Grayson Cody didn’t move, didn’t even twitch but his eyes were burning laser sharp into Lash.
So Lash kept going.
“I know you know him and think he’s a piece of shit. What I heard, he is. But Casey saved his sister from a fate one step down from death and he did it when she was at an age where that kinda shit, shit that could fuck up a grown woman for life who was strong could seriously fuck up a sweet, innocent twelve year old girl so she’d never be the Ivey you know and I know. He kept her alive, he kept her safe and he made it so he could give Ivey to you, me and Freddie. He fucked up along the way but I think you get why she stayed tied to him, loyal and felt she owed him. I don’t know this new shit that’s come out and what she’s told me of him, I can believe he’d be involved. What you need to know is, there is one person on this earth who could tear her from you and that was him. He came to her, fucked up, face mangled, scared outta his brain. Or tellin’ her that shit. She loved him, she owed him, she went with him but you gotta get she went thinkin’ she was comin’ back. He also convinced her you were in danger and not just you, the entire town of Mustang. So, just like yesterday, she acted fast and not thinkin’ to keep you safe. And, while I’m sharin’, she thought you replaced her, you tore her shit right up, shredded, my man, tatters. She believes this entire town thinks she’s trash. And still, she got word this town was rocking and it took her five minutes to decide to lay out her savings to steady that boat.”
Lash watched Cody close his eyes and drop his head.
To that, Lash called out, “I’m not done.”
He watched Cody’s muscled back bow as he drew in a deep breath then Cody tipped his head back to look at Lash.
“There’s been no one since you,” Lash whispered and he saw it, felt it. Cody’s body went statue-still but the air around him started undulating with the depth of emotion coming off him. “She danced for me but only for me. She was a waitress when I found her. She never dated. Never had a boyfriend. Nothing. Not even another kiss. You were her one and only, Cody, and you still are.”
“Move your fuckin’ car,” he growled instantly.
“What?” Lash asked, Cody’s beer bottle landed with a thud on the porch by his boot and he surged to his feet sending the porch swing flying.
“I said, move your fuckin’ car.”
Then he walked forward, dropped down off the porch and walked right by Lash to his truck. He opened the door and it creaked loud.
Lash turned to him, saw Cody pause, change direction and stalk back to Lash.
“Keycard,” he demanded, hand up, palm up.
Lash’s lips twitched and he dug out his wallet.
“You get another room tonight, man,” Cody went on.
“Right,” Lash muttered, pulling out his keycard and handing it to Cody who tagged it swiftly, turned and stalked back to his truck. “Better move the car, Freddie,” Lash called but Freddie was on it, smiling a huge-ass, motherfucking, white smile.
Freddie got in and barely got the car out of the way before the truck reversed then swung around and sped down the lane.
Lash sauntered to the Lincoln and folded in the passenger seat.
After he got his door closed and seatbelt on, Freddie took the lane a lot more slowly.
“I think that went well,” Lash muttered.
“Fuck yeah,” Freddie muttered back.
There was silence.
Then from Freddie, a quiet, “Dude, you’re gay?”
Lash sighed.
Then braced.
Then affirmed, “Yeah.”
“I so have a cousin I need to introduce to you. You are totally his type,” Freddie replied. Lash’s eyes cut to him, Freddie glanced at Lash then back at the windshield then again he smiled a huge-ass, motherfucking, white smile.
Lash looked to the lane and stopped bracing about half a second before he started grinning.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Say It
The door opened and, lounging across the bed in my black satin nightie with spaghetti straps that criss-crossed over a mostly exposed back, a hem that hit me right at the bottom of my ass, slits up the sides to my waist and a pair of little, black panties (all that Lash bought me, he didn’t only have an eye for good eveningwear, costumes and interior décor, he was hell on wheels in the lingerie department), I didn’t tear my eyes away from the movie I’d rented from the hotel selection as I called out my greeting to the returning Lash.
He’d gone places unknown, explaining he had “shit to do”. I didn’t question this. Lash owned a successful club, he often had “shit to do”. So much of it, he couldn’t escape it and I knew some of it would eventually leak into our getaway.