Zeke (The Powers That Be, Book 2) Read online

  “What?” he asked looking over my shoulder.

  The side of my head went to the headrest as I closed my eyes in embarrassment. “Look closely at the window on the right with the blind pulled down just a bit. That’s my brother. The window on the left with the blinds pulled apart about eight inches? Grammy.” I heard him chuckle. “I’d better go in.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door then we can really give them a show.”

  “What? No!” I answered, jerking back, mortified then noticed he was laughing at me. “Oh.”

  “Cute.” He shook his head and was smiling as he got out his side coming around to open my door then took my hand helping me down. As we walked to the porch, I doubt he noticed but I sure did when I saw two quick flicks of the shades and I knew Grammy and Lane had moved away quickly then would act as if they hadn’t been watching us once I got inside. “You free tomorrow night?” he inquired when we got there, wrapping his arms around my waist and clasping his hands behind me just above my butt. I was a bit reticent about his familiarity, but, jeez, we had slept together, so I would’ve looked dumb had I stepped away. Besides, it felt good being this close to him.

  “My brother has a basketball game, so no.”

  He nodded. “Friday?”

  “Uh.” Dang. It’d been so long since I’d actually been agreeable to going out with someone I wasn’t sure how to go about answering.

  “I’ll pick you up at seven.” He grinned.

  “What? What if I’m not free? What if I’m busy?” I asked stubbornly.

  “You’re not.”

  “I might be.”

  “But you’re not.”

  “How do you know?” I stepped back losing his hands then put my own on my hips and leaned into him. “How do you know I don’t have a date?”

  He barked out a laugh. “You? Ms. I don’t have time to date? Don’t think so.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Now, you look here, Mr. I Think I Know Everything. I could have a date! You don’t know tha—”

  His hands shot out grabbing me by the upper arms and he pulled me to him hard, his mouth colliding with mine and he proceeded to shut me up by giving me a long, wet, deep kiss that made the friggin’ earth move. We came apart abruptly and he looked down at me, his eyes intense.

  “You have a date Friday?” he asked gruffly.

  “No,” I breathed.

  “You do now.” I saw his eyes wrinkle at the edges then he leaned down, kissed my forehead, mumbled, “I’ll call you,” then turned and walked to his truck, giving me a head nod before he got in then drove off.

  Holy cow. I’d never been with anyone as infuriating or hot or sexy as he was.

  And I loved it.

  Man, was I in trouble.

  *Week Seven—9th Encounter*

  “Was that Zeke Powers?” Lane asked wide-eyed when I came in.

  I shot him a look. “Yes. And if I catch you and Grammy (I hollered her name because I knew she’d gone to the kitchen but knew she was listening) watching again, I’m off kitchen duty for a month!”

  “What’s he like? Is he cool? Man, he looks huge! He was way taller than you are! I hope the Seahawks take him! How awesome would that be?”

  I smiled at Lane. “He’s very nice and, yeah, he’s pretty cool.” That would be awesome if the Seahawks took him, but from what Zeke had told me, the players pretty much had to go with whoever drafted them.

  “And you’re dating him? I thought you said you were just friends?” Lane followed me into the kitchen.

  “We are friends but he asked me out and I’m going.” I shrugged, picking up one of the snickerdoodle cookies I’d made and taking a bite then I got a glass out of the cabinet and went to the fridge to pour some milk.

  “Well, he’s very handsome… from what little I could see,” Grammy said from where she sat at the table working on a crossword puzzle.

  I laughed. God, my family. “When he comes to pick me up Friday I’ll invite him in to introduce him. That way the blinds won’t get all bent out of shape.”

  Grammy looked up. “Whatever are you talking about, dear?”

  I canted my head. “Grammy. You just said you saw him, admitting that you were looking out the blinds.”

  “That’s just uncouth, Scarlett,” she mumbled then went back to her puzzle. “There’s goulash in the pot on the stove that’s been heating. Get yourself some,” she added flippantly.

