Read Online Alluring Infatuation by Skye Turner, Kari Ayasha - Free Book Online
Authors: Skye Turner, Kari Ayasha
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dejectedly, “Why? What do we have to talk about, Dade? What’s the point?”
Grabbing my hair before squeezing the back of my neck, I tell her honestly. “I’d like to talk about the stuff we didn’t talk about before. Can we do that? Without screaming at each other or flinging insults?”
Staring into my eyes, she rubs the middle of her forehead and purses her lips. She nods slowly. “Ok. But not tonight. I can’t. I’ve had a really long day and I have a surgery in the morning. I need rest.”
I let out the breath I was holding and smile. “Ok.” I reach out my hand, “Give me your phone.”
Her eyes widen and she opens and closes her mouth before she asks, “My phone?! What?”
I point and reach over her, grabbing the phone out of the cup holder. Swiping the screen, it unlocks it. Grunting, I say, “No lock code?!” She shakes her head as I open her contacts and add myself and my number. Then I lean back, take a selfie, and save the photo before handing it back to her. She wrinkles her nose as she stares at the phone in her hand. The urge to kiss away her confusion overcomes me. I force it down.
She just looks at me. I smile. She looks away and swallows before sighing and looking back.
I say, “Text me.”
“Huh?”
Chuckling, I point at the phone again. “You. Text me. Right now. So I can save the number.”
“Oh… Oh, right.” She clicks a few keys and then presses the screen.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Opening the text, I laugh.
“555-555-0091:
You are a seriously perplexing man. Call me tomorrow. After 4pm.”
Looking at her, I see her hiding a smile. I save her info and add her name, before replying.
“Dade:
Yes, Ma’am.
PS. You look incredibly sexy, all professional like.”
She reads the text, and then shaking her head and trying to hide a smile, she closes the door and as I step back, she backs out and drives out of the lot.
Chuckling and whistling, I head to my truck a few rows away.
Well, that was unexpected. I have her number now.
I’m not sure what I’ll do for the rest of the night since it’s only 9PM and I’m not tired. On my way back to Baton Rouge, I send a mass text out.
“Dade:
Be in BR in about an hour. Anyone want to get a drink?”
My phone stays quiet until I get to the city limits.
“Cruz:
YES. Where do you want to meet up?”
I’m driving, so I call him. We talk for a minute and decide on heading to the house. He says he’ll meet me there. He sounds strange.
I get home and see Liam’s truck and Clove’s new car in the garage, so I pull the truck up next to my Hummer and hop out. I can hear them talking and laughing in their room. I head into the media room, and crack open a beer as I wait for Cruz to get there.
I’m flipping through the guide when he walks in. He walks over to the bar and grabs a shot glass and a bottle of Jager before plopping back onto the couch. That is not like him. At all. I look at him, waiting for him to tell me what’s going on.
He opens the bottle and pours a shot. Slamming it back, he coughs as it goes down.
“You sure you don’t want a chaser with that?”
He grunts. “No. I’m good.” And pours two more, back to back.
I’m getting concerned. Cruz doesn’t drink like this. “What’s wrong, man? What’s up?”
He looks at me and I can’t decipher the look in his eyes, but I know him well enough to be alarmed. He takes another shot and stares at the wall.
That’s three shots in less than two minutes. What the hell?
“I had a message on my machine today when I got home.”
Who would be calling him and why would it upset him this much?! I ask, “And? Who was it?”
He looks at me. His face is drawn tight and his eyes are wild. “The prison. It seems my sperm donor is up for parole again in about six weeks and he has a really good chance of getting out this time.”
I frown. Now it’s making sense. “Really? I thought he had time added onto his sentence?”
Cruz laughs harshly.
Grabbing my hair before squeezing the back of my neck, I tell her honestly. “I’d like to talk about the stuff we didn’t talk about before. Can we do that? Without screaming at each other or flinging insults?”
Staring into my eyes, she rubs the middle of her forehead and purses her lips. She nods slowly. “Ok. But not tonight. I can’t. I’ve had a really long day and I have a surgery in the morning. I need rest.”
I let out the breath I was holding and smile. “Ok.” I reach out my hand, “Give me your phone.”
Her eyes widen and she opens and closes her mouth before she asks, “My phone?! What?”
I point and reach over her, grabbing the phone out of the cup holder. Swiping the screen, it unlocks it. Grunting, I say, “No lock code?!” She shakes her head as I open her contacts and add myself and my number. Then I lean back, take a selfie, and save the photo before handing it back to her. She wrinkles her nose as she stares at the phone in her hand. The urge to kiss away her confusion overcomes me. I force it down.
She just looks at me. I smile. She looks away and swallows before sighing and looking back.
I say, “Text me.”
“Huh?”
Chuckling, I point at the phone again. “You. Text me. Right now. So I can save the number.”
“Oh… Oh, right.” She clicks a few keys and then presses the screen.
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Opening the text, I laugh.
“555-555-0091:
You are a seriously perplexing man. Call me tomorrow. After 4pm.”
Looking at her, I see her hiding a smile. I save her info and add her name, before replying.
“Dade:
Yes, Ma’am.
PS. You look incredibly sexy, all professional like.”
She reads the text, and then shaking her head and trying to hide a smile, she closes the door and as I step back, she backs out and drives out of the lot.
Chuckling and whistling, I head to my truck a few rows away.
Well, that was unexpected. I have her number now.
I’m not sure what I’ll do for the rest of the night since it’s only 9PM and I’m not tired. On my way back to Baton Rouge, I send a mass text out.
“Dade:
Be in BR in about an hour. Anyone want to get a drink?”
My phone stays quiet until I get to the city limits.
“Cruz:
YES. Where do you want to meet up?”
I’m driving, so I call him. We talk for a minute and decide on heading to the house. He says he’ll meet me there. He sounds strange.
I get home and see Liam’s truck and Clove’s new car in the garage, so I pull the truck up next to my Hummer and hop out. I can hear them talking and laughing in their room. I head into the media room, and crack open a beer as I wait for Cruz to get there.
I’m flipping through the guide when he walks in. He walks over to the bar and grabs a shot glass and a bottle of Jager before plopping back onto the couch. That is not like him. At all. I look at him, waiting for him to tell me what’s going on.
He opens the bottle and pours a shot. Slamming it back, he coughs as it goes down.
“You sure you don’t want a chaser with that?”
He grunts. “No. I’m good.” And pours two more, back to back.
I’m getting concerned. Cruz doesn’t drink like this. “What’s wrong, man? What’s up?”
He looks at me and I can’t decipher the look in his eyes, but I know him well enough to be alarmed. He takes another shot and stares at the wall.
That’s three shots in less than two minutes. What the hell?
“I had a message on my machine today when I got home.”
Who would be calling him and why would it upset him this much?! I ask, “And? Who was it?”
He looks at me. His face is drawn tight and his eyes are wild. “The prison. It seems my sperm donor is up for parole again in about six weeks and he has a really good chance of getting out this time.”
I frown. Now it’s making sense. “Really? I thought he had time added onto his sentence?”
Cruz laughs harshly.
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