Holding Strong
Page 115
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
She nodded fast. “Of course.” And then with less confidence, “What did you tell him?”
“That you’re special.”
Her lips parted. “Really? I mean, I am?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Very special.”
Looking more than a little dazed, Cherry stayed quiet for the remainder of their ride to Merissa’s house. Denver would have loved to know her thoughts, and usually he could sense them. But on occasion she could be so unreadable.
Her silence would have worried him, except for that small smile playing at her lips.
“Hey.”
Brows up, she turned her head toward him. “Hmm?”
As he parked, he said, “How about you go grab your keys and I can take a look at your car before we head to my place? That way I’ll know if I need to pick up anything to fix it.”
“Are you sure you want to bother with this? You have so much you’re juggling already. I know your free time is precious.”
Not as much so as his time with her. “It’s not a problem.” He drew her in for a soft kiss. “Grab enough clothes so you can stay the night again.” Rather than give her a chance to question that, he said, “It’ll save me time in the morning.”
That’s all it took to get her hustling. Denver went to her car and opened the hood to look inside, but nothing appeared amiss. When he heard voices he turned his head and saw Cherry exit the house with Merissa following her, both ladies chatting and happy.
Merissa wore shorts and an SBC T-shirt that, given its size, probably belonged to her brother, Cannon. She had a sandwich in one hand, a cola in the other.
She followed as Cherry stored a pile of her belongings in the backseat of Denver’s ride. Seeing the two of them together always made him smile. Merissa was nearly as tall as her brother, but where Cannon was muscular, she was willowy. They shared the same light blue eyes.
In contrast, Cherry was shorter, rounder, her shoulder-length blond hair bouncy instead of straight.
They were both lookers but in very different ways.
Denver watched as they approached.
“Moving pretty fast, aren’t you, Predator?”
He gave Merissa points for keeping her gaze on his face this time even as he grinned at her use of his fight name. “You think?”
Cherry snorted. “Seems pretty slow to me.”
Giving her a hug, he said, “Then I’ll see what I can do about making up for lost time.”
“There you go,” Merissa said, propping a slim hip against the fender and saluting him with the remainder of her cola.
Denver leaned back over the engine. “I don’t see anything wrong. Turn the key a few times for me, will you?” If it was just a dead battery, that’d be easy enough.
Cherry walked around him to the driver’s door, opened it—and screamed so loudly that Denver hit his head on the hood.
Cursing, feeling a trickle of blood run down his temple, he squared off for a threat only to see Cherry slapping at her clothes and hair, backpedaling in a high-pitched panic.
And no wonder. A dozen or more snakes spilled out of the car, writhing on the ground, mouths open, bodies coiled. Mixed with that horror, massive spiders, roaches, locusts and other creepy bugs fluttered and flew around the car.
“Ack!” Merissa dropped her cola and ran all the way to the house, darting inside.
After kicking the driver’s door shut, Denver grabbed a wide-eyed, horrified Cherry, who continued to dance and screech while he shooed bugs away and ensured no snakes were near her.
“Shh. It’s okay, baby.” Holding her close, he pulled her around to the driveway. The snakes probably weren’t poisonous, but he didn’t know for sure. They didn’t look like the little garter snakes he used to see as a kid, and since moving to the more urban setting of Warfield, well, he hadn’t seen a snake.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod...”
“Are you okay?” He brushed Cherry’s hair back and in the process dislodged an enormous praying mantis that took flight. Luckily she didn’t seem to realize. “Cherry?”
Face pale with shock, she looked at the car—and screamed again. Denver turned to see a brown-and-black snake, probably four feet long, slithering across the street.
“Shit.” He gave Cherry a squeeze. “Go get me a rake or something, and maybe a garbage can with a lid, or at least a garbage bag.”
She blinked big dazed eyes at him. “Your head is bleeding!”
“It’s fine.”
“But...”
“Shh.” Again he squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sorry, girl, but I don’t know if those snakes are dangerous or not, so I need you to hustle up and get what I need.”