  “Got your homework finished?” I asked Lane as I got out a plate.

  “Yeah. I had to write a poem for English. That’s sissy shit,” he said.

  I didn’t say anything because I knew Grammy would take care of it. And she did. She looked up at Lane for a moment.

  “You like those video games of yours?” she asked.

  Lane grabbed a couple cookies and leaned back against the counter. “Yeah,” he mumbled after taking a bite.

  Between spoonfuls onto my plate, I watched this exchange, quietly chuckling to myself.

  “How much do you like them?”

  “I don’t know. A lot?” Lane knew where this was going.

  “You wanna keep ‘em, you need to watch your mouth.”

  “Got it, Grams.”

  And that was all it took. I sat at the table and ate as we talked about Lane’s game the next night.

  “It’s against Ballard. They lead the league. If we win this one, we’ll get a good seed in the conference tournament,” he informed us as he sat down.

  “Then go win!” I said.

  He laughed. “Not that easy, Scarlett. They’ve got the leading scorer in the conference. Coach Henley says I’m gonna guard him.” He took another bite of cookie. “Gonna shut him down, just watch.”

  “I know you will. What’s he averaging?” I asked.

  “Thirty-one a game.”

  Yikes. “Gonna have to work hard.”

  “Yep. I’m gonna hold him to single digits. You’re coming, right?” he asked, looking like a little boy just then. I was amazed at how he’d grown. He was about five inches taller than I was now and had developed muscles thanks to the workouts he did at school but also to the hodgepodge of weights he kept in his room that I heard him clanking around every now and then. He was also a good kid. Not many fifteen-year-old boys would sit around talking with their sister and grandma.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I smiled at him.

  He got up mumbling something about calling Hannah or Heaven or whichever girl he was “dating” this week and left the table.

  I told Grammy about Jezebel and that Zeke was going to try to fix her in the morning at which she nodded and said that Zeke was not only handsome but he sounded like a nice guy, to which I nodded then she went back to her puzzle. When I finished eating, I rinsed my dishes and put them in the dishwasher and noticed that Lane was standing at the door.

  “Yeah, bud?” I asked.

  “Uh, you think you could ask Zeke to come to my game?” His face got red and I knew it took a lot for him to ask.

  Oh, boy. If I did that, I felt like I’d be going from two years of nothing with a man to jumping right in with Zeke and I didn’t want him to think I was smothering him. Ugh. But I couldn’t tell my brother no, damn it. I knew he missed Dad and was probably excited to have another man in the picture, although he’d be too cool to admit it.

  “I’ll see.”

  He nodded, mumbled a thanks, said goodnight then went to his room.

  “He misses your father,” Grammy muttered.

  “I know. Going to get ready for bed. Night, Grammy.” I leaned down and kissed her cheek then went to take a shower.

  ~*~*~*~

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:44 p.m.

  Zeke: What’re you wearing?

  I’d just put my book down and turned off my lamp when my phone dinged. A thrill ran through me when I saw it was Zeke. Holy crap. I lay there looking at my phone as if I had no clue what it was feeling like I’d been in a time warp or had been living in a bomb shelter fo
r years and modern technology and boys(!) had just been introduced to me. Yeesh. I was so out of practice with this stuff.

  Okay, flirting. I could do this. I think.

  Text message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:50 p.m.

  Me: PJs

  Yeah, nailed it!

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:51 p.m.

  Zeke: And these PJs look like…

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:51 p.m.

  Me: Um, a t-shirt my best friend got me and shorts

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:51 p.m.

  Zeke: Sexy

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:52 p.m.

  Me: Not if you saw what the shirt says

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:52 p.m.

  Zeke: ?

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:53 p.m.

  Me: Jayla’s an English lit major, so it’s silly

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:53 p.m.

  Zeke: Tell me

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:53 p.m.

