Rooter (Double H Romance) (15 page)

Chapter 18
Scary Beary

Miranda is sitting in the recliner, her knees pulled to her chest, staring at Bear like a petrified rabbit waiting to be pounced by a cheetah.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” I whisper to Rooter.

“What?” He whispers back.

“Miranda is scared to death.”

His lip turns up at the corner. “Bear won’t hurt her.”

“I know, but look at her.” I wave in her direction.

Rooter snickers. “She might as well get to know him. He’s my best friend, and he’s going to be around. Besides, I talked to him and told him to be a little less—”

“Scary?” I cut him off.

“I think I used the word intense.”

“I mean, does the guy ever smile or is he pissed off all the time?”

Rooter snorts. “He’s not pissed, Sophie. He’s just a very serious individual.”

That’s an understatement. “I’d say.”

Rooter takes me by the hand. “He’s a good guy, trust me.”

“I do trust you.” I believe him because I can’t imagine the person Rooter chose as his best friend would be anything less than a great person.

“Good.” He checks his watch. “We really need to get going.”

While I believe Rooter, I still need a little peace of mind. “I’ll be right back.” I say and tread toward Bear who’s scrolling on the screen of his smart phone. The closer I get to him, the harder my heart pounds. “Can we talk?”

I lead him to the far end of the dining room. “Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m so thankful for you coming and keeping watch over Miranda, but—” I’m losing my nerve. Man this guy is freaking huge. I’m a tall girl and he makes me feel like a dwarf. I clear my throat and straighten my posture. “Miranda is in a delicate state of mind and you’re kind of…”

He cracks the teeniest hint of a smile. “Intimidating?” He finishes for me.

“Yeah.”

Bear has a nice smile. Maybe if he shaved his beard, he’d look a little less daunting. Then again, maybe not.

“I know. I’m working on it. She’ll be okay, I promise.” He gives me an awkward, closed mouth grin. I find it to be quite endearing.

When Rooter and I enter the living room after my shift at the Grand we find Miranda sitting next to Bear on the sofa, doubled over in laughter. Bear is wearing an amused yet perturbed expression. I spy several bottles of craft beer on the coffee table.

“Oh my God, Sophie, you have to see this!” Miranda slurs and sloppily motions for me to come over to her. “I found out why he never smiles.”

“I think it’s time for me to go,” Bear says, clearly embarrassed and tries to stand up, but Miranda lurches forward and clutches his arm. I expect him to become irritated with her, but he smirks instead.

“Show her,” Miranda whines at him. “It’s so cute.”

Cute? Since when does Miranda think Bear is cute? Rooter laughs behind me.

“See?” Rooter’s voice is barely louder than a whisper. “I told you she’d be okay with him.”

“Show her,” Miranda demands with her hands on her hips. Bear shoots her a stern look, and she changes tactics and bats her pretty, long eyelashes at him and flashes a smile. “Please?”

“Okay,” he relents and shakes his head. In only ten hours, Miranda has wrapped this big bad biker around her pinky finger. There really is no man on the planet immune to her charm. “But you have to make the face,” he tells her.

Miranda makes her funny face where she squishes her cheeks together, crosses one eye and sticks out her tongue. Bear’s mouth spreads into a huge, genuine smile with the straightest, brightest white teeth I’ve ever seen.

Damn! The guy could be in a dental commercial with those puppies. He must whiten them every day. I burst out laughing, Rooter joins me.

“I care about dental hygiene, okay?” Bear grumps which makes the three of us laugh harder.

“Is that seriously why you never smile?” I ask him.

“Yes,” Rooter answers for him and cackles. “The guys all call him Pearl.”

Bear flips him the bird. “I think it’s time to go.”

Miranda is still clinging to his arm, and her smile turns to a frown. “Stay a little while longer,” she begs.

“Can’t,” he says. “I have to be at the shop early.”

“Boo.” She sticks out her bottom lip. “You’re no fun.”

“How did this happen?” I whisper to Rooter.

He shrugs and whispers back, “I have no idea.”

“I’ll come back after work tomorrow,” Bear promises Miranda.

“But who will protect me tonight?”

“Rooter is right next door.” He points at the wall toward Rooter’s house.

“Actually, I’ll be staying here tonight,” Rooter says and I gape at him in surprise. “I’m not leaving you alone until I’m sure this thing with Mike has blown over.”

Before he leaves, Bear helps me get a drunken Miranda upstairs to her room where she once again asks him to stay. Miranda is a lot of things, but easy isn’t one of them. But when she gets drunk, she loses her inhibitions. Luckily, Bear is chivalrous enough to turn down her advances and tells her he’ll see her tomorrow.

Once Bear is gone, Rooter runs to his house to get Dopey and change into something to sleep in giving me a chance to catch up with Miranda. Rooter already brought me up to speed on the issue with Mike. Thankfully, he hasn’t attempted to call Miranda again. Now I want to find out about her day with Bear.

“So, I take it you made a new friend,” I say.

“I think I’m in love.”

I laugh and fall back onto her bed.

She rolls over and looks at me with a wide smile. “He’s not scary Beary anymore.”

“Scary Beary?” I hoot and turn to face her.

“He’s not scary at all,” she slurs. “He’s hot.”

“So what did you two do today?”

“I made dinner for us and Beary helped me wash the dishes. His real name is Max. Maxim. He’s s-so funny Soph. And he took me for a ride on his motor,” she hiccups, “cycle to get ice cream. We watched a movie and drank beers. It was the best date ever.”

“Date?” I raise an eyebrow.

She grins. “Yep.”

“Does he know it was a date?”

“He will soon enough,” she giggles.

“I have no doubt.”

Miranda always gets what she wants and if she still wants Bear after she’s sobered up, he’s in serious trouble.

