Zane (The Powers That Be, Book 6) Page 8

  All giggling ceasing, I went up on my elbow. “Arthur?”

  “After my grandpa.”

  “ZAP? Your initials are ZAP? Really?”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Still on my elbow, I asked, “What does your tattoo mean? Truth something.”

  “The truth will out.”

  I saw his jaw tic and knew there was something behind it. “Meaning?”

  He shrugged. “The truth will out.”

  Huh. Okay then.

  “Favorite book?” he asked.

  “Jane Eyre.”

  “Ah, total chick book.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yours?”

  “The Caine Mutiny.”

  “Ah, total dude book,” I teased back. “Movie?”

  “Damn. So many good ones,” he said. “Hard to choose.” I waited as he thought about it, wondering what he’d go with. “Okay, Showgirls.”

  I snorted but when he didn’t say anything, up on my elbow I went again to see him trying to hold in his laughter. “You dork! I was thinking, now, here’s this highly intelligent man and he picks that?”

  “Highly intelligent, eh?” he said, suddenly popping up and rolling me to my back where he kissed my neck.

  “Okay, just kind of intelligent,” I said with a snicker and let out a yelp when he gave me a horse bite that made me get goosebumps everywhere.

  “Mmm, liking this t-shirt on you,” he pulled back and said looking down at my chest which I knew from my goosebumps my nipples were hard.

  God. Just his looking at me made me want him, and my back arched up involuntarily as if my breasts were begging him to touch them. Lord.

  His eyes sparked gold and he murmured, “You’re a fucking temptress. You really are a mermaid.”

  He lay back with a huff and I couldn’t help it. I started laughing since I wanted to huff too, my self-imposed no-sex rule totally backfiring, it seemed.

  A moment later, he looked over at me and grinned before saying, “My movie is The Godfather, hands down, best saga ever. Although there’s this movie on Netflix called Zombeavers that my brother Drake likes…”

  I laughed again. “Zombeavers? Do I even want to know?”

  He chuckled. “Oh, yeah. And when you meet him, ask if he wants to watch it. You’ll become instant friends.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that you’re setting me up?”

  “Smart woman.” He snorted. “Okay, your movie?”

  We both lay there looking at the ceiling as I thought for a moment, and I realized picking one would be like asking a mother to choose which of her children is her favorite. “Oh, gosh. I have too many! I love, love, love movies! In no particular order, Mean Girls, Dirty Dancing, Pretty Woman, Grease, The Devil Wears Prada, 13 Going on 30, 10 Things I Hate About You, The Notebook, Easy A, The Holiday, Love Actually, The Proposal. Um, When Harry Met Sally, A Walk to Remember, Sixteen Candles, Bridget Jones. Sex and the City, Juno, The Way We Were. Um…”

  I thought I heard him mumble, “Holy shit,” but I was too busy listing more.

  “Steel Magnolias, Bridesmaids, Twilight, well, the first one wasn’t great but Edward was so hot! She’s the Man, Pitch Perf—”

  “Okay. Jesus. I get it. You like movies.”

  I whacked his chest with the back of my right hand. “I do! Nothing wrong with that!”

  He instinctively drew his arms up at the elbow to protect himself, mumbling, “Damn, woman,” making me roll my eyes. We both laughed and a moment later he inquired, “Favorite poem?”

  My head snapped in his direction. “You like poetry?”

  Giving me the side-eye, he admitted, “Some of it’s okay.”

  “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.”

  Now it was his turn to go up on an elbow. “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner?” he asked, eyebrow akimbo. I nodded. “That’s a terrible poem.”

  Then I was on my elbow. “No, it isn’t! It’s haunting. And beautiful.”

  “It’s archaic. And pointless. And in the words of my senior English teacher Mr. Edwards, ‘It’s utterly dreadful.’” He snorted which kind of pissed me off.

  I sat up, my legs curled to the side. “It’s not dreadful. It’s ominously stunning.”

  He gave another snort which led to more pissedoffedness on my part. “’Ominously stunning.’ It’s about crime and punishment.”

  My mouth dropped open. “It’s about redemption!” He screwed his face up at me as if I were totally clueless. “It’s romantic!” I claimed.

