Read Online The Sweet Under His Skin by Portia Gray - Free Book Online
Authors: Portia Gray
Tags: Suspense, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, romantic suspense, New Adult & College, Mystery & Suspense
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or if he didn't bring it home just because he didn't want to go. Still. Turning nine with Aunt Arielle and Aunt Thelma as the only guests at your party was pretty sad. At least she'd managed to find a motorcycle cake. She was sure he was going to love it.
She climbed the stairs to the kitchen again, noticing how out-of-breath she was from the effort. Arielle took a moment to sit a spell, knowing this exhaustion was another symptom. Two more days until surgery. Luckily she had this birthday supper to distract her from the approaching event that had her terrified stupid.
Calvin was reading outside again. Their frightening neighbor was gone so he was bored, had been for a few days now. Arielle felt relief every day that passed without that bike returning to the driveway but Calvin was clearly missing him.
Her cheekbone had swelled. It was still yellowed from the burst blood vessels. But her lip was healed now. And she was still furious about what happened. Not at Quentin attacking Clark Davidson. She was angry that she hadn't been able to do it herself.
When she'd confronted him on the driveway she's noticed his hands. He wore a lot of rings, and they would certainly hurt. But his knuckles had also been cut and bleeding, and she hoped it was because Clark Davidson had lost a few teeth. As much as the thought pleased her, it still made her nervous that Quentin had gone off on the guy like a guard dog. She didn't know what that meant. She didn't know the guy. Defending Calvin would have made sense. They were becoming‘bestest buddies’, after all. But her? She couldn't get rid of the fear she'd owe him one somewhere down the line.
And owing Quentin Bayle something, made her uneasy.
Arielle had only seen him twice since that day, which was about three weeks ago. The first time was the day after that incident. Calvin had been‘helping’Quentin that afternoon, and he had knocked on her screen door, didn't try to enter the house, just asked through the open screen if it would be "cool if Calvin had a root beer."
The second time was when he left on whatever excursion he was currently on. She was helping Calvin carry his library books to the car the day after school finished to turn them in for new ones, and Quentin was packing the bags on his bike.
The strangest thing happened. She watched Calvin interact with a friend.
"Where you headed buddy?" came Quentin's call.
Calvin smiled, bounding to the fence. "To the library."
"Yeah? They got Playboy there?"
Arielle cringed. Calvin tilted his head. "What's that?"
"Jesus Christ, Charlie. Sure you're a boy?"
"Yeah."
Quentin had laughed at that, standing next to his bike, hands on his hips. "Read me another one, buddy."
Calvin flipped open the paperback on top of his pile of library books and read aloud from a page. "’The test of the machine is the satisfaction it gives you. There isn't any other test. If the machine produces tranquility it's right. If it disturbs you it's wrong until either the machine or your mind is changed’."
Arielle had been watching Quentin’s face while Calvin read to him. He got very still, his smile faded a little bit, and Arielle would swear on a stack of bibles that he was not only listening but absorbing. Then he held out a fist. "Right on, little man."
Calvin bumped fists with him. "Where are you going?"
"Business trip. Gone a few days."
"Bring me back a birthday present?"
"Calvin—" Arielle was about to intervene but Quentin was answering.
"Oh shit, you got a birthday coming up?" His tone indicated he was pretending to have forgotten.
Calvin tilted his head. "I only told you a hundred times."
"Sorry man, I'm getting old. My memory's pretty bad."
"Q—" Calvin's exasperation actually cracked him up and Quentin mussed Calvin's hair over the fence.
"I'm on it, Calvin. Don't worry."
"Be careful, Q."
"I will, little man," Quentin promised with a dying chuckle. "Thanks." Then his head came up and she assumed Quentin was looking at
She climbed the stairs to the kitchen again, noticing how out-of-breath she was from the effort. Arielle took a moment to sit a spell, knowing this exhaustion was another symptom. Two more days until surgery. Luckily she had this birthday supper to distract her from the approaching event that had her terrified stupid.
Calvin was reading outside again. Their frightening neighbor was gone so he was bored, had been for a few days now. Arielle felt relief every day that passed without that bike returning to the driveway but Calvin was clearly missing him.
Her cheekbone had swelled. It was still yellowed from the burst blood vessels. But her lip was healed now. And she was still furious about what happened. Not at Quentin attacking Clark Davidson. She was angry that she hadn't been able to do it herself.
When she'd confronted him on the driveway she's noticed his hands. He wore a lot of rings, and they would certainly hurt. But his knuckles had also been cut and bleeding, and she hoped it was because Clark Davidson had lost a few teeth. As much as the thought pleased her, it still made her nervous that Quentin had gone off on the guy like a guard dog. She didn't know what that meant. She didn't know the guy. Defending Calvin would have made sense. They were becoming‘bestest buddies’, after all. But her? She couldn't get rid of the fear she'd owe him one somewhere down the line.
And owing Quentin Bayle something, made her uneasy.
Arielle had only seen him twice since that day, which was about three weeks ago. The first time was the day after that incident. Calvin had been‘helping’Quentin that afternoon, and he had knocked on her screen door, didn't try to enter the house, just asked through the open screen if it would be "cool if Calvin had a root beer."
The second time was when he left on whatever excursion he was currently on. She was helping Calvin carry his library books to the car the day after school finished to turn them in for new ones, and Quentin was packing the bags on his bike.
The strangest thing happened. She watched Calvin interact with a friend.
"Where you headed buddy?" came Quentin's call.
Calvin smiled, bounding to the fence. "To the library."
"Yeah? They got Playboy there?"
Arielle cringed. Calvin tilted his head. "What's that?"
"Jesus Christ, Charlie. Sure you're a boy?"
"Yeah."
Quentin had laughed at that, standing next to his bike, hands on his hips. "Read me another one, buddy."
Calvin flipped open the paperback on top of his pile of library books and read aloud from a page. "’The test of the machine is the satisfaction it gives you. There isn't any other test. If the machine produces tranquility it's right. If it disturbs you it's wrong until either the machine or your mind is changed’."
Arielle had been watching Quentin’s face while Calvin read to him. He got very still, his smile faded a little bit, and Arielle would swear on a stack of bibles that he was not only listening but absorbing. Then he held out a fist. "Right on, little man."
Calvin bumped fists with him. "Where are you going?"
"Business trip. Gone a few days."
"Bring me back a birthday present?"
"Calvin—" Arielle was about to intervene but Quentin was answering.
"Oh shit, you got a birthday coming up?" His tone indicated he was pretending to have forgotten.
Calvin tilted his head. "I only told you a hundred times."
"Sorry man, I'm getting old. My memory's pretty bad."
"Q—" Calvin's exasperation actually cracked him up and Quentin mussed Calvin's hair over the fence.
"I'm on it, Calvin. Don't worry."
"Be careful, Q."
"I will, little man," Quentin promised with a dying chuckle. "Thanks." Then his head came up and she assumed Quentin was looking at
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