Rastor (Lawton Rastor Book 2) (14 page)

A half-hour later, we were holding hands over dinner. I gazed at her across the table, wondering how I'd gotten so damn lucky. We hadn't made it official, but the way it looked, we were back together.

If I had my way, we were going to
stay
together.

"So," I said, "tell me about your brother. You said he's pretty smart, huh?"

She gave me a sheepish smile. "Oh come on, you don't want to hear about that."

She was wrong. I did. If I had my way, he'd my brother too someday. Or brother-in-law. Whatever they called it. Either way, he was important to Chloe, so he was important to me.

But that wasn't the only reason I wanted to hear about him. On that night we'd first met, after she'd practically scraped me off the hospital sidewalk, she'd talked a lot about Josh. I might not have looked it, but I'd been listening.

Back then, family was a funny thing for me. My mom was a druggie, and my dad was a guy I barely knew. I loved my sister, and I loved my grandma, but even those relationships weren't always easy – because the more I loved them, the more I worried for their safety.

But Chloe, she'd grown up in a different world. I wanted to hear more about it.

I grinned over at her. "So, uh, you hiding something? Don't tell me he's flunking out?"

"Of what?" She laughed. "Seventh grade?"

I shrugged. "Hey, it happens."

"Oh stop it. He's in the gifted program." She gave a playful eye-roll. "And no, he's not flunking out."

"So tell me about him," I said.

And so she did. Some of the stuff I knew. Other things, I didn't. He played the oboe and was on the math team. He liked the Detroit Red Wings and was a picky eater.

"I can relate," I said.

"To which part?" she asked.

"Well, I sure as hell can't play the oboe." I smiled across the table. "I'm talking about the eating thing."

"You?" She was laughing again. "A picky eater? Oh, please."

"Well, I hate seafood."

She shuddered. "Don't we all?"

Not as far as I'd seen. Other than Chloe, almost everyone else I knew loved it. But me, I hated it for a good reason, and it wasn't one I liked to talk about.

I was a guy who'd been punched, kicked, and called just about every name in the book. Sure, I had some scars, but most of it just bounced off me. But when it came to shellfish, I was allergic as hell, as I'd found out the hard way a few years earlier.

The way the doctors talked, I'd almost died. But I liked to think of it differently. I hadn't died. And now I knew that I hated seafood for a damn good reason.

Superman had kryptonite. Me? I had seafood. Talk about embarrassing.

I changed the subject. "How about Erika?"

"What about her?" Chloe asked.

"The way you talk, she sounds kind of wild." I made a show of lowering my voice. "What's the worst thing she talked you into?"

"Hey," Chloe said in a teasing tone, "maybe
I
was the one talking
her
into stuff."

Now,
that
was interesting. "Were you?" I asked.

"I wish." Her tone grew more serious. "Nah, I was always focused on other stuff, you know?"

I didn't know. But I wanted to. "Like what?"

She waved away the question. "Okay, you wanna know the worst thing she talked me into?"

I leaned forward. "What?"

Chloe gave an embarrassed laugh. "Getting my belly-button pierced."

I felt my gaze drift downward. I couldn’t see Chloe's belly-button, not through the table, but suddenly, I wanted to. Her skin was smooth, and she had the cutest belly-button. "Yeah?" I said, feeling the corners of my mouth lift. "Is it still pierced?"

She laughed. "You know the answer to that. No."

"You sure? I could check."

"You could," she said, "but we'd probably get kicked out of here."

It was a risk I willing to take. Looking at her, I couldn’t stop smiling.

Best of all, she was smiling back. She was still smiling when she asked, "What are you so happy about?"

I could've said a million things. I was happy because I loved her. I was happy because the look in her eyes told me she loved me too. I was happy to have a second chance. And hey, if that chance involved checking out her belly button, who was I to complain?

I leaned closer and said, "You didn't say I couldn't check,
ever
. You just said I couldn’t check
now
."

Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were sparkling. She was leaning closer too. In a voice filled mischief, she said, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Instantly, the blood went straight to my groin. I glanced down at the table. It looked pretty sturdy. I wanted to shove aside the dishes and show her lots of things, right here, right now.

But we weren't alone. So all I said was, "Promise?"

She gave a happy nod. "Promise."

Before we left, I leaned in close, ignoring the dirty plates and empty glasses. "Tell me something."

Her gaze was locked on mine, and when she answered, her voice was almost breathless. "What?"

"Are you still my girl?"

She was smiling again. When she nodded yes, I couldn’t stop myself. I practically dove across the table and wrapped my arms tight around her. People were staring. I didn't care. I pulled her close and spoke into her ear. "Baby, I promise you. You're not gonna regret this."