  Now his mouth dropped open. “Romantic? Are you kidding me?”

  “Yes! I mean, no! And, yes, it is romantic!”

  He sat up too. “They hang a dead albatross around his neck. The albatross he shot! How is that romantic?”

  “Did you know some species of albatross mate for life? I think that’s beautiful! And romantic! And I hope I find my albatross someday!”

  He burst out laughing and I wanted to punch him. “The albatross is a sign of bad luck! And you think that’s romantic?”

  I glared at him for what seemed forever, trying to get where he was coming from. But I couldn’t.

  “Babe. I understand where you’re coming from.” He’d read my thoughts. “I can see that it might be considered romantic in the fact that it’s searching for the ideal.” He nodded. “Yeah, I can see it.”

  Twisting my mouth in annoyance and crossing my arms over my chest, I let out a breath. “I guess I can see where you might be right.”

  The half smirk made an appearance. “Did we just have our first fight?”

  Damn. We did.

  He put his hand on one of my arms trying to unwrap them from around me. “Hey, come here.”

  I let him pull me down with him and we lay there in silence.

  He kissed the top of my head and said against it, “Note to self: Jillian is passionate about an old poem. And birds. Don’t forget the birds.”

  This made me start giggling and I pinched his stomach.

  “Ow!” he hollered and pulled me to lie on top of him. “We good?”

  I looked into those gorgeous amber eyes of his that twinkled with mischief—God help me—and nodded. His head came off the bed and he kissed me long and hard.

  “Ready to get some shuteye?”

  “Yeah,” I said, suddenly tired.

  He gave me another quick peck turning us to the side saying, “’Night, babe.”

  “’Night, honey.”

  And we drifted off in each other’s arms.

  Chapter 10

  I awoke to the smell of bacon and took a long sniff because bacon!

  I did my thing in the bathroom, brushing my teeth then twisting my hair into a loose bun on top of my head, took a quick shower, using his body wash that had a nice, clean scent. After drying off, I let my ponytail down then contemplated putting my dress back on, only to decide I’d stick with a more comfy t-shirt instead and, throwing the shirt I’d worn to bed in the hamper, I pulled a UDub Huskies Baseball one out of his drawer. After changing into the panties from my purse, I then made my way through Zane’s humongo house.

  Following my nose led me to the living room, and I was just about to enter the kitchen when I heard an unfamiliar deep voice and I stopped, not sure it was appropriate for someone to see me only wearing Zane’s purple Huskies t-shirt and not sure if I wanted someone to see me in it. Ack!

  “So, you think it’s him?”

  “Pretty sure. Fucker has a rap sheet a mile long starting when he was fifteen. Minor shit, but we all know that only leads to bigger shit.” They were quiet for a moment then Zane continued. “I’m gonna start showing up at odd times. See if I can get a close-up. From what I’ve heard, he’s antsy. I think he knows.”

  “Probably. How could he not. Asshole set you up.”

  I turned to go back to the bedroom and the floor made a squeak. Stupid wood floors. It was a tiny, barely audible little squeak, but Mr. I Hear Everything detective suddenly came out of the kitche
n to catch me sneaking away.

  “Where you off to?” Zane called.

  I turned around and my face instantly caught on fire when I saw another guy ginning at me from behind him. A guy who looked and was dressed just like Zane, both of them in jeans with thermals underneath untucked plaid flannel shirts, sleeves up to their elbows, but the other guy looked a little older, I thought.

  My hands worried the hem of the t-shirt tugging it down as I answered, “I’m just gonna go, uh, put on my, uh, dress.”

  “C’mere,” Zane said, his eyes soft as he smiled, which made his dimple appear as he looked adoringly at me. Adoringly!

  Now who can say no to that?

  I bit my lip as I walked to him, embarrassed as hell that I was so underdressed in front of his, whoever he was.

  Winding his arms around me, Zane leaned down and touched his lips to mine and whispered, “You sleep okay?” God, he smelled so good, his hair still wet from showering, and, crap! What time was it?

  I nodded then whispered back, “What time is it and why didn’t you wake me?”

