Cannon strode over to the other side of the truck, away from the women.
That suited Armie perfectly. Fuck if he couldn’t feel Rissy right there, only a few feet away. The more distance he put between them, the easier he’d breathe.
He looked at Yvette. “Mind grabbing me something cold to drink?”
Yvette said, “Oh, uh...” She glanced at Rissy.
He did not.
“They want privacy,” Rissy said with a huff. “He knows better than to send me off on a made-up errand, but I guess he figures you’re easier to dupe.”
“Or just nicer,” he heard himself say. Then he cursed under his breath.
From the other side of the truck, Cannon tried to play referee. “Play nice, Rissy.”
She feigned innocent confusion, making an O of her mouth and batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated way. “But I thought you wanted Armie’s help? And if I’m nice, won’t that scare him into next week?”
“Rissy,” Armie warned, with no effect at all.
“He’s liable to scream in terror and run away, then how can he assist you?”
“Actually,” Cannon said, saving his ass from saying something he’d later regret, “I’m thirsty, too. So how about a couple of cold ones?”
“For you, sure.” She hooked her arm through Yvette’s and dragged the poor confused girl along with her.
Armie watched them walk away—until Cannon gave him a shove, half knocking him into the side of the truck.
He hadn’t even noticed Cannon coming close again. “What the hell?”
“You were picturing another threesome, and shit like that just might get you killed.”
Appalled, Armie straightened with knotted fists. “The hell I was! One is your sister.” And never would he involve her in anything that sordid, not even in make-believe. When he thought about sex with Rissy—and yeah, he did—it was only the two of them. “The other is your girlfriend. I’ll admit I’m a bastard, but I’m not that low.”
Cannon considered him, then hitched his shoulders and rolled his head as if trying to loosen his coiled muscles. “Sorry.”
Taking pity on him, Armie lightened his tone. “Actually, I was kind of amused at the differences. I mean, with Rissy so damned tall.” So leggy. “And Yvette so petite. Other than the long dark hair, they’re as mismatched as can be.”
“Yeah.” Cannon ran both hands through his hair and paced away.
Crossing his arms and leaning back on the truck, Armie read his agitation. “So what’s really going on?”
“Her f**ked-up boyfriend might be in town.”
“No shit?”
“Her girlfriend called last night and said Heath had hopped a plane. He posted some nonsense on his Facebook about reclaiming what’s his.”
“You think he’s already here?” He nodded at the tires. “You think he did this?”
“No idea, but I don’t like it.”
“What can I do to help? Besides giving you a ride today, I mean.”
“Would you mind helping me put up that extra security here that you mentioned?”
Oh, hell, no. He swallowed. “Here?”
“Yeah.” Cannon watched the door. “I don’t want to alarm Rissy or Yvette, but I’ve got a bad feeling about things.”
“Her ex is that bad?”
“Maybe. From what Yvette’s told me, he’s the stalker type. But I swear, it feels like more than that.”
Rissy worked during the day. He could get Stack or Miles to cover things at the rec center and come by then so that he didn’t have to butt heads with her.
So he didn’t have to resist her.
“Yeah, sure. Glad to help out. You know that.” Armie figured they could wrap it up in just a few hours. Surely he could keep it together that long.
“Hey, guys.”
They both looked up to see a sleep-rumpled Cherry Peyton approach with two dewy cans of Coke. Her dark blond hair bounced as she walked and mascara was smudged under her brown eyes.
“Cherry.” Now, there was a woman he could lust after, Armie thought. “Did we wake you?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Rissy did. Slamming cabinets and cursing you.”
He drew back. “Me? What’d I do?” But yeah, he knew.
All teasing and flirting, she leaned in. “Now, Armie, what haven’t you done?”
The grin slipped in on him. “You got me there.” He took a Coke from her.
She handed the other to Cannon.
“Thanks.” Cannon popped the tab. “Late night?”
Covering a jaw-stretching yawn, she nodded. “We got in late,” she said around her hand. “Then I couldn’t get to sleep. I tossed and turned and finally passed out this morning.”
Charmed by her, Armie grinned. Yeah, he knew Denver was sweet on her so he wouldn’t overstep. But he could have some fun all the same. “A drink might’ve helped.”
“Tried that, actually, with a glass of wine.”
“Then maybe it was a man you needed.”
Cannon cautioned him with a scowl.
Laughing, Cherry smacked his arm, then admitted, “Maybe,” before sauntering off again.
Her snug sleep shorts and a clingy tank top looked sexy enough to keep his thoughts occupied watching her walk.
As she disappeared through the front door, Cannon opened his mouth—and Armie said, “Save it. It’s too late. I already have that fantasy locked away.”