As for me, I had two regrets. One, she had to work tonight. Two, I was flying to Vegas first thing tomorrow morning.

But those regrets were nothing. When I returned, things were going to be different. Chloe and I would have a new start, and this time, I'd make sure to do things right.

Driving back from the restaurant, I still couldn't stop smiling, and I didn't bother to hide it. But just before we pulled into Chloe's driveway, she told me something that
didn't
make me happy.

I pulled into her driveway and stopped the car. From the driver's seat, I turned to look at her. "What'd you just say?"

Chloe gave a weak laugh. "From the look on your face, I think you heard me just fine."

I
did
hear her. I just didn't want to believe it. "Are you serious?"

"Yup." Chloe sighed. "She starts tonight actually."

I leaned back in my seat and muttered, "I'm gonna kill her."

The
her
was Brittney. Somehow, she'd gotten herself hired as a waitress where Chloe worked.

I'd been to that restaurant. The waitresses were all insanely beautiful, and did more than simply deliver food and drinks. They had attitude and flaunted it by teasing the customers with mock bad service that somehow, managed to still be pretty good.

Supposedly, it was harder than hell to get hired there. How had Brittney done it so fast?

But then I recalled something Chloe had mentioned during Brittney's failed apology attempt – something about Brittney boning Chloe's boss in the parking lot.

Well, that was one way to get hired.

Chloe lowered her voice to a mock whisper. "When you kill her, can I help?"

Obviously, she was kidding. But I wasn't, not that I was planning to kill her or anything. But one way or another, I'd handle this – I hesitated – assuming that's what Chloe wanted.

Thanks to my other mistakes, I was walking on egg shells and didn't want to screw up anything else. So I did the polite thing and asked, "You want me to take care of it?"

Chloe gave me a doubtful look. "How?"

I shrugged. "However." If nothing else, I could always bribe her. 

"Nah, that's alright," Chloe said. "It's not really a big deal."

But from the look on her face, I wasn't convinced.

"Sure you don't want me to talk to her?" I asked, wanting to insist, but trying to play it safe.

She gave me a smile that melted my heart. "I'm sure."

I loved that smile. I loved
her
. And now, I had to leave. I hated that. "I don't wanna let you go," I admitted.

"You mean to work?" she asked.

I leaned toward her. "I mean anywhere." I wrapped her in my arms and kissed her like I meant it, because I
did
mean it. I was going to be out of town almost a week, and I wanted like hell to drag her back to my place and do a whole lot more than kiss.

When our tongues met, she gave a muffled moan against my lips. My pulse throbbed, and my jeans grew tight.

Forget bribing Brittney. I should bribe Chloe to ditch work tonight, or better yet, ditch it forever. But I remembered my promise. No matter what, I wouldn’t make her late.

Damn it.
If I couldn't keep a small promise, how would she trust me with the big stuff?
Don't screw this up.

When she pulled away, I didn't argue. She looked toward the house and suddenly smiled. I looked too, and saw Chucky peering out through the curtains.

I had to laugh. "Our chaperone."

"Yeah." Chloe sighed with obvious regret. "I've gotta go."

"I was afraid of that."

She leaned into me and asked, "When do you fly out?"

"Tomorrow morning. Six o'clock."

"So early?" she said.

I nodded. "Are you sure don't wanna come with me?" I leaned my forehead against hers. "Tell ya what, you don't even have to wake up. I'll carry you onto that plane myself."

She laughed. "I wish. But I've got Chucky. And work."

"When I get back, we'll have to talk about that." I lowered my voice. "And just so you know, I want to do a whole lot more than talk."

Her voice was all kinds of sexy when she said, "Me, too."

A few hours later, just before dawn, I was on the plane, heading for Vegas. The timing sucked. I didn't want to go anywhere, not without Chloe. But the Vegas thing – one of several mixed martial events in a global series – had been in the works for months, technically years, since it was an annual thing.

For these events, I delegated a lot, but there were some things – personal appearances mostly – that I couldn’t farm out, not without damaging the brand. So I just had to suck it up and count the days until I returned.

While in Vegas, I called Chloe every night, taking advantage of the time-zone difference to catch her when she got off work.

Midnight in Vegas was three o'clock in the morning in Michigan. It was an obscene hour for most people, but not for Chloe. For her, three o'clock was early, thanks to her work schedule. In a way, I was lucking out. Usually, her shifts didn't end until nearly dawn.

Still, the phone calls weren't enough. By Friday morning, I was going crazy missing her, which is why late that afternoon, I was headed back to Michigan.