“That you’re special.”
Her lips parted. “Really? I mean, I am?”
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Very special.”
Looking more than a little dazed, Cherry stayed quiet for the remainder of their ride to Merissa’s house. Denver would have loved to know her thoughts, and usually he could sense them. But on occasion she could be so unreadable.
Her silence would have worried him, except for that small smile playing at her lips.
“Hey.”
Brows up, she turned her head toward him. “Hmm?”
As he parked, he said, “How about you go grab your keys and I can take a look at your car before we head to my place? That way I’ll know if I need to pick up anything to fix it.”
“Are you sure you want to bother with this? You have so much you’re juggling already. I know your free time is precious.”
Not as much so as his time with her. “It’s not a problem.” He drew her in for a soft kiss. “Grab enough clothes so you can stay the night again.” Rather than give her a chance to question that, he said, “It’ll save me time in the morning.”
That’s all it took to get her hustling. Denver went to her car and opened the hood to look inside, but nothing appeared amiss. When he heard voices he turned his head and saw Cherry exit the house with Merissa following her, both ladies chatting and happy.
Merissa wore shorts and an SBC T-shirt that, given its size, probably belonged to her brother, Cannon. She had a sandwich in one hand, a cola in the other.
She followed as Cherry stored a pile of her belongings in the backseat of Denver’s ride. Seeing the two of them together always made him smile. Merissa was nearly as tall as her brother, but where Cannon was muscular, she was willowy. They shared the same light blue eyes.
In contrast, Cherry was shorter, rounder, her shoulder-length blond hair bouncy instead of straight.
They were both lookers but in very different ways.
Denver watched as they approached.
“Moving pretty fast, aren’t you, Predator?”
He gave Merissa points for keeping her gaze on his face this time even as he grinned at her use of his fight name. “You think?”
Cherry snorted. “Seems pretty slow to me.”
Giving her a hug, he said, “Then I’ll see what I can do about making up for lost time.”
“There you go,” Merissa said, propping a slim hip against the fender and saluting him with the remainder of her cola.
Denver leaned back over the engine. “I don’t see anything wrong. Turn the key a few times for me, will you?” If it was just a dead battery, that’d be easy enough.
Cherry walked around him to the driver’s door, opened it—and screamed so loudly that Denver hit his head on the hood.
Cursing, feeling a trickle of blood run down his temple, he squared off for a threat only to see Cherry slapping at her clothes and hair, backpedaling in a high-pitched panic.
And no wonder. A dozen or more snakes spilled out of the car, writhing on the ground, mouths open, bodies coiled. Mixed with that horror, massive spiders, roaches, locusts and other creepy bugs fluttered and flew around the car.
“Ack!” Merissa dropped her cola and ran all the way to the house, darting inside.
After kicking the driver’s door shut, Denver grabbed a wide-eyed, horrified Cherry, who continued to dance and screech while he shooed bugs away and ensured no snakes were near her.
“Shh. It’s okay, baby.” Holding her close, he pulled her around to the driveway. The snakes probably weren’t poisonous, but he didn’t know for sure. They didn’t look like the little garter snakes he used to see as a kid, and since moving to the more urban setting of Warfield, well, he hadn’t seen a snake.
“Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod...”
“Are you okay?” He brushed Cherry’s hair back and in the process dislodged an enormous praying mantis that took flight. Luckily she didn’t seem to realize. “Cherry?”
Face pale with shock, she looked at the car—and screamed again. Denver turned to see a brown-and-black snake, probably four feet long, slithering across the street.
“Shit.” He gave Cherry a squeeze. “Go get me a rake or something, and maybe a garbage can with a lid, or at least a garbage bag.”
She blinked big dazed eyes at him. “Your head is bleeding!”
“It’s fine.”
“But...”
“Shh.” Again he squeezed her shoulders. “I’m sorry, girl, but I don’t know if those snakes are dangerous or not, so I need you to hustle up and get what I need.”