  Me: It’s stupid

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:53 p.m.

  Zeke: Tell me

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:53 p.m.

  Me: You’ll think it’s dumb

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:54 p.m.

  Zeke: Do I need to come over there to see it for myself?

  EEP!

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:54 p.m.

  Me: Seriously, it’s really stupid

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:54 p.m.

  Zeke: I’m coming over

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:54 p.m.

  Me: NO! Okay, I’ll tell you but you have to promise you won’t think I’m an idiot (or Jay for that matter)

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:55 p.m.

  Zeke: Cross my heart

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:55 p.m.

  Me: Remember, she’s a lit major

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:55 p.m.

  Zeke: That’s it. I’m heading that way

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:55 p.m.

  Me: lol no… here’s what it says…

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:56 p.m.

  Zeke: Waiting

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:57 p.m.

  Zeke: …

  Text Message—Wed, Feb. 25, 11:58 p.m.

  Zeke: You fuckin’ with me, woman?

  I was dying laughing. I know, weird. But it was too funny keeping him waiting. Blame it on the late hour.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:00 a.m.

  Zeke: You have 5 seconds to tell me or you’re gonna regret it…

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:01 a.m.

  Me: Okay, okay :P

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:03 a.m.

  Zeke: Scarlett?

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:03 a.m.

  Me: Yeah?

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:03 a.m.

  Zeke: Know how I said I liked that gorgeous heart-shaped ass of yours?

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:03 a.m.

  Me: Um…

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:04 a.m.

  Zeke: Tell me now or I’ll put you across my lap and spank you

  Holy shit. Uh, that was kind of hot. Damn.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:04 a.m.

  Me: Promises…

  Holy shit again. My fingers even blurted stuff to him.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:04 a.m.

  Zeke: Oh, I can make it happen… just wait… Now tell me

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:05 a.m.

  Me: Well, now it’s been built up so much that it’s not even worth telling you

  He didn’t answer back and now I was sure I’d pissed him off. Damn. Way to go, Scar. Or he was heading over here! Crap!

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:08 a.m.

  Me: You still there?

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:08 a.m.

  Me: Zeke?

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 12:09 a.m.

  Me: Okay, jeez. It says, “Are you a best-seller list ‘cause I’m a book and could be on you for weeks.” Told you it was stupid

  Nothing. I hoped he wasn’t coming over here because I looked like shit with my zit cream dotted on my face. Besides, if Grammy knew he was here, she’d probably make us sit at the table for a Tarot card reading. I set my phone on my nightstand and had just lain down when suddenly it rang which had me sitting up quickly and grabbing it.

  Zeke.

  “Hello?” I answered tentatively, my heart in my friggin’ throat.

  “Babe.”

  I sat waiting for him to continue but when he didn’t I got even more nervous. “Zeke?”

  “Telling you right now, I’m in deep here, babe. I want you… want you all the fucking time. Friday, after our date, you’re at my place. Can you manage that?”

  Whoa. He was in deep? Gah!

  “I think I can manage it,” I whispered.

  “Good. Hanging up now.”

  “Okay, Zeke.”

  “And, Scarlett?”

  “Yes?”

  “You won’t be needing that shirt.” He hung up.

  Oh, my God.

  I put my phone back on my nightstand then flopped back into my bed, kicking my feet and pounding the bed with my fists as I had a girly moment.

  Zeke wanted me! And he wanted me without my shirt! Yes! When I realized how ridiculous that sounded, I started giggling and had to bury my face in my pillow so I didn’t wake the entire house.

  ~*~*~*~

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:29 a.m.

  Me: I know it’s early. Sorry. I forgot to ask last night but my brother put in a request for you to come to his game tonight lol It’s at 7 at Garfield, but if you can’t make it, no big deal. We know you’re busy. Talk to you later xo

  Yep. That was me sending virtual hugs and kisses through text. It’d taken me ten minutes to decide on keeping them in there and when I hit “Send” I’d cringed hoping I wasn’t being too forward. Then I texted Jay.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:29 a.m.

