Forbidden With Me - Leigh Lennon Page 0,25
for the night, I bid you adieu to get home. I’ll touch base with you in the morning, and before this weekend.” I nod and wait for some awkward hug, but he leans over to grab my forearm. Bending down, he kisses me on the forehead, then turns toward the door and is out of my space. I think I’ve forgotten to breathe.
When I turn around, Greenlyn’s mouth has formed an O, and her eyes bore in on me. “Okay, roomie, I have to know everything, and I mean everything, when it comes to your police angel.” My face burns from… I can’t think of the right word. It’s not embarrassment. It’s not anger. It’s want, need, and desire. Oh, yeah, it burns because as I’ve known as a little kid, Wells Shanahan is it for me.
“And by the way,” Greenlyn adds, stripping in front of me as she grabs her pajamas from her dresser drawer, “if you think you’re simply just another case to him, you’re fucking wrong.”
“So, what’s the story with you two?” Greenlyn digs in all of five minutes later. At least this time when I look at her, she’s not stark naked. She’s very comfortable in her body, and I envy her confidence.
“He was the first on the scene when my family was murdered. I think of him as my hero, that’s all.”
She crawls onto her loft bed across from mine, her pink pajamas as bright as her personality. “You don’t remember this, but when you sort of zoned out, and I called him, he was over here in a couple of shakes. And I hadn’t been able to get you to acknowledge me, but the second his voice fell on your ears, you came out of it. I left when I knew you’d be okay, but it’s the freakiest as fuck thing I’ve ever seen!”
I can’t get over how she took care of me when she didn’t have to. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” I demand, then shift the subject. “What happened to the hookup from yesterday? Will you see him again?”
“You mean Victor? Oh, fuck no. I saw him today, and he made mention of the two of us together—with him. It was a weak moment. The man at first looks hot as hell with his black hair. He’s big and bulky and sculpted by the gods. But when you talk to him, I can’t place it—the man gives me the heebie-jeebies. I’m actually happy you came back when you did. It was really quite stupid to hook up with a guy I barely knew.”
“So glad to have helped you,” I tease.
“Yeah, me, too.” She sits up on her knees like we’re chatting as if I’m a normal girl. “But don’t think you’re getting off that easy. I still want the goods on Detective Police Angel. So talk.”
There’s not much to share—except for today, which was beautiful, romantic, and frustrating all rolled up together. But I was with Wells, so for that reason, I simply smile and keep my mouth shut.
Chapter 9
Wells
I reach for the switch next to my door, flipping it up as the overhead lights turn on. My little home. It’s not much, a three-bedroom bungalow in South West Seattle in a neighborhood that’s been rebuilding itself for the past ten years. Drug dealers and prostitutes once lined the streets, but with a new initiative, parts of Seattle have been rebuilt and redistricted. Old buildings once abandoned now are filled with banks, churches, and small businesses. It’s been great to see this area begin to thrive again, and my little home is one of the many reasons I decided to be a part of the project.
It has been a long haul. I could see the bones of the house and got it for next to nothing, and in the Seattle market, this is saying something. Matt and I, along with pretty much every Montgomery, especially his brother Isaac, a contractor, spent countless hours helping me restore my home.
Bamboo floors lead into an open living space, a countertop island separating the living space with the kitchen with a large eat-in area on the entrance side of the house. With three bedrooms off the living room, and Jules’s magic touch so it wouldn’t look like an out-and-out bachelor’s pad, this is my minimalist rustic modern, as she coined my style, and it’s so much a part of me, almost as much as Malia is.
I fall back on my couch. What a day. What a