All Things Pretty (16 page)

“Tommi, I’ve told you that you can trust me.
When are you going to believe me?”

“And
I’ve
told
you
that I
don’t trust anyone.”

“Not even Lance?”

“Especially not Lance.”

“Then why, Tommi? Why be with him?”

“I wish I could tell you.” Her expression is
remorseful and I believe her. “I really do. But I can’t.”

“Then I’ll wait. Until you can.”

“That just won’t work, Sig. Not for me.”

“Well, staying away from you won’t work for
me, so I say we compromise.” She starts to speak, but I cover her
mouth with my hand. “Let me finish. My job is to keep eyes on you.
I don’t want to lose my job. You don’t want to have someone you
can’t trust take over for me, right? That would make it
even
harder
on you. No matter what, we are both in the perfect
situation, so why ruin it? This is what I say we do: I’ll keep my
eyes
on you, but my hands
off
. You let me spend time
with you, under the guise of doing my job, and we’ll all be happy.
I won’t make it any harder on you until you’re ready to trust me.
Deal?”

“But it’s not that you
try
to make it
harder on me. Just being with you makes it harder.”

I slide my hands around her waist and kiss
her forehead then give her my most charming smile. “I can’t be held
responsible for my irresistibleness. That can’t be helped. What I
can do
is teach you some deep breathing exercises that might
make you less susceptible to my awesomeness.” I see her lips
twitch. “Please don’t do something rash that we’ll both regret.
Let’s just try to make this work. I’d hate for you to miss out on
spending time with me.”

“God forbid! How would I survive?”

“I’m not sure. Lesser women have died from
withdrawal symptoms. It’s not a nice way to go. Very lonely.
Very…dry,” I explain with a wink.

She gives me the stink eye for that last
bit. “You can’t say things like that, Sig!”

“I can’t even flirt? Dammit, you’re a hard
woman. All I can say is that I’ll
try
not to be so charming,
but I make no promises.”

“I’ll try to be strong, too,” she determines
sarcastically.

I bend my head to nip the skin of her smooth
throat. Before she can think to resist, she tilts her head and
gives me better access to her neck, which, of course, I take.

“Mmmm. Can we maybe start this new deal in
an hour?”

“Is that all it would take? An hour? How
disappointing,” she murmurs playfully.

I jerk my head up. “See now, you keep saying
shit like that and the gloves are comin’ off. And so are the
panties.”

She holds up her hands in surrender. “I
didn’t realize insulting your manhood would result in the loss of
clothing. I retract my previous comments.”

“Damn straight. Because I’d just feel the
need to show you just how
not
disappointing I can be.”

“Oh, I think I can figure that out on my
own, but thanks.”

I sigh, kissing her briefly, before she can
pull away. “Now, since my cock is not yet in full agreement of this
new situation,” I confess, rolling my hips against hers so she can
feel my re-emerging hard-on, “how about we get you changed, pick up
Travis and do something fun?”

She takes a deep breath. “If you
insist.”

“Oh, I insist.”

Her face is more relaxed now. She still
looks troubled, but not like she’s about to bolt. I consider that
progress.

Crisis averted.

“Uh, since I’ve got my car, why don’t you
just give me about ten minutes and come pick me up?”

I pause, but only for a second. I’m sure
this might have something to do with the woman in the back room. I
shrug nonchalantly. “Sure.”

We stand staring at each other for a few
seconds before she clears her throat and makes a move to pass me. I
let her by, giving her a wide berth. If this is the way she wants
to go about it, I’ll give her what she wants. Until she begs me to
give her more. And she will. It’s just a matter of time.

Already, I can see her eyes flickering to my
mouth. She wants me to kiss her. She’s remembering what it felt
like to be in my arms a few minutes ago, my body pressing hers down
into the mattress. Her mind is telling her it has to be this way,
but every other part of her disagrees. I’ll just have to make sure
to play to those parts specifically.

I give her a crooked smile and walk her to
the door. “See you in a few.”

