Page 13 of Not Your Romeo
I was so done with all of it. Henny had no idea the enemy he’d just made in me. His kid was a heathen! I sat in the passenger seat, clutching my bloody nose while I tried to wrap my head around what in the hell had just happened.
Wyatt popped my glove box open, only to snap it shut a minute later. He jerked the middle console up and let it drop down with a sigh before he wiggled out of his vest, took his shirt off and handed it to me all wadded up.
“Do I look like your fuckin’ laundress?” I managed, hoping very much to shame him, though my voice was distorted and whiny, so all things considered it probably wasn’t all that much of a scolding.
He looked from the shirt to me with a dumbfounded expression plastered on his dark brows, “It’s for your nose, crazy.”
“Oh,” I managed, and hurriedly jerked it away from his hand before he changed his mind.
I wasn’t used to that type of kindness, especially when it was my own mouth that had gotten me into things. I held it over my nose and applied a bit of pressure while keeping my eye on him.
He turned the car on and put it in reverse, not saying a whole lot until we were back on the interstate.
“If it’s any consolation to you, he’s probably wearing her out right now, considering what he advised me to do to you.” Wyatt grinned, when he caught me peeking his way.
“Yeah. He’s a real charmer.” I rolled my eyes.
“Sorry.” He sounded like he meant it, and I chose to believe him.
“You didn’t do it.” I shrugged.
“No, but I should have gotten out when he put you out.”
I chose to accept that with a short, stunned nod, rather than rub it in or ruin it with any attempt at a comeback. After a few moments, he turned the radio on and adjusted it to a station that was tolerable, and I tuned out for most of the ride.
East Alton wasn’t so far away, an interstate stretch and a few turns. We arrived in front of a big brown-and-tan house with long windows on the upstairs floor.
“Is this like– The Brady house?” I only half-teased, as my nerves suddenly scattered at the thought of sharing space with stepchildren my own age.
“I’m sure when my ex-wife signed for us it was fashionable.”
“Putting all the blame on her, for this gem?”
He laughed and threw his door open, holding out my keys in surrender, finally.
“I told you. I did the military thing back then.”
“Right.” I’d actually forgotten, but I snagged the keys and nodded anyhow.
He got out and groaned as he stretched. I stayed put, causing him to lean down and stare across the vehicle at me after a moment.
“How– How many of your children still live at home?”
I narrowed my eyes as his smile widened.
“Ro, are you scared of meeting my family? Is this like the first day of school? Come on.” He wiggled his fingers and made grabby hands like he was rushing a kindergartner at the drop off line.
“Oh, my God.” I gave an indignant huff and tossed the seatbelt before anyone could see him carrying on.
His snort bubbled into a laugh as I shook my head and hurriedly trotted around the Viper. We walked up the concrete path that ran from the driveway to the front door. When we arrived, he shoved a key into the lock and opened it, waving me onward.
“Thanks,” I murmured, stepping inside.
I didn’t know what to expect, since he never really answered me about who lived with him. The deep, reverberating growl that echoed off the wooden floors and freshly painted walls, was definitely not what I was anticipating. It was the most ferocious bark I’d ever heard in my life, but even that didn’t terrify me near as much as the heavy sound of those tips on the floor did. Whatever it was, the damn thing was huge and moving fast! About the time I computed as much, the big-bodied beast came bounding toward us, hooking around the corner. The massive dog slid ass cocked and paws scrambling, but it didn’t hinder it any. My eyes widened and I tried to hurl myself back, but Wyatt caught me. His arm locked around my waist, causing more panic than reassurance. I didn’t have any shame; I threw myself back like I was the queen of booty-ball.
“Whoa- whoa,” Wyatt laughed, his stubble teasing along my jaw while I suddenly got louder than he had back in the passenger seat. His arm shot out for the double wide, drooling dog, and mine did, too! Not leaving anything to chance, I hurled his bloodied shirt at the creature.
The damn thing had to be a Mastiff, or some kind of bulldog. It was eighty pounds at least, but that didn’t stop it from leaping up to catch the shirt. I clung to Wyatt and sucked in air so quick and hard it hurt when the dog started tossing its head in victory. Rabid sounds filled the room as the dog pinned his shirt on the ground and went absolutely nuts.