  “Just after nine. You looked so cute sleeping, and you were snoring, so I left you to it.” He snorted when I smacked his chest then twisted me in his arms to face the guy with him, wrapping an arm around me just above my breasts and stated, “Jillian, this is my big brother Drake. Drake, this is Jillian.”

  I held out my hand. “Nice to meet you, Drake.”

  He came forward and shook my hand replying, “Nice to meet you too, Jillian,” scrutinizing me for a moment, silver-blue hair and all. Then he glanced at his little brother and nodded in what looked like approval.

  Zane moved to my side, sliding his arm across my back then cupped my shoulder with his hand pulling me close as we walked into the kitchen. “Jill drives a Prius.”

  I looked up to see him looking back at Drake, biting his lips to keep from laughing as his eyes twinkled. I turned around to see Drake giving Zane the finger.

  “What’s wrong with a Prius?” I asked.

  Drake let out an annoyed breath. “Just had to get some training with the hybrids.”

  “Our dad and uncle own Powers Automotive and Drake just opened his own shop in the franchise,” Zane filled me in. Then laughing, he stated, “And it wasn’t just some training.”

  Nodding and showing a tiny bit of disgust on his face, Drake said, “Had to buy all new equipment to work on hybrids to keep up with the competition. But it’s done, so we’re good.”

  Ah. Now it made sense. Usually, hybrid owners had to go to the dealership for maintenance but I guessed more independent mechanic shops were changing that.

  I shrugged sheepishly. “I’m doing my part to keep the environment clean.”

  I watched Drake laugh and look at Zane. “This the tree hugger?”

  Zane squeezed my shoulder again. “She’s the one.”

  He’d told his brother about me. Talk about your warm and fuzzies.

  “You’re the one who likes Zombeavers, right?” I asked.

  Zane let out a raspy cough as he snorted and I watched Drake shoot him a look. “Nice one. Wait until she hears about your dumbass obsession with Leonardo DiCaprio.”

  “I had a goldfish named that!” I pitched in.

  “I’m not obsessed. I just like The Departed, dickhead.”

  “All I heard for a year from this prick was,” he raised his voice to a higher pitch as he said, “‘Look at me. Okay? I’m not the fuckin’ rat. I’m not the fuckin’ rat!’ and ‘I’ve been to prison. My hand doesn’t shake ever.’” Drake shook his head in mock disgust.

  “Totally screwed up the lines. Jesus. You make a terrible Billy Costigan,” Zane said, giving him a distasteful look before turning back to put the bacon on a paper-towel-covered plate.

  I couldn’t help laughing watching them arguing, my head going back and forth between them as they continued shooting insults at each other.

  Drake grinned at me. “All right. I gotta take off. It was nice meeting you, Jillian.” He looked at Zane and shoved his shoulder. “Honor’s brother and I are playing today. You need to join us sometime.”

  “Baseball’s my thing, bro. Besides, I’d just embarrass you with my moves.”

  “Right. But seriously, come out to the field some Sunday. It’ll put hair on your chest.” Drake laughed.

  Zane went to the stove and took the pan with the bacon in it off the burner. “If you’re saying it’ll make me manly, dude, I’ve got that covered.”

  Drake snorted then eyes on me but nodding at Zane, he added, “Keep this one in line. I know he’s an ass, but all he needs is a good woman to keep him in check.”

  “I’ll, um, try. Nice meeting you, Drake.”

  He winked at me then let himself out.

  I asked Zane, “So he’s the oldest?”

  “Yep. Two years older than I am.” He put bread in the toaster then got a knife from the drawer. “You like jelly on your toast?”

  “Grape if you’ve got it,” I answered, watching him move around the kitchen.

  “Grape it is,” he said opening the fridge to get it out.

  He looked so good and I so wanted to jump his damn bones right then, but I was kind of afraid since he’d always seemed the more dominant type and might not like it if I took the lead. So curbing my libido, I asked, “Need any help?”

  “You can get some plates and silverware out of the cabinet if you want.” He nodded at the cabinet to his right.

