When I said that thing about taking her off the property, I was just pointing out the big fat hole in Dorcas’s reasoning.
Exhibit A: Gabriel e Diego is jailbait anywhere, not just “on this property.” (Side effect of having a crack attorney for my paternal role model: if you’re going to argue a point with me, don’t leave gaps in your logic.)
I’m so pissed my hands are shaking. Usual y this type of response fol ows a chat with my dad, after which I retreat to the basement to pound the shit out of a hundred pound heavy bag. We’ve got an entire gym setup down there; my trainer meets me several times a week when I’m not on location. Or performing compulsory community service.
The back yard is thickly populated, and of course this is where Gabriel e was banished. Judging by the look on her face, she assumes I fol owed her outside. When she glances at me with a provocative smile, a boredom-exterminating scheme pops into my head. One that wil drive Dorcas batshit crazy for the next three weeks.
Community service just got considerably more interesting.
*** *** ***
Dori
I’l give him ten minutes to throw his temper tantrum before I bring him back inside. He needs to understand that messing around with Gabriel e is unacceptable. I would march outside and say it just like that, but he’s evidently taking anything I say as a dare, which is the last thing I want.
Final y, I settle on apologizing to him for the better person comment—I stil can’t believe I said that—and discussing my anxiety concerning Gabriel e with Roberta, privately. Hopeful y she can keep an eye on the situation.
Without me involved, he won’t feel goaded to do something everyone would regret.
The back yard is teeming with volunteers because we got a shipment of trees and shrubs yesterday, which should be transplanted from containers to ground promptly. It doesn’t take long to locate Reid, because every woman in the yard and most of the men are watching him. Much as I’d like to, I can’t blame them. The sight of him is simply compel ing.
While digging a hole for one of the three 30-gal on live oaks that wil line the back fence and provide shade for the yard, he’s stripped off his t-shirt. Hard lines of definition ripple across his back and shoulders as he as he plunges the shovel into the ground, heaving mounds of earth out and piling it to the side. His jeans ride low on his hips, showing off his enviable movie-star abs. Muscles flexing and contracting, it’s clear that what he’s doing is strenuous, yet he doesn’t slow or tire when other volunteers take wheezing breaks for water.
Looks like I’l be finishing the cabinets myself.
Before I turn to go back inside, I spot Gabriel e standing a few feet from Reid. After tossing one contemptuous look my way, she flips her glossy black hair over her shoulder and turns back to watch him. Though she’s only two years younger than me, it feels like a lifetime of difference.
Testing her sexuality, she thinks she’s caught a beautiful fish, when in reality, she’s netted a shark. As soon as she gets too close, he could snap through the fragile filaments and consume her.
I want to trust Reid not to be what I fear he is, but I know better. There’s not a trustworthy bone in that impeccably muscled body.
Chapter 10
REID
I haven’t seen Dori since I left her standing in the bathroom with her mouth hanging open. I wanted some privacy to get my shit together after that exchange, but with a yard ful of people, solitude wasn’t an option. So, I did the next best thing—I grabbed a shovel and dug a big f**king hole.
By lunch break, we’ve planted three trees and half the shrubs. Dori materializes outside, talking with some tool I haven’t seen before today. They load their paper plates and she takes the lawn chair next to him, eating her burger while he talks. He seems unfamiliar with a basic principle of conversation: reciprocal speaking. Despite this, she seems engrossed in his monologue. Either that or she’s too polite to be real with people other than myself.
Gabriel e is literal y sitting at my feet in the stil -patchy new sod. I don’t have to do anything to keep her enthral ed outside of an occasional smile. She’s jabbering about her modeling and acting aspirations, her loathing of school and her immature classmates, and what kind of car her older ex-boyfriend drove. (A Mustang? Please.) I think this last is an attempt to il ustrate her experience with boys. And/or an attempt to il ustrate her experience with boys. And/or fast cars.
“The car you had was a Porsche, right?” She flutters her lashes as though this isn’t a peculiar subject for her to bring up, or for us to discuss.
“Um, yeah. Had being the operative word.” Her eyes widen. “I guess you’re pretty pissed it got wrecked, huh?” As though my car wrecked itself.
“You could say that.”
She lays her hand on my knee. “Aw, I’m real y sorry, Reid.”
I can’t help but chuckle. This is the most awkward exchange ever. “You’re sorry… that I drove my Porsche into your house?”
“It’s not like you did it on purpose.”
I laugh out loud and smile down at her, “Wel , that’s true. I wish you’d been the judge in my case.” She beams up at me.
I hazard a glance at Dori, who’s staring daggers into me.
I swear if we were within striking distance and she had a plastic fork in her hand, I’d be concerned. Instead of returning her heated expression, I keep the grin affixed to my face and add a sardonic air to it—one eyebrow arched, indifferent eyes. This look has been refined to perfection over many years with Dad. Sends him through the goddamned roof. Does it work on Dorcas?