Page 17 of Her Filthy Grump
“I would love to open my own photography studio.” She frowns. “Someday. How about you?”
“No college for me. Well….” I shrug. “I’ve taken some online classes but not in a brick-and-mortar school.”
“That’s admirable.” She beams with twinkling eyes, and my stomach does a slow roll. “Anyone who can work full-time and go to college is awesome in my book. I only worked ten hours during the week and then on Saturdays and struggled with that.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I’ve been taking four classes a semester, carrying a 3.9 GPA, and working 70 plus hours a week. I bite my tongue until I can taste the copper of my blood.
Damn it. She’s worming her way in through compliments.My back bristles.Anything that appears to be too good to be true–is. This isn’t bare your soul time.
“Well.” I slap my hands onto the tabletop. “You should be good now to get to your vehicle, but if you’re worried, I can get with Gavin and see if we have crutches.”
“I’ll be fine.” Her eyes fill with disappointment, and then she lowers her lashes to keep her emotions from me–a pang of regret slams into my chest.
Don’t.It’s better if she finds me abrasive and rude rather than approachable and awe-inspiring.
“Cupcake?’ A loud booming voice bellows from behind me.
Chief Monroe.I close my eyes.Perfect.
“Daddy.” Layla’s eyes light up as she pushes her way upright.
“What happened?” His eyes rake over her and then land on me. “Kameron?”
My jaw flexes. I don’t like the implications that I’m somehow to blame for her injury. “Layla was taking photographs outside the station and twisted her ankle.”
“I’m fine, Daddy.” She grips his forearm and leans against him.
The man is large and burly. He’s the epitome of a man’s man. With years of hauling firehoses around, his biceps bulge under his T-shirt. It’s never good to date the daughter of a man that looks like him. What’s wrong with you? You aren’t dating his daughter.
“Kameron managed to save me from being run over and doctored my ankle.”
“You don’t say.” Chief Monroe’s jaw is tight. It’s clear he doesn’t care if I saved her or not. I’m not on hisYou’ve Been Goodlist for Christmas gifts.
“Dad.” Layla’s eyes narrow slightly. “Don’t be overprotective. None of this is Kameron’s fault.”
“If you say so.” His eyes dart to mine. “I heard he was carrying you inside, and you were all snuggled up next to him. It didn’t sound as innocent as you’re making it out to be.”
“Listen.” I raise my hands in defense. “I was only helping Layla out. I kept her from getting hurt and made sure she had proper first aid care. That’s my job, and I was only doing my job. Nothing else.”Shit. Why are my hands sweating?“I’m only here for a few months, and I have no intention of pursuing a relationship with anyone. Especially your daughter.”
“Thank you for doing your job.” Layla’s eyes are vacant as she turns toward her father. “Do you think you could help me to my car? It’s way past time for me to go.”
As Layla shuffles toward the door, Chief Monroe turns his head around and meets my gaze. “My daughter is off-limits. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir, I understand.” My heart thuds in my chest as heat crawls up my chest.
“Good. Because it was against my better judgment to offer you a job. If it wasn’t for your cousin, I wouldn’t have.”
“Point heard and understood.”
Why am I freaked the fuck out that I’m going to ignore what he said and do something epically stupid? Why? Because that’s what I do. Dumb shit.
“Dad.” Layla stops and slaps her hands on her hips. “That’s enough. I’m not a baby who can’t make her own decisions. If I want to date someone, I will. Not Kameron, of course.” Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “But someone else, and you don’t get a say in it.” Her eyes dart to mine. “Neither of you do. I’ll make my own way to my car. Thank you both for your kind hospitality.”
“Layla.” Chief Monroe follows behind her as she hobbles out of the room.
“Dad, I’m serious. Stay out of my business.”
There’s no need to worry that breaking my word to him. Layla won’t give me the time of day again.