That suited Armie perfectly. Fuck if he couldn’t feel Rissy right there, only a few feet away. The more distance he put between them, the easier he’d breathe.
He looked at Yvette. “Mind grabbing me something cold to drink?”
Yvette said, “Oh, uh...” She glanced at Rissy.
He did not.
“They want privacy,” Rissy said with a huff. “He knows better than to send me off on a made-up errand, but I guess he figures you’re easier to dupe.”
“Or just nicer,” he heard himself say. Then he cursed under his breath.
From the other side of the truck, Cannon tried to play referee. “Play nice, Rissy.”
She feigned innocent confusion, making an O of her mouth and batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated way. “But I thought you wanted Armie’s help? And if I’m nice, won’t that scare him into next week?”
“Rissy,” Armie warned, with no effect at all.
“He’s liable to scream in terror and run away, then how can he assist you?”
“Actually,” Cannon said, saving his ass from saying something he’d later regret, “I’m thirsty, too. So how about a couple of cold ones?”
“For you, sure.” She hooked her arm through Yvette’s and dragged the poor confused girl along with her.
Armie watched them walk away—until Cannon gave him a shove, half knocking him into the side of the truck.
He hadn’t even noticed Cannon coming close again. “What the hell?”
“You were picturing another threesome, and shit like that just might get you killed.”
Appalled, Armie straightened with knotted fists. “The hell I was! One is your sister.” And never would he involve her in anything that sordid, not even in make-believe. When he thought about sex with Rissy—and yeah, he did—it was only the two of them. “The other is your girlfriend. I’ll admit I’m a bastard, but I’m not that low.”
Cannon considered him, then hitched his shoulders and rolled his head as if trying to loosen his coiled muscles. “Sorry.”
Taking pity on him, Armie lightened his tone. “Actually, I was kind of amused at the differences. I mean, with Rissy so damned tall.” So leggy. “And Yvette so petite. Other than the long dark hair, they’re as mismatched as can be.”
“Yeah.” Cannon ran both hands through his hair and paced away.
Crossing his arms and leaning back on the truck, Armie read his agitation. “So what’s really going on?”
“Her f**ked-up boyfriend might be in town.”
“No shit?”
“Her girlfriend called last night and said Heath had hopped a plane. He posted some nonsense on his Facebook about reclaiming what’s his.”
“You think he’s already here?” He nodded at the tires. “You think he did this?”
“No idea, but I don’t like it.”
“What can I do to help? Besides giving you a ride today, I mean.”
“Would you mind helping me put up that extra security here that you mentioned?”
Oh, hell, no. He swallowed. “Here?”
“Yeah.” Cannon watched the door. “I don’t want to alarm Rissy or Yvette, but I’ve got a bad feeling about things.”
“Her ex is that bad?”
“Maybe. From what Yvette’s told me, he’s the stalker type. But I swear, it feels like more than that.”
Rissy worked during the day. He could get Stack or Miles to cover things at the rec center and come by then so that he didn’t have to butt heads with her.
So he didn’t have to resist her.
“Yeah, sure. Glad to help out. You know that.” Armie figured they could wrap it up in just a few hours. Surely he could keep it together that long.
“Hey, guys.”
They both looked up to see a sleep-rumpled Cherry Peyton approach with two dewy cans of Coke. Her dark blond hair bounced as she walked and mascara was smudged under her brown eyes.
“Cherry.” Now, there was a woman he could lust after, Armie thought. “Did we wake you?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Rissy did. Slamming cabinets and cursing you.”
He drew back. “Me? What’d I do?” But yeah, he knew.
All teasing and flirting, she leaned in. “Now, Armie, what haven’t you done?”
The grin slipped in on him. “You got me there.” He took a Coke from her.
She handed the other to Cannon.
“Thanks.” Cannon popped the tab. “Late night?”
Covering a jaw-stretching yawn, she nodded. “We got in late,” she said around her hand. “Then I couldn’t get to sleep. I tossed and turned and finally passed out this morning.”
Charmed by her, Armie grinned. Yeah, he knew Denver was sweet on her so he wouldn’t overstep. But he could have some fun all the same. “A drink might’ve helped.”
“Tried that, actually, with a glass of wine.”
“Then maybe it was a man you needed.”
Cannon cautioned him with a scowl.
Laughing, Cherry smacked his arm, then admitted, “Maybe,” before sauntering off again.
Her snug sleep shorts and a clingy tank top looked sexy enough to keep his thoughts occupied watching her walk.
As she disappeared through the front door, Cannon opened his mouth—and Armie said, “Save it. It’s too late. I already have that fantasy locked away.”
