscious under your scrutinizing gaze.” He pinches nothing but muscle and skin at his waist. “Am I starting to get love handles?”

I giggle. “Yes.”

“What?” He looks up in wide-eyed shock.

I shake my head. “No, not yes to your love handles, yes to what the hell have we done. I didn’t think this was me. I love Chicago … I love my job. Then you came along and everything changed. I left my home and my job with barely a moment’s notice to get on a plane with a guy that I’ve known two seconds. And now we’re here and talking about staying …
forever.
” I laugh. “I still have food in my refrigerator and stuff in my locker at work. This is insane.”

Trick moves toward me with a predatory look in those dark eyes. “How did I change everything?” he asks, pushing me up against the counter, sending me into sensory overload that he does so well.

I wet my lips, craving his touch, his taste … craving
him
in
me
. “You showed me real love
.”

“And now?” He grabs my wrist, bringing my mango to his mouth, taking a bite and licking his lips.

My breath quickens. “And now my favorite place to live is in your arms and my favorite
job
is …” I purse my lips to the side and rub my hand over his erection that’s pressed to my belly.

He smirks, his brow pulling up. “Yeah?”

I nod.

Trick looks at his wrist. “Well, you better get going, sexy. I’d hate for you to be late for work.”

I laugh, pressing my lips to his bare chest and easing my way down to
work.

*

We shower since
my
job
got a little messy, especially after adding the fruit into the mix, which I found out he picked from our front yard. We’re growing mangos and bananas in our front yard!
Yeah, this girl from the Midwest hasn’t wrapped her head around that one yet.

I call Nana and let her know my whereabouts. She asks if I heard about my father’s attack, and I hate myself for lying but I play dumb anyway. I’m still trying to deal with it myself. What am I supposed to say?
Yeah, he busted up my face so Trick paid him a little visit, and I saw the news about it at the airport, but I still chose to leave the country without so much as a phone call to see if he’s okay.

Truthfully, Nana wouldn’t blame me. If she knew she’d probably hire her own hit man to beat the shit out of him. Maybe she’d do it herself. It’s possible she has a black belt in some martial art that I don’t know about. Nana’s not privy to any of the
four
incidents between me and my father. I managed to avoid her after the first two until the evidence was gone from my face, and the third I blamed on falling down the stairs. I cringed after saying those words to her. It’s confusing; I was eighteen when he first hit me so none of it was ever “child abuse.” What was I supposed to do? Have my father arrested for assault because I have a knack for pushing his buttons?

“Does your Nana hate me?” Trick asks as we head to town for … everything.

“Hate you? Why would you ask that?” I glance over at him.

“For stealing you away.”

“I’m sure she’s going to miss me as I will her, but her dream has always been for me to live outside of the box, take chances, do something unexpected. Basically send my father to his early grave.”

Trick stiffens with my last words.

I clear my throat. “And speaking of sending him to an early grave. I have to know … I mean, I didn’t want to at first, but now I do. The gun, the violence, the security cameras you must have disabled … where did you learn all of that?”

“You really want to know?” He glances sideways with peaked brows.

“Yes, well no … I think I
need
to know. Don’t you?”

He shrugs.

“Were you a hit man?”

Trick laughs. “No.”

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

“No … well, I hope not.”

Yeah, that wasn’t a fair question.

“Have you ever shot someone?”

“Yes, but it was self-defense. I just kneecapped him.”

My eyes grow wide. “But were you trying to kill him?”

His head jerks back. “No. I was trying to kneecap him. If I would have been trying to kill him, he’d be dead.”

“So you’re a good shot?” I think I know this from the words that were shared the night I was assaulted outside Trick’s place, but I want to hear it from him.

“Yes.” He sighs like he’s not proud of it. “I joined a gang when I was twelve. The kids were older and taught me a lot. We’d target shoot under the train tracks and in old abandoned buildings. From the moment they put a gun in my hand I could hit any target. I don’t know … I’m gifted in the eye-hand coordination department or something. I think that’s why I can sketch with such accuracy.”

That’s a reality check. While I was in girl scouts learning to tie a fisherman’s knot, Trick was shooting guns with his gang members.

“And the fighting?”

“Survival. It wasn’t really instinctive at first. I got the crap beat out of me on numerous occasions until something inside of me snapped. Then it ended. Never again was I the kid on the bottom getting his face smashed into the ground.”

I did take a self-defense class my freshman year of college, but I was screwing the instructor so I’m not sure I learned much more than he likes it doggie-style every time.

Might keep that bit of information to myself.

“Why a gang? I get the desire to fit in. Lord knows I had it in spades, but weren’t you worried about getting into a situation that could land you in jail or worse?”

Trick pulls into a shopping area. “For me it was safer to belong to a gang than not. Jail wasn’t a concern. At the time it would have meant a bed and three warm meals a day. I’m not saying I never broke the law. Sometimes we stole things to survive, but I didn’t do anything that would have meant years in prison. The guy I kneecapped was trying to steal my parents’ stuff, which wasn’t much, and he had a gun too.” He shuts the car off and looks at me.

I pull my hair back into a ponytail. “I get it. My senior year of high school Tammy Sievers stole my purse from the locker room. I could never prove it, but the bitch did it so I keyed her car … both sides.”

The lip twitches as humor dances in his eyes. “You were a real badass.”

I grab my purse and open the door. “Damn right I was. Now
come
.”

*

We’ve landed ourselves
in an art lover’s oasis. Trick lights up every time we pass an art gallery or a shop with local handcrafted goods.
Job? What job? Chicago? Where’s that?
This sleepy town nestled amongst desert, mountains, and ocean makes Chicago seem like a social migraine. I hear no sirens or honking horns and the people here move at a snail’s pace, because really … what’s the hurry?

“Okay, so we’ve ordered furniture, our mattress will be delivered later today—”

“And we will test it out immediately,” Trick interrupts.

I tug his hand toward a small shop that looks like it carries linens. “Yes, all this shopping has tuckered me. We’ll need a nap for sure.”

Trick jerks me back into his arms. My sundress rides up my legs as he palms my ass. “We’d better stop for some caffeine, then, because we won’t be sleeping on that mattress anytime soon.” He rubs his nose against mine then nips at my bottom lip with a low growl.

“Down, boy. Tourists are watching.”

“Well then let’s give them a show.”

I shove my hands in the back pockets of his ripped, frayed jeans and kiss the line of his jaw. “So should we do it against the side of the building or on the trunk of our new car?”

With one hand he holds me as a shield to him while he adjusts himself with his other hand. “Fuck, stop! You’re giving me a hard-on.”

I continue to kiss along his jaw and down his neck. “Last I knew that’s a requirement for public fornication.”

“Get in the store and stop teasing me.” He grabs my arms, turns me around, and nudges me forward.

“You started it.”

After we get towels and sheets, we decide to head back
home
. Another jolt to my brain,
home
. We’re going to live here together for … well, as long as we want. Insane.