Wicked White
Page 21

 Michelle A. Valentine

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She grabs my elbows and pulls my hands away from my face. “I do, but I also remember how fast you fell for him back in high school only to find out what a rat bastard he really was right after graduation. I don’t want you to invest your heart into some other creep without knowing what he’s really like first.”
I sigh. “Not every guy is going to screw every available woman within a ten-mile radius like Tanner did. Besides, relationships are built on trust—without that you have nothing.”
“Still, promise me that you’ll check him out before you go falling in love with him.”
Her concern for me is sweet, and I love her for it, but I don’t share her same suspicion of my sexy new neighbor.
After Birdie leaves to head to work, the rest of the afternoon drags on. Digging through Gran’s closet both makes me smile and cry. On one hand it’s nice to remember her, but on the other it guts me knowing that she’s never coming back—that I’ll never have another moment with her on this earth. That’s what hurts the most, knowing that the one person who loved me more than anyone else is gone.
I glance over at the alarm clock on Gran’s bedside table, and as if on cue, my stomach rumbles at the sight of it being almost two in the afternoon. I make my way into the kitchen and begin throwing ingredients into a pot to make myself some spaghetti. Just as the steam begins to waft through my tiny space, I notice Ace out front tinkering with his bike again.
The memories of how he took care of me last night flood my brain. He was so tender. I never pictured that from him at all. He took remarkably good care of me. He did the kinds of things Gran did for me when I was sick, and it was comforting having someone do that for me. It shows he cares, and makes me like him even more.
I owe him a huge thanks. Not many men would’ve done that.
The large package of pasta sitting on my counter causes an idea to spark, and before I can talk myself out of it, I march out the door toward Ace.
The noise from my door closing behind me draws Ace’s attention. His russet eyes travel slowly down the length of my body as I approach him. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the attraction I feel toward him is a mutual thing.
A wry smile dances across his lips. “You look much better today.”
I bite my lip and toy with a loose strand of my dark hair. “Yes. Thanks to you.”
“Me?” He raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t do much.”
I smile shyly as his gaze fixes on me. “I’d like to repay you. I want you to join me for a late lunch.”
“I don’t know—”
I hold my hands up, palm out to cut him off before he has the chance to refuse me. “Nothing fancy, I promise. I’m making spaghetti, and I always make enough for an army.”
I see the hesitation in his eyes, so I add, “Please.”
His eyes flick down to his grease-covered hands from working on his bike before he looks back up at me. “Okay, give me time to shower and I’ll be over.”
“Great!” I say a little too enthusiastically and immediately want to kick myself for being one of those overly excited girls. “It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”
I turn and practically skip back to my place, still enthralled by the fact that Ace is no longer being a major asshole to me. Last night was a total turning point for us for some reason. I’m not sure what I did or said from the time he came out to fix my lawn mower to when he helped me into the house last night, but I’m glad he’s warming up to me.
Once I’ve prepared the food, I busy myself with setting two places just like I used to do for me and Gran. The small metal table with a yellow flowered top appears to be straight from the sixties, and knowing Gran, she’d probably had it since then too. It’s so out-of-date, but I could never bear to get rid of it because this table is where we sat and had so many of our heart-to-heart talks.
A couple quick raps on the door cause butterflies to erupt in my stomach. The thought of being alone with Ace does something to my body physically.
I open the door, and there stands Ace, looking as mouthwatering as ever, freshly showered, in a clean T-shirt and jeans while his hair has been styled into a sexy mess on the top of his head. Just looking at that thick head of hair makes me want to tangle my fingers into it.
“Hi! Come in!”
Damn, Iris, tone it down, I mentally scold myself.
A crooked smile fixes on his face as he steps inside and then holds up a six-pack of beer with two of the bottles missing. “I think it’s customary to bring something. This was the best I could do.”
“It’s perfect.” I laugh as I take the cardboard container from him. I immediately hand him a beer and then pull one out for myself before putting the other two in the refrigerator.
Ace pops the cap off my beer and then his and tosses them in the nearby garbage can before he puts the bottle to his lips, taking a long pull from it. “This is really nice—a lot better than my place next door.”
I smile at his approval of my childhood home as I sip my beer. “Thanks. My gran didn’t have much, but she sure took pride in her home, making it look the best she could with what she could afford.”
Ace steps toward the couch to get a closer look at the family photos hanging on the wall above it. I stir the spaghetti to busy myself with something so I don’t just stand there staring at him. Never in all my life did I ever picture someone as hot as Ace Johnson would be standing in my living room.