Rooter appears at the top of the stairs in loose, gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt with Dopey at his side.

“Hey Rooter,” Miranda calls out, drunkenly emphasizing the ooh sound. “Thank you for int-introducing me to my future husband.”

“No problem,” he laughs and takes Dopey into my room.

“Future husband?” Rooter asks after I’ve closed my bedroom door. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed. Dopey is curled up at his feet.

“I think Maxim has created a monster.” Upon hearing my voice the dog jumps up and trots over to me. “Hey boy,” I say and scratch his ear.

“He told her his name?” He asks, shocked.

“Yeah.”

“He doesn’t tell anyone his name.”

Dopey follows me to my dresser as I get a pair of pajamas. I really need to keep up on my laundry. The only clean ones I have left are a tank top and boy short ensemble with a Wonder Woman symbol on the top and stars on the bottoms. A birthday gift from Miranda last year. We both loved Wonder Woman as little girls. It’s either this or wear something dirty from the hamper which is only a slightly worse option.

“Maybe he likes her, too.”

“Evidently.”

“I didn’t see that coming,” I admit.

“Me neither.” He shakes his head and grins.

“I’ll be right back,” I say and go to the bathroom to change into the most embarrassing pair of pajamas anyone could possibly own.

I stand in front of my door, stiff as a board with my hands balled up at my sides, for several long minutes trying to muster the courage to open it and go inside. I can only imagine Rooter’s amusement when he sees me in this ridiculous get up.

Exactly as I suspect, he howls in laughter when he sees me dressed as Wonder Woman. My face goes up in flames.

“They were a gift.”

“Indeed, they are.” His body shakes from his boisterous laughter.

“Shut up.” I smack his arm and nudge him so he’ll make room for me on the bed.

“You’re too cute. Where’s my phone?” He reaches past me to get it from the nightstand.

“No pictures!” I swipe his phone before he can get to it and tuck it underneath me.

“That isn’t going to stop me,” he taunts and reaches under me to get it. We roughhouse and when I fight back, he tickles me.

“Agh!” I squeal. “I give up.” He tickles my side again anyways. “I said I give up!” I arch my back letting him retrieve the device.

A cool wind blows through the window giving me goosebumps. I hear a deep intake of breath and catch Rooter staring at my chest where my chill is evident.

“You cold?” He asks through a strangled voice and backs away.

“A little.” I pull the blankets up around me.

“I’ll close the window.” He reaches over and starts to pull it shut.

“No.” I tug on his arm. “I like it cool at night.”

“You won’t be too cold?”

“No.” I grin. “I like to cuddle in the blankets.”

An eager smile spreads across Rooter’s face and he gets under the covers with me. “Me, too.”

He rolls onto his back and pulls me against his chest. My head lays above his heart and I can hear its thrum, strong and a little fast.

Rooter leans down, presses his face against my head and inhales. “You smell so good.”

There’s no possible way that can be true after being in the kitchen at the Grand all night. “Yeah, like garlic and onion.”

He inhales again. “Sweet, like flowers.”

“I like this,” I admit, drawing circles on his chest with my index finger. I think I feel him shudder but it’s so slight I can’t be sure.

“Me, too.”

“It kind of makes me glad Mike called.”

“Look at me.” His tone is serious making me think I have upset him, but when I look up, his expression is soft. “You never need an excuse to be with me, Sophie. Want me to stay here, ask. Want to stay with me, tell me. Okay?”

Giddy, I smile and my voice shakes when I speak. “Okay.”

“It’s late.” He kisses my forehead. “Let’s get some sleep.”

When I wake up, I’m in fetal position with Rooter’s body enveloping mine. His quiet snores are the only sound in the room. Dopey sits on his hind legs staring at us, patiently waiting to be let out. According to the clock, it’s almost nine.

“Rooter.” I reach back and tap his thigh to wake him up. He grumbles a response and starts snoring again.

I roll out of bed as gently as I can so I don’t disturb him. I can take the dog out on my own. When I hear Rooter move I turn around to see if I woke him. He has rolled over onto his stomach, but he’s still asleep, clutching the pillow. Sun pours in through the window illuminating his muscular back and strong shoulders. The man is simply mouthwatering.
When did he take off his shirt?
I stand a moment, daydreaming about caressing the gorgeous lines of his muscles with my fingertips and am broken from my musing by Dopey pawing at my side.

When I bring Dopey back inside Rooter is standing at the kitchen sink with a glass of water in his hand. He’s still shirtless and his sweatpants are hanging dangerously low on his hips. Fantasies of running my tongue along his perfectly formed V stream through my mind.

“My eyes are up here.” Rooter points at his eyes with his index and middle fingers.

My face catches on fire and I turn away.

“Good morning, babe.” He walks over and pulls me in for a hug.

The skin on his chest is warm against my face. “Good morning,” I squeak.

“Sleep well?”

“Amazing,” I admit.

“Me, too.” He kisses the top of my head. “You’re an excellent spooner.”

“I am?” I’ve never done it.

“The best.”

Visions of him spooning with other women come to mind, and it irritates me. I’m sure he’s had a lot of sex with a lot of women, but I don’t want him comparing me to them. Ever. I might be a great spooner, but being an almost virgin I’m sure I’ll suck at everything else in comparison.

“Coffee,” I grumble and pull away. “Must have coffee. Should I make enough for you?” I ask and measure out the grounds.

He shakes his head. “What are your plans for today?”

I look down at my heavily worn black yoga pants that I dug out of the hamper before letting Dopey out. “Don’t have any plans, but I seriously need to do laundry.”

“That’s cool.” He finishes his glass of water. “We can hang here for a while. I need to run by the shop later. The three of us can grab lunch.”