  Me: Can you pick me up for work, please? Jez died *cries* I’ll owe you big time ; )

  I was also going to have to ask her for a ride to class then to Lane’s game. Ugh.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:31 a.m.

  Jay: Yes. Need a ride to class too?

  God, best friend ever.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:31 a.m.

  Me: If you don’t mind. Sorry.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:31 a.m.

  Jay: Shut up. I’ll be there in 30

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:32 a.m.

  Me: I love you in the morning >.<

  Jay was the worst morning person ever. I set my phone on the toilet lid as I brushed my teeth and heard it ding again, grinning because I knew this next text from her was going to be full of every cuss word ever invented.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:34 a.m.

  Zeke: I’ll be there. Check outside

  I almost dropped my phone in the sink when I picked it up. Then I ran out of the bathroom, toothbrush still hanging out of my mouth and looked out the window to see Jezebel sitting in the drive and burst into tears.

  Oh, my God.

  He was amazing. I texted him through blurry eyes.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:36 a.m.

  Me: OMG I don’t know how to thank you…

  “You okay, sister?” Grammy asked from where she stood at the stove frying her usual two eggs sunny side up for herself then she’d scramble four for Lane.

  I took my toothbrush out of my mouth and went to the sink, still sobbing like a baby. After rinsing and spitting, I grabbed a hand towel off the hook and dabbed at my eyes. “Zeke fixed Jezebel.” I started crying again.

  “I see that,” she said, using the spatula to put her eggs on her plate. “Also talked to him.”

  My head jerked up. “What?”


  She nodded as she buttered two pieces of toast then sat at the table. “Yep. Shoulder was aching and woke me, so I got up. I heard a noise outside while waiting for the coffee to brew, looked out and saw two good-looking guys in the drive, so I went out to see what was up.”

  My eyes got big. “Grammy, please tell me you weren’t wearing what you’re wearing,” I begged.

  She frowned. “What’s wrong with what I’ve got on?”

  “Well, nothing, I guess… unless you put the hood up.”

  “Of course, I put the hood up. Chilly out there this morning!”

  Oh, lord. Another thing about Grammy was her crazy sense of humor. She was wearing the green Yoda robe with bell sleeves and hood that Lane and I had gotten her for Christmas. We’d thought it perfect because she was so wise (and she loved Star Wars, so win-win), and when she’d opened it, Lane and I had said in unison, “With you, the Force is strong. Like or like not. There is no return,” and she’d cracked up then put it on immediately. And now she’d gone outside to see my hot guy not-yet-boyfriend with the hood up that had pointy ears.

  “What?” she asked as I stared at her. “They said it was cute, so I told them they were cute.” When I brought my hand to my forehead she chuckled. “Go get ready before you’re late.”

  Shaking my head and snorting out a laugh, I bent and kissed her cheek then left the kitchen, passing Lane in the hallway.

  “Hey, bud,” I said as he shuffled to his room from the bathroom. He groaned something unintelligible then closed his door behind him. Kid was as bad as Jay in the morning. In the bathroom, I put my toothbrush away then texted Jay that I didn’t need a ride. I was already dressed in jeans and a work t-shirt so I put my hair up in a high ponytail and after applying some blush, mascara and lip gloss, I heard my phone ding.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:47 a.m.

  Zeke: Already told you I’ve got some ideas…

  If his ideas involved us being naked, well, I couldn’t say I was opposed. Yep. Fix my car and I turned into Insta-slut. Jeez.

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:48 a.m.

  Me: Would love to hear them ; ) Gotta get to work. Talk later?

  Text Message—Thurs, Feb. 26, 5:48 a.m.

  Zeke: Later, babe

  I sighed as I left the bathroom loving the way my day had started. And, damn, I had this flirting thing down now!