Page 37

Stupid

Wyatt

“Storm, leave her,” I order when Genevieve’s head falls against my shoulder and Storm presses his face close to hers to make sure she’s okay. Whining, he looks at her, then me. “She’s fine,” I assure him, and after a huff he walks in a tight circle on the seat, then curls himself up into a ball next to her hip.

When I hear her soft snore, I adjust my arm and wrap it around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and she curls herself against my chest like she’s been doing it for years.

I’m not surprised she’s exhausted. Whatever she thought the work involved in printing signs would be, it was ten times more than that. There was lots of heavy lifting, with even more running around to make sure that things were being cut and printed properly. And the machines that Shauna uses are slow, so it took all day to get the hundred signs completed before we could leave.

It was a long, exhausting day and not exactly the way that I would have chosen to spend my day off, but I can’t deny that I liked spending the day with her. I already knew that she is funny in that sarcastic way of hers that is charming. But she’s also unbelievably smart, and she had no issue getting her hands dirty or working hard. Despite the pretty package she’s wrapped up in, she never once complained or whined about chipping her nail polish or getting sweaty.

To say that I’m screwed is an understatement. I thought that I could write off my attraction as her just being another beautiful woman, but after the kiss we shared, and after finding out more about her, I know that won’t be possible.

And I want to get to know her better. I want to know more about her past, about her goals and the things that make her happy.

I’ve never met anyone like her before. At least, I’ve never met a woman like her before, and her ex is a fucking idiot for letting her go.

How he could have had her in his grasp, his ring on her finger, and her body in his bed, and fuck around is something I cannot fathom. The guy must have a few screws loose.

As I pull onto our block and her house comes into view, I wonder how she’d feel if I ask her to come to my place for dinner tonight or suggest that I order us food to eat at her house.

After I kissed her, she never addressed what had happened. Actually, she didn’t act like it had happened at all. But she also didn’t avoid me all day like she could have easily done. She also didn’t hesitate to sit in the middle seat, close to me, on the way home when I suggested that we put Storm next to the door, so I’m taking that to mean she isn’t completely freaked out about the kiss.

When I pull into her driveway and put the engine in park, her head comes up off my shoulder, and her hand slides away from my stomach as she sits up.

“I fell asleep,” she says groggily, looking around, and my fingers twitch with the urge to reach out and touch her.

“It was a long day.”

“What time is it?” she asks, grabbing her bag and water bottle from the floorboard.

“A little after seven,” I tell her after looking at the clock on the dash. “I was thinking that we could get something to eat.”

“Oh.” She stops what she’s doing to look at me.

“We could order in.”

“Do you think that’s smart?” she asks softly. The truth is I know that spending more time with her is as stupid as kissing her was, but being smart went out the window the day we met and I got a feeling in the pit of my stomach that screamed at me that I should toss her over my shoulder like a caveman and lock her away from the rest of the world.

“Probably not.” I stare at her as she stares back.

“My mom can never know that we are spending time together.”

“I might like your mom, but I’m not sitting in on knitting-club night, sharing shit with the gossip-girls crew,” I tell her, and she lets out a soft laugh.

“What do you want to eat?”

I’m half tempted to say “You,” but I tuck away the urge. “It’s Sunday, so there won’t be many options. I think the Chinese place in town is still open and delivering, and so is the pizza place.”

“Chinese sounds good.”

“Are you good with going to my place so I can feed Storm?”

“Yeah, I’m okay with that,” she says, so I put the engine in reverse and back out of her driveway. When we get to my place a few minutes later, Storm runs inside ahead of us and goes right to his food and water. Even though he had a good time making new friends today and running free on Shauna’s property, I know he missed his space and his things.

“You can drop your shit there,” I tell Genevieve, pointing at the couch when she takes off her coat.

“This is cute.” She looks around. “How long have you lived here?”