Ten Tiny Breaths

He lays three more light kisses on my jawline and then softly grazes my cheek with his knuckles. “Okay, Kacey.” He climbs off me and stands. I inhale sharply as his eyes draw in the length of my body with a hungry, dark look. It only lasts a second, but it unleashes a need deep in my lower belly. He turns around and heads to the door. “I’ll take the heat for the doors from Ta

“Doors?” Plural?

He still hasn’t turned around. “Yeah. Your front door and the bathroom door. If he’s going to boot someone out, I’ll make sure it’s me.”

And then he’s gone.

Dammit! That guy is the dictionary definition of a contradiction. He skates between nice guy and bad boy so fluidly, I never seem to catch the transition. It would be easier if he was a pigheaded player, but here he is, breaking down doors to save me from snakes. I, on the other hand, go from bitch to sexual attacker and back to bitch in three heart beats and he just flashes those damn dimples. I guess I’m not much better in terms of a contradiction.

When I finally emerge from my room fifteen minutes later, our apartment has been invaded. Livie’s in the kitchen, standing next to a sexy disheveled Storm with a crying five year old in her arms. Clearly my screams yanked Storm out of a dead sleep because she's wearing nothing but a tank and thong.

A police officer is interviewing a short balding man with the perpetrator coiled around his wrist. I shiver. Le

Ta

Trent stands quietly beside him, his hands in his back pockets as he looks down at the mess. His shirt is half undone where I tore the buttons, drenched and clinging to a sculpted chest. Even with present company, that sight makes my mouth dry up.

Storm’s the first to run to me after handing Mia off to Livie. She throws her arms around my neck. I still flinch, but not as bad as I did the first time she did it. “Are you okay?” If my leaving her in the car last night bothers her, I can’t tell.

Over her shoulder, I watch the officer and the little bald man’s eyes bug out, riveted to Storm’s ass. The officer, at least, has the decency to flush and avert his attention to a worn spot on the linoleum. The bald man, on the other hand, doesn’t; his grin widening. “I’ll be better after I go punch that guy in the nose,” I say loudly enough for him to hear me. He looks away, caught red-handed.

“That’s Pervie Pete,” she whispers, cringing as she stretches the back of her shirt down to cover her bare backside. It’s futile. The shirt’s too short and her thong is too revealing. “I’ll be right back.” She scurries out.

Ta

Kerry? My brow arches severely. “Hey … Larry! How’s it going?”

Livie tries to muffle her snort with her hand. At first Ta

The police officer patiently scratches down notes on a pad as we replay the entire incident while taking frequent breaks to stare at Storm now that she’s dressed. At the end, he gives Mia a sheriff badge sticker which makes her grin from ear to ear. Pervie Pete apologizes profusely and takes Le

When the officer leaves—not before giving Storm a long, appreciative smile—Ta

My jaw drops. What? I’m expecting a tirade and eviction notice and here Ta

Trent walks over to Livie and thrusts out a hand. “Hi, I’m Trent. We haven’t met formally.”

Whatever rage Livie had ru

Trent introduces himself to Storm next. She blushes sweetly and an unwarranted stab of jealousy pricks me. When he moves on to Mia hiding behind Storm’s legs, I catch Storm’s exaggerated wink of approval. I roll my eyes.

“And you must be Princess Mia? I’ve heard about you.”

Her lips pucker and she leans out just a bit further from Storm’s cover. “You have?”

He nods. “Well, I heard about a Princess Mia who likes ice cream. That must be you, right?”

She nods slowly and whispers, “Did you hear that, Mommy? People know I’m a princess!”

Everyone laughs. Everyone but me. I’m too busy fighting this internal battle inside that tells me I must resist this charm. It’s all an act. He’s no good for me.

Actually, that’s not it at all, I hate to admit.

The problem is that I know he’s too good for me.

Trent stands up to face me. “You going to be okay?”

Always so concerned about me. I nod, my arms folding over my chest as I look down at my robe, fidgeting awkwardly under that scrutinizing gaze of his, remembering the feel of his body pressed against mine. And that he pulled me from the shower, buck naked and cowering.

All kinds of humiliation roils through me now.

I’m not sure if my discomfort registers with Trent, but he takes a few steps back, his hand pushing back through his hair. “Well, I’ll see you guys around.” He winks at me. “Need to wash off all this soap. I hope my shower isn’t as eventful.”

“Yeah …” I mumble, feeling stupid, following his body move, quickly plotting how I can plant something in his shower so I have an excuse to bust down his door and jump in to save him. Not a snake. He doesn’t seem to be afraid of snakes. Maybe a gator. Yeah, there’re lots of those in Florida. Just a quick trip to the Everglades, I’ll find one, trap it, bring it back—

“Kacey?”

I snap back to the present with Storm’s voice, her brow arched as she looks at me, smirking. I’ve obviously missed a question. “What?”

“I’m sure Trent would love to have di

I don’t like it.

Trent doesn’t want this mess.

“Do whatever you want. I’ll be at the gym,” I answer and my tone is an arctic breeze, freezing any mirth in the room. I spin on my heels and stalk back into my room before anyone can get a word in edgewise.

And I hate myself.

***

The Breaking Point is quieter than usual for late-afternoon, but I’m okay with that. I’m still reeling from today’s snake excitement. And Trent. I need my nice, quiet routine. I quickly stretch and get ready to start my rounds on the bag.