Chapter Four
God dammit, I’m in hell.
Not only had I been subjected to a rehearsal dinner and had to make a speech, but I’d also had to walk down the aisle with Worthington next to me. Jeremiah owed me big time for the next fifty years for all of this, but mostly for putting me in the cottage with a god damn puppy for a roommate.
Worthington had been cute as fuck when he was drunk, although that encounter on the back porch wasn’t the first time I’d seen him. I’d known he was out there when I dropped my bags off, but I’d given him his space. When I’d come back from dinner, I’d been intrigued. Meg hadn’t said much, but she hinted that he’d just gotten out of a bad marriage and needed time to recuperate.
I’d stood in the doorway and stared at the man for way longer than was appropriate, but I couldn’t seem to look away. His hair was dark blond and longer on the top but looked freshly cut at the neck. I knew when he stood up that hair would flop into his eyes. With time in the sun, it would get lighter and shine. I liked that coloring. I found myself hoping he had green eyes like Megan. Then my thoughts caught up to me, and I gave myself a mental slap. What the fuck was I doing staring at this cute man? I had no business being anywhere near someone as innocent as him.
Then he’d woken up, and he was even cuter than I thought. Stumbling and laughing out loud, he had the kind of joy I’d never had in my life. I’d never laughed so freely, so I was fascinated by that freedom. I knew he was drunk, but even so, I’d bet he was like that all the time.
When I had helped him to bed, I couldn’t get over the feeling that he needed someone to take care of him. Even after I’d left him to sleep and then over the next few days going through the motions of being the perfect best man, I kept having the echo of a feeling I’d only had one other time. It felt the same as when I’d rescued Snow from that parking lot. She had needed someone to take care of her, stroke her fur, and make sure she was safe. I’d been thinking about getting a dog, and Worthington reminded me of the cutest puppy. He was like a sweet beagle, all flopping ears and sincere eyes.
I started having a bizarre argument with myself over the possibility of adopting him. I kept thinking you can’t just kidnap a person and adopt them like a dog. Could you?
But, when have we ever done anything like other people? He doesn’t have a home, nowhere to go. He’ll be alone for three weeks when the newlyweds go on their honeymoon.
I shook my head to get those thoughts out. It had been decades since that voice had piped up so insistently. It was always there when I worked, but never so loud. The last time it had happened was when I was fifteen.
Jeremiah’s mother had been our head housekeeper and the closest thing to a mother I could remember. My dad had been a titan of finance and a wickedly mean drunk. I remember Marta tucking me in at night, bandaging my knee when I fell off my bike, or holding me when I cried after my father beat me for the thousandth time just for being alive and in the way.
That voice in my head had gotten louder over the years until my fifteenth birthday. That day it went silent. Oddly enough, that was the day my father got so drunk he fell down the main staircase of our house and cut his throat on a piece of the crystal glass he’d been holding. All his assets were in a trust for me, and I got to choose my guardian. I chose Marta. She moved Jeremiah into the house with us, and we became a family. She never told anyone I was the one who slit his throat before I pushed him down those stairs. In the next few years, I never had to hide bruises anymore, and Jeremiah got into USC with enough money to pay his tuition for a business degree. We all won, so the truth wouldn’t have done anyone any good.
But now that voice was telling me it was okay to take a person home, just like a pet. It was tempting, but I couldn’t do that, especially not Megan’s big brother. I really wanted to though. All of this was rolling around in my head at the wedding reception, watching the few people brave enough to dance. I was not one of those people. I was holding up the wall of the tasting room they had transformed into a fairyland. Objectively, it was pretty if you like fairy lights and pink butterflies.
“Are you going to dance?” Worthington’s voice, coming from my side, startled me. I hadn’t heard or sensed him at all. I was slipping out here in suburbia, so I was a little gruffer than I needed to be.
“No, I don’t dance. Ever.” I frowned down at him, so he would go away. He needed to get away from me.
He didn’t go away. He smiled those perfectly pouting lips at me, and I wanted to kiss that smile and see what it tasted like.Fuck.
“I just think you haven’t found your song yet. I always likedBaby Got Back.” His smile slipped into a frown for a second, while he was lost in thought, but his gaze cut to me and he slipped it back on like a mask. Interesting. “But I need to find a new one. I don’t like to think about anything having to do with the word back.”
He poked me in the chest, actually touched me, and then asked, “What’s your favorite song?”
I brought my eyebrows together to show my confusion at the question and folded my arms over my chest. He had to be reading my body language, Right?
Wrong.
“I mean your karaoke song. What’s the song you rock out to and always kill?”
I had the urge to smirk at the thought of killing a song, but I kept my scowl on my face and didn’t answer.
“Wow, you don’t have one, do you? I’m thinking you’re aDust in the Windkind of guy. What do you think? No? Okay, hmmm.” He kept looking at me, then snapped his fingers. “I know, I’ve got it.Werewolves of London! You look like you could rock that one.”
I just stared at him unmoving, because that seriously was my favorite song of all time. There was no way he could have known that, so it shocked the hell out of me. He was too cute in his new suit and his pink bow tie. I couldn’t hold back my attraction one more second.
“You want to get out of here, go back to the cottage and fuck?”
Worthington took a step back from me, and this time, he crossed his arms over his chest and frowned.
“I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“You know exactly what I said. Now the question is, do you?”
He looked conflicted for a full minute. I could see him debating the possibilities, then come to a conclusion.
“Umm, thanks for the offer, but I don’t think so. I’m not ready and I don’t even know you. Can I get your number, and we can go out sometime?”