I lean against the jamb and watch the way
her jeans cup her ass as she walks to the curb. Damn she’s hot.
Practically perfect in every way. Except for her ties to criminals.
And her penchant for telling fibs. Luckily, she
isn’t
herself
a criminal. That could be a problem. But
this
I
can work with.

Almost hesitantly, like she knows she
shouldn’t look back, she glances over her shoulder at me. I hold
her eyes and then wink, loving the way she turns hurriedly away. It
sucks to try to fight your own body, your own desires. That’s why,
whenever possible, I try not to fight it. It’s usually a pointless
battle.

“Dress to get dirty,” I call to her just
before she ducks into her car. She nods and closes the door.

I wait until she’s pulling away from the
curb before going back inside to change my own clothes. I choose an
old blue tank top with some shorts and shitty tennis shoes,
plopping a hat on my head at the last minute.

Fifteen minutes later when I pull up in
Tommi’s driveway, I’m forced to rethink who’s actually going to be
torturing whom in this plan. She’s wearing cut-off shorts again,
similar to the ones she was wearing that first day, only these are
shorter and have a whole at the bottom of her right ass cheek.
Holy shit!
Covering her upper half is a belly-baring blue
and purple button-up shirt with the tails tied above her navel. The
thick waves of her hair are in a ponytail that sits high on her
head and swings when she walks.

This might be a bad idea,
I think for
a second, shifting in my seat to let my semi hard dick get some
room to breathe.
Not good.

I get out and open the door for Tommi, fully
enjoying the way the muscles in her legs shift as she climbs into
the cab of my truck. I resist the urge to palm her ass and give her
a boost.

When she sits down, her lips are twisted in
a little smirk. She knows precisely the effect she has on me. And
she’s enjoying the shit out of it.

“You’re a damn vixen,” I accuse.

She gives me her most innocent expression.
“What? You said to dress to get dirty. Is there something wrong
with what I’m wearing?”

“Depends on what kind of dirty you thought I
was talking about.”

“You promised to be good,” she says, wagging
a finger at me. “It shouldn’t matter what I wear. Hands off.”

“I didn’t actually promise about
that
, but I always keep my word, so you’re safe. And for
today, it’ll be hard to keep my hands
completely
off just
because of what we’ll be doing. But don’t worry. I won’t put my
hands on you in any way that could be misconstrued as
sexual
. How about that?”

She narrows her eyes on me suspiciously for
a few seconds before begrudgingly agreeing. “Okay, but you’d better
behave.”

“Oh, I’ll behave. You’re the one I’m worried
about.”

I slam the door before she can comment.
She’s still wearing an indignant expression when I get in behind
the wheel. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You act like it’ll be easy as pie for you
to keep
your
hands off
me.
I’m thinking it’s gonna be
pure hell for both of us. I mean, have you met me? I’m pretty damn
irresistible.”

I give her my biggest, cheesiest smile and
start the engine, cutting off any reply she might’ve made.

We’re both quiet on the way to get Travis.
Just the sound of the radio playing softly between us. Damn, I
enjoy the hell out of this woman.

When we arrive at the school, Travis hasn’t
appeared yet. I shift into park just as he hits the double doors,
head down as always, and starts down the steps. I see his head jerk
up and he turns. A guy comes out after him. He’s carrying what
looks like Travis’s backpack. He walks to the step above Travis and
hands him his bag. He says something to him that looks to be in
confidence. His lips barely move and his face is devoid of
expression. Travis nods and the guy claps his shoulder congenially
a couple of times and then turns back to the school.

“Who’s that?” I ask Tommi, still watching
Travis. His posture is stiff. Stiffer than usual. I can’t see his
face since his head is down again, hat pulled low, hood up.

“That’s Travis’s special needs teacher, Mr.
Chaps. His home room and his last period of the day.”

As Travis approaches the curb, I yell from
the window. “Over here, Travis.”

He raises his head only enough to spot me
and then drops it again as he makes his way toward us. “Is he
always like this?”

“For the most part. Some days are worse than
others.”

Tommi gets out and opens the door for
Travis. He hops in without a word, throwing his bag onto the seat
beside him and slumping down until his chin nearly rests on his
chest.