I couldn't stay long, but it would be long enough to see Chloe, and that's all that mattered. I was already on the plane when I called to tell her. There was only one problem. For some reason, she didn't sound happy to hear from me.

Something was bothering her. I heard it in her voice from the moment she answered with a tense, "Hello?"

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing."

I paused. "Alright."
Something
was off. The way it sounded, she was driving. Maybe that was it. I pushed aside the distraction and asked, "Got any plans for tonight?"

"Not really. Why?"

"Because I've gotta be honest. I couldn't wait to see you."

At this, she perked up. "You came back early?"

"You might say that."

She laughed. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I'll be landing in a couple hours. I've got to be back in Vegas tomorrow morning, but I remembered you had tonight off, so–"

"So you want to get together?" She was smiling now. Even through the phone, I could tell.

It made me smile, too. "Yeah."

I wanted her in my arms and in my bed. I wanted to screw her silly and hear her moan my name as I did all kinds of obscene things to her. Last night, I'd actually masturbated in the shower to naked thoughts of her hot, tight body, and the things I'd be doing to it the next time we were together.

I wanted that to be tonight.

But there was something else I wanted – to tell the whole world she was mine. She wasn't my secret thing, to hide in my house until I wanted her in my bed. And she wasn't a groupie, a hanger-on, or a quick fuck for a night or two.

She was the girl I loved, and it was time to start acting like it. "But listen," I said, "no more hiding out in secret. You're my girl, and from now on, I'm doing things right. How about I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Sounds good. But hey, what should I wear?"

"What kind of night are you in the mood for?" I asked. "Casual, formal?"

"How about casual?"

"Casual, it is." I lowered my voice. "And Chloe?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't care what you wear. I'm dying to see you."

A few hours later, she was in my car – and not the rough-looking one that we'd taken the other day. I was driving one of my sports cars that
never
blended. It was fast. It was flaming orange. And so far, I hadn't seen another one like it in Rochester Hills.

The car got attention, and tonight, that was fine by me, because I wanted the whole world to take a good, long look and see that Chloe was mine. If I had my way, she'd be mine forever.

From the driver's seat, I gave her a sideways glance. Whatever had been bothering her earlier, I saw no sign of it. I chalked it up to traffic or whatever and focused on the fact that she was right here, within arm's reach.

She was dressed in jeans and a clingy white blouse that looked innocent and sexy all at the same time. She hit me with a smile that went straight to my groin. "You know," she said, "I just realized something."

"Yeah? What?"

"I've never seen anyone fly home just for one night. Especially to see
me
." She hesitated. "I mean, it's not like you came home
just
to see me. It's just that you came a long way for a short time." She cleared her throat. "You know?"

I turned off the road, and into a nearby parking lot. I pulled into a random spot and cut the engine. Chloe looked around. We were just outside some strip mall that had a bunch of offices and a takeout pizza place.

Her gaze landed on the pizza sign. "So, uh, is that where we're eating?"

I laughed. "Not a chance." I liked pizza as much as the next guy, but I hadn't flown across the country to take my girl to some cheap pizza joint.

"Then why'd we stop?" she asked.

"Because I've got to tell you something."

Her brow wrinkled. "What?"

I looked into her eyes and said, "I came home for just
one
reason, and her name is Chloe Malinski."

She gave me a slow, sultry smile. "Really?"

I leaned toward her and kept my voice very low. "Really."

Before I knew it, her lips were on mine. I pulled her close and kissed her like it was our last night on Earth. I was hard and ready, and the way it sounded, she was just as eager as I was. I felt her hands on the back of my neck, and her soft curves pressing up against my hard chest.

Clothes – we were wearing too damn many of them. I wanted to drag us both into the back seat for a pre-dinner appetizer of the naked kind. Trying like hell to behave myself, I ran a hand through her hair, loving how it felt as it sifted through my fingers while my tongue probed hers and our lips moved hungrily against each other.

This wasn't why I'd pulled over, but I sure as hell wasn't complaining. I had dinner reservations in a half-hour and some other plans after that. None of those plans involved screwing Chloe in some parking lot – as tempting as that sounded.

I'd learned a few lessons the hard way. One of those lessons was the fact that these days, cameras were everywhere. Shit, everyone had a cell phone, right? There was no way in hell
anyone
would be seeing Chloe's naked body on the internet.

Even when it came to looking, I wasn't going to share. She was mine. And only mine.

Just thinking of it made me smile against her lips. Tonight, I decided, I'd be smiling against her other lips. As soon as we got back, I was going to lick her all night long if that's what it took to make her totally lose it.

