The back door opened and Hillary walked out. Shit. Not who I wanted to see. She looked at me and her eyes narrowed. Then she came my way. I hadn’t seen Hillary since I’d gotten out of her bed after a one-nighter. She’d been drinking. I’d been drinking. And she had a really damn good body.
My window was already rolled down when she reached it.
“Leave her alone, Falco. She’s a good girl. A sweet girl. And you”—she pointed at me—“ain’t something that girl can deal with. She doesn’t understand guys like you. I’ve watched her, and every man who walks into that place hits on her, and she ain’t got a clue. Even Gretchen’s clients can’t keep their eyes off her. She’s sweet. Too sweet. So crank this truck and get the hell out of here.”
Not what I had been expecting. She wasn’t out here to yell at me for running out on her after sex. She was warning me off Sienna. Interesting.
“She’s the mother of my nephew, so I can’t stay away from her. She’s family.”
Hillary’s eyes went wide. Apparently, Sienna hadn’t told them Micah was a Falco. Which was something that bothered me—I didn’t like Dustin’s boy not having his last name.
“Well, shit,” she muttered. “I didn’t know the kid was Dustin’s.”
I just nodded. The back door opened again, catching my attention, and Sienna stepped out. Her eyes immediately found my truck, and they shifted to Hillary at my door. Then she jerked her attention away from us and hurried across the parking lot to her beat-to-shit car.
“Move,” I told Hillary before I swung my door open and headed after Sienna.
“Sienna, wait,” I called out. She paused with her hand on the door handle. “I came here to see you,” I explained, as if I had been doing something wrong. Jesus, I’d only kissed her. If I was here seeing Hillary, it was would be perfectly fine. But for some reason it felt like I had been caught cheating.
She glanced back over her shoulder. “Why?”
“Because we need to talk. And not at your house,” I said, and motioned to my truck. “Come for a ride with me.”
She seemed unsure until her eyes followed Hillary, who was headed inside. When Sienna looked back at me, she let out a weary sigh but walked toward me. “Okay,” she said, and we walked side by side back to my truck.
I opened the passenger-side door and held out my hand to help her up, but she ignored it and climbed up on her own. Which made her sweet ass stick up in a very appealing way in those leggings she was wearing.
I closed the door, the image of her in those tight pants taunting me as I made my way over to my side of the truck. I climbed in and looked over at her. She was wearing sleeves that stopped just below her elbow. Still covering her bruise. Fuck me. “How’s your arm?” I asked her.
“It’s fading and it doesn’t hurt anymore,” she said with a smile that didn’t meet her eyes.
“I’m a fuckup, Sienna. The bruise on your arm proves that. I shouldn’t get to breathe the same air you do.” I stopped myself before I said anything more. I wasn’t ever going to get over that bruise. It was going to haunt me long after it faded away. “And I’m sorry. About the kiss. It was uncalled for, and I shouldn’t have.”
She tensed up beside me, but only for a moment. Then she relaxed her shoulders and crossed her legs, and damned if that wasn’t fascinating. “Probably not a good idea. You’re right.”
So she agreed. We shouldn’t have kissed. “I don’t want things to get awkward with us.”
She nodded. “Me neither.”
“So, we can just be friends. Or family. We’re family.”
She nodded again.
She didn’t feel like family. I watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and I wanted to reach out and see if it was as silky as it looked. I’d missed that opportunity when I’d been eating her alive. My hands had gone from her face to her ass. I should have felt her hair.
“I know I’m, uh . . . not very experienced. I don’t . . . I mean, Dustin was the only one I, uh . . . I did anything with. So I was curious. I haven’t been kissed in a long time.” She shut her mouth and closed her eyes tightly. She was trying to explain her reaction to me, but the fact that no one had touched her in six years was a little more information than I could handle.
How was she so untouched? I knew she’d said she didn’t date, but, hell, how’d she get release? After having sex before, she’d want it, right? Need it?
“Not even any one-night stands or friends with benefits?” I asked.