“How was your day?”

“Shitty.”

“Must’ve been. You never forget your
backpack. You never let that thing out of your sight.”

Travis grunts. I glance at the backpack in
question, noting the blue zippers.

“Is that even yours, Travis? I thought the
zippers on your back pack were green.”

“What the hell do you know, joker? It’s
mine. Do you think I’m too stupid to recognize my own shit?”

I raise my hands and turn back around. “No
offense, man. Just trying to help.”

Travis looks sulkily out the window and I
shift into drive as soon as Tommi is buckled in.

After we are away from the school, I try
again. “Thought we’d go to a place I found a couple of weeks ago
and play a game. You up for it?”

“I just wanna go home.”

“Come on, Travis. It’ll be fun,” Tommi adds
enthusiastically.

“I said I just wanna go home. Damn!”

“Language,” Tommi chastises gently.

“It’s fine, Tommi. I doubt he’s in the mood
to have his ass handed to him anyway.”

If he’s got a shred of teenage testosterone
flowing through those veins, that’ll get him quicker than two hours
of pleading and cajoling.

“What?” he snaps, his hateful eyes meeting
mine in the mirror.

“I’ve got a football and a muddy field lined
up as an excuse for me to whip your ass. But if you’re not man
enough to handle it…”

“I’m stronger than you think, dickhole.”

“Oh yeah? Care to prove it on the
field?”

“Fine,” he says begrudgingly.

In my peripheral vision, I see Tommi turn to
face forward, her chest rising and falling with a silent sigh.
Probably of relief. “You can just wear your gym clothes, okay?”

Travis shrugs.

As I’m taking them to a place that my
brothers and I used to go to play touch football as kids, my eyes
fall on Travis’s backpack again. I’m absolutely sure the zippers
were green this morning. I watched him play with one of them. But a
few days ago, I saw them as blue. Plus, why get so defensive? And
why doesn’t he let it out of his sight, like Tommi says?

My gut instincts, my internal antennae
twitch with suspicion. What if the teacher is involved? What if
Travis is involved? That might explain why Tommi stays with Tonin.
And that would explain why it’s so hard to find out how Tonin moves
a bulk that we can’t find. Maybe he’s not holding it.

My mind puts possible pieces of a plausible
puzzle together.
Plausible
yes, but plausible doesn’t matter
if it can’t be proven.

As soon as we arrive at the field, I cut the
engine and turn to Tommi. “The ball’s in the back. I’m gonna text
Barber real quick. Let him know you’re sleeping so he can pass that
along to Tonin.”

She nods and gets out, letting Travis out
before closing the door and heading around to the back of the
truck. I eye the backpack again, wondering if there’s anything in
it besides books and shit right now. Not that it matters. I can’t
look without getting busted, but what I
can
do is text in to
the department for a background check and maybe a tail on the
teacher. So that’s exactly what I do.

********

Tommi and Travis wait by the front of the
truck until I get out. I snatch the ball from her hands and nod to
Travis. “You can change in the truck if you wanna.” I look to
Tommi. “You did say he has gym clothes, right?”

She nods and Travis turns back to the truck,
totally unenthusiastic.

“This’ll be good for him,” I tell Tommi,
tossing the ball in the air with a spin and catching it again.

“How is this even going to work? With three
of us?”

“You two against me.”

“That’s hardly fair.”

“You’re a girl. And he’s a kid.”

“And?”

“And I’m me.”

“Oh god!” she says with a roll of her
eyes.

I laugh, doing my best to keep the mood
light. “Admit it, you just want an excuse to tackle me.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“Well, damn. ‘Cause that’s half the reason
I’m doing this.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

I smile down into her eyes, wishing I could
kiss her right here, right now, and then carry her over into the
mud and strip her clothes off. Pound her down into the wet dirt.
Streak her body with my fingerprints. Mark her in a way that I can
see.
Shit!

Of course, her brother’s here. That’s a
downer.

When he mopes back to us, dressed in shorts
that hang past his knees and a shirt nearly that long, I throw the
ball at his stomach. He fumbles to catch it.