I was still kissing her when I heard a tap on the driver's side window. With a little jump, Chloe pulled back, and I turned to look. Standing just outside the window were a couple of teenagers, two guys, maybe fifteen or sixteen. They were grinning down at us. One of them was holding a pizza box.

The one who wasn't holding the box motioned for me to roll down the window.

I glanced over at Chloe.

"Be careful," she teased. "They look dangerous."

Yeah, right. We were still in Rochester Hills, and these guys looked about as dangerous as puppies. I rolled down the window and said, "Yeah?"

The nearest one said, "You're Lawton Rastor." He leaned around to look at Chloe. "Isn't he?"

Chloe turned to give me a long, speculative look. "Hmmmm…he definitely
looks
like him."

The kid's eyebrows furrowed. "You don't know?" He gave her a no-nonsense look. "Dude, it's
totally
him."

Chloe was smiling now. "Let's hope so. Otherwise the
real
Lawton Rastor's gonna be pretty mad at me."

I gave her a look. "Got that right." My gaze dipped to her lips. They looked so damn kissable, I wanted to taste them again. "The way I hear it, he's not big on sharing."

She laughed. "Well, there you have it." She turned back to the guys. "I'm pretty sure he's the real one."

"I knew it!" the guy said. He turned to his friend. "See? I told you." He turned back to us and said, "Ducky didn't believe me."

Chloe gave him a confused look. "Ducky?"

The kid with the box spoke up. "That's me." He shrugged. "Nickname."

"Anyway," the first kid said, turning back to me, "I told Ducky you lived around here. I recognized the car." He grinned. "You know, from the internet. Pretty sweet ride, huh?"

Yeah, the car
was
sweet. But it felt a lot sweeter when it was just me and Chloe. "Thanks," I said, trying to be a decent sport about it. It wasn't their fault I was dying to be alone with the girl in the passenger's seat.

But Chloe was smiling at the guys, looking amused as hell. "You come here often?" she asked.

"Yeah." The guy flicked his head toward the pizza place. "We're like regular customers." He glanced at the box in Ducky's hands. "You want some? It's pepperoni."

"Uh, thanks," Chloe said, "but we're on our way to dinner."

He was grinning at her now. "So, are you his girlfriend?"

Chloe looked toward me. "I don't know." She smiled. "He
is
Lawton Rastor, you know."

The kid was nodding like somehow this made sense. He turned back to me. "As long as you're here, can we have your autograph?"

I heard myself laugh. When I'd pulled into the parking lot, this wasn't what I had in mind. Still, I wasn't going to be a dick about it. I'd been a teenager once.

True, when I'd been their age, I'd been a lot less puppy-like. But the reason for that was obvious. My old neighborhood was more of a Doberman kind of place.

"Sure," I said.

"Except we don't have a pen," the guy said. "You got one?"

Next to him, Ducky spoke up. "If you don't, I could borrow one from the pizza place." He straightened. "On account of the fact we're regulars."

Chloe gave a small laugh. "Hang on, I think I've got a pen in my purse."

Ducky cleared his throat. "Um, we don't have anything to sign either." He gave me a hopeful look. "You got a picture? Or maybe a piece of paper or something?"

Chloe spoke up. "How about the pizza box?"

Now, they were both nodding. "Yeah," Ducky was saying. "Good idea." He thrust the box through the open car window. "But sign the
top
of the box, okay? Because the inside's all greasy." He paused. "Sure you don't want a piece?"

I looked down at the box. It was still warm, but not heavy enough to contain a whole pizza. Probably, they'd been scarfing it in the parking lot. "Thanks," I said, "maybe next time."

A couple of minutes later, the box was signed, and we were on our way.

From the passenger's seat, Chloe said, "That was really nice of you."

I shook my head. "What? Signing a box? It was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing," she said. "You let them take selfies with you."

I shrugged. The selfies happened so often, I barely noticed them anymore.

Chloe was still talking. "You were nice to them, too. I bet a lot of people wouldn’t be."

"Nice?" I gave a dramatic groan. "Oh, no."

"What?" she asked.

"Nice," I repeated. "That's the kiss of death."

She gave me an amused smile. "What? You worried about ruining your reputation?"

"Baby," I said, "my reputation's
already
ruined."

I'd said it as a joke, but the funny thing was, it was true. I had a reputation alright, and it sure as hell wasn't for being nice.

The way the tabloids told it, I'd gotten my reputation by kicking asses, breaking hearts, and showing my dick on the internet. But if I were lucky, those days were over. This was a new start, and I was going to make the most of it.

It was a good thought, and I might have kept on thinking it, except just a few hours later, there was trouble. And like always, it wasn't the kind I could solve with niceness.