  Having grown comfortable in the t-shirt I was wearing, I forgot I even had it on. So when I reached up to get the plates, I guess it raised up a bit to put my ass on display because the next thing I heard was Zane rasping out a hoarse, “Fuck!”

  I turned to see him staring hotly at me, the tics in his jaw muscles popping and my eyes went big.

  “Have I proven you’re not a fuckin’ booty call yet?”

  I nodded.

  “Thank fuck,” he said huskily, taking a step and pinning me against the counter.

  Chapter 11

  Now, I’m not one to kiss and tell, but the kitchen sex? Magnifique.

  As I’d bent over the counter while he ravaged me from behind with his mouth, we had the “I’m safe, are you?” talk—which was so romantic ergh—but we bypassed using a condom, and I felt we’d taken a big step in our relationship. Which scared the bajeebus out of me.

  Afterward, we ate our moderately cold breakfast, but I didn’t care. I’d eat cold eggs and bacon any old day if it was proceeded by hotter than hot sex. Even though I was freaking out.

  Zane had to go into work for a bit, so he took me home around four, and when we got there, he insisted that he accompany me inside to make sure Rusty wasn’t going to bother me.

  “I don’t think he’s here. I didn’t see his truck,” I said.

  Zane narrowed his eyes, looking around the parking lot. “I’m still going in with you.”

  I shrugged and got out of his SUV, going inside with him bringing up the rear.

  “See? No one’s here,” I stated.

  “Where’s his room?”

  “Last door on the left down the hall.”

  He walked to the hallway and stared down it for a moment. Then turning back to me, he said, “Call me if he starts his shit with you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Actually, I’ll come by this evening with some groceries. We can make tacos. Sound good?”

  My brow wrinkled because this was all so new to me. I’d been on my own forever and now I had a man wanting to spend time with me. And we weren’t using condoms. I was totally going to have to adjust.

  “Okay,” I answered tentatively.

  “Text me what you want me to pick up from the grocery store. I’ll see you in a bit.” He kissed me and left, closing the door behind him, leaving me standing there staring at it.

  “Huh.”

  Text Message—Sun, Dec 18, 4:34 p.m.

  Me: How do I go from just me to not?

  Iz: What?

  Me: H
ow do I adjust to having Zane in my life?!

  Iz: Do you want him in your life?

  Me: Well, yeah

  Iz: Then just do it

  Me: I knew that Nike slogan would come in handy at some point *eyeroll*

  Iz: lol I mean it. If you want something, you make it happen

  Me: This is kinda terrifying

  Iz: Do you like him?

  Me: Yes

  Iz: Do you see this as long-term?

  Me: I don’t know. I’m just taking it day by day

  Iz: That makes sense. How about this. You do what works for you & go from there

  Me: You make it sound so easy

  Iz: lol Yeah, well, if it’s gonna work, it will

  Me: I guess

  Iz: That doesn’t sound very promising

  Me: I’m just scared

  Iz: I know. Every relationship is scary. You take a chance and put your heart out there & hope for the best

  Me: See? Terrifying

  Iz: Yep

  Me: You’ve been a great help

  Iz: Sorry, toots. That’s about all I can say.

  Me: You think my Magic 8-Ball will help?

  Iz: I hear that’s how the president makes all his decisions

  Me: Explains a lot

  Iz: It is certain

  Me: So I should just be myself and things will work out how they’re supposed to either way, right?

  Iz: Signs point to yes

  Me: And if we work out, great

  Iz: As I see it, yes

  Me: And if we don’t, I’ll live

  Iz: You may rely on it

  Me: Are you punking me with Magic 8-Ball replies?

  Iz: Reply hazy try again

  Me: I hate you

  Iz: LOL You love me. It’s all gonna be okay, Jilly Bean. Promise

  Me: sigh

  Iz: Listen, nothing’s ever certain, right? Come on. The psychologist in you knows this

  Me: I know. But I was totally hoping with all your experience, you’d have all the answers

  Iz: Honey, if I had the answers, Corey and I would be honeymooning in Jamaica right now

  Me: You two are still good, though, right?

  Iz: Yeah. I just get tired of him being away so much

  Me: You knew it was part of the deal

  Iz: I know. It just gets old. I feel like a military wife or something