Riveted. Jay Crownover

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       Dixie

      I’d been working bar hours long enough that it took some major commotion and ruckus to pull me out of bed before lunchtime. Even Dolly had adapted to middle-of-the-night walks and breakfast at noon since I was a worthless and cranky blob of indignation if I was forced to abandon my comfy bed while the morning sun was still in the sky. It was the one and only time I let myself be grouchy and hate everything, which meant anyone that knew me well gave me a wide berth in the mornings. My days and nights had been flipped for as long as I could remember, so when loud voices pulled me from a sound sleep the next morning well before noon, and well before the time that most people got up to start their day, I was livid. I hadn’t slept very good the night before, so it felt like I had just shut my eyes even though several hours had passed, but that didn’t mean I was in any kind of mood to be startled awake or to play referee.

      I heard Wheeler’s sharp tone as I crawled out of bed almost pushing Dolly to the floor in the process. I was stunned when it was another deep, obviously angry male voice that replied and not my sister’s. I figured Kallie would show up with her tail between her legs any minute now begging Wheeler to take her back. That’s what she’d done the last time he caught her stepping out on him with another guy. She wasted no time in trying to force him to forgive and forget.

      She knew exactly where her bread was buttered and there was no way she was going to let the guy that had taken care of her, coddled her, given her everything she’d ever asked for get away from her. There was also no way in hell my vain, spoiled little sister had the backbone and fortitude to weather the embarrassment of canceling her long-anticipated wedding this close to the date. If word got out exactly why Wheeler had pulled the plug on their dysfunctional relationship, Kallie would wither away from embarrassment. She might want to have her cake and eat it too, but if someone pointed out how gluttonous it made her seem she would fall apart. The girl couldn’t take criticism to save her life, which was why she had kept hold of Wheeler for so long. He loved her and everything about her … at least he had until she’d drop-kicked his heart.

      I recognized the rough, growly voice with its southern drawl right away. I couldn’t figure out why Church was at my apartment this early, and I couldn’t figure out why he and Wheeler were barking at one another like two dogs staking their claim over territory in my living room. I thought that maybe I was still dreaming until I stubbed my toe on the back of the couch as I rushed into the front of my apartment to see what in the hell was going on.

      I swore loudly and hopped around on one foot, which drew both of the snarling men’s attention to me. Dolly, curious about the early morning visitor, gave me a sympathetic look then happily trotted over to Church, who was standing with his arms crossed over his massive chest while he glared at me out of those amazing eyes of his. People would call them hazel for lack of a better term but hazel didn’t cut it. Hazel was too ordinary a word for a color that was so brilliantly extraordinary. Those eyes of his were something else, pretty much all of him was designed to make vaginas surrender without putting up any kind of fight. There were men that were pretty like Asa, and there were men that stole breath with their masculine beauty like Rome Archer. Then there were men who had the best of both those worlds like Dash Churchill.

      “What are you doing here before Starbucks is even open, Church?” I rubbed at my sleepy eyes and stiffened when his gaze drifted down from my messy hair, which I was sure looked like I stuck my finger in a light socket, to the oversized T-shirt I was wearing that had a giant cartoon taco on the front wearing a scowl with the words “I don’t wanna taco about it” scrawled underneath. Obviously it wasn’t something I would have ever worn to bed if I’d known he was going to be my six-foot-four, testosterone-fueled alarm clock, but there wasn’t anything that could be done about my ridiculous sleepwear or my out-of-control hair now. There was also nothing that could be done about the fact I wasn’t wearing pants and even though my taco shirt was big it was still just a T-shirt and barely, and I do mean barely, covered up all the things it needed to in order for me to keep my modesty.

      I cleared my throat as that mesmerizing gaze drifted down the length of my legs and back up to my heated face. I took a careful step behind the couch and crossed my arms over my chest to mimic his badass pose. Mine was more to hide the fact I didn’t have a bra on and to cover up that even though he was pissed and clearly annoyed his mere presence still had all my lady parts shaking off sleep and waking up bright and early.

      “I need to talk to you. I wasn’t expecting you to have company.” The way he said it wasn’t very nice.

      I stiffened and shifted my gaze to Wheeler, who was standing at the doorway not letting Church and his palpable anger all the way into my apartment. Dolly was sitting between the two men watching them like they were opponents in a tennis match. She was probably waiting to see who would give her attention first but the visual still made my lips twitch as the dog’s head swiveled back and forth.

      “Wheeler, go ahead and let him in. If I’m going to be up this early I need coffee and I don’t want either of you or your male posturing to scare Poppy.” I shuffled from behind the couch and into my tiny kitchen as my no-longer-future brother-in-law stepped to the side. It was only when Wheeler was fully clear from the door that I realized all he had on was a pair of low-slung jeans. His heavily tattooed torso was on full display and his mahogany hair was mussed and messy from a night of aggravated hands pulling at it. If I was on the other side of the door and couldn’t see the tangled mess of Wheeler’s haphazard bed still on the couch, I would probably be jumping to the same conclusion that Church obviously was.

      I wanted to rush to reassure him that it wasn’t what he was thinking, that Wheeler was family, but the big, broody man stomping through my living room had me eyeing him warily as Wheeler snorted and muttered, “Come on in, Church.”

      Church’s СКАЧАТЬ