Page 38 of The Darkest Chase
Talia wilts like the pretty pink flower she is.
“…he really hates me, huh?”
“He hates anyone who steals my attention, Shortcake. It’s not personal.”
Talia blinks, throwing me a startled look.
I knit my brows.
What?
What did I say?
She looks away again, almost pointedly avoiding eye contact. “So, where should we leave my stuff?”
“Back of my Jeep is fine.” I step forward, nudging Rolf with my knee to get him across the threshold. He balks, but then circles around Talia, giving me room to step outside and lock up.
For a second, we’re arm to arm, and I can catch her scent—vanilla again. Smells more natural than any lotion, perfume, or other fragrance.
Then she skitters away, stumbling down the concrete front step onto the leaf-littered paved walk. She keeps avoiding eye contact while her thumbs hook in the straps of her rucksack.
I lock the door, then sigh and turn to face her.
“Spill.”
“…huh?” Talia’s head jerks up. “Spill what?”
“Something’s wrong,” I say firmly. “You won’t look at me. You looked upset when I came back outside.”
She winces.
“Oh, no, I—I’m just being a dork…”
“A dork about what?”
“I just wondered if I’m annoying you?” she strains out. “You just shut the door in my face. I mean, and I know we don’t even know each other, but—”
“No, I get it. In a town like this, you’re used to being invited in for coffee, chatting a little and making niceties before getting down to business,” I finish. “Yeah. I know. Guess I never let go of my New York manners. Or the New York need for privacy.” I step down onto the walk, coiling Rolf’s leash around my fist. “It’s mostly for Rolf’s sake. At his age, he gets twitchy if there’s anyone else’s scent in the house.”
It's not an outright lie.
He really is a possessive beast.
The guys have tried like hell to make friends and he’s just not having it. Lucas Graves must’ve fed Rolf his weight in sausage several times over.
I’ve just never let anyone stick around long enough to find out if he could truly get used to them.
“Oh,” Talia says, trailing behind me as I head for my Jeep. It’s so old it’s a miracle it hasn’t fallen apart, but these old machines were made to last. I picked it up at a police auction in New York when I was still a rookie, and it’s held up forever even though it’s so battered it looks like mud was the original paint color.
With an eager whoof, Rolf leaps up into the open back, bouncing and wagging his tail. I scratch his ruff.
“Get down from there. I need the space today.” I hold my hand out to Talia. “Show me what’s in that sack.”
After hesitating, she shimmies the backpack off.
Can’t say I mind the show, considering how she squirms. Her tits press against her flannel shirt so hard the buttons are damned near ready to pop.
I get a glimpse of a very thin undershirt and hints of what looks like black lace showing through the thin white fabric.