“Why?” His thick brows furrowed.
“You’re doing all this.”
He used a hand to urge me along again toward the passenger side. “No, you’re… interesting. I want to get to know you.”
“So, this is all about you and what you want?”Sex. Yeah, that’s fine.I’d spent long enough this afternoon beating my meat raw. Maybe I’d be good with that. I’d like to find out what he’d do without his clothes on. My dick twitched in spite of the cold.
“No? I mean”—he chuckled nervously—“am I doing something wrong, here?”
“No.”
He scowled, and I couldn’t help but notice how his biceps flexed under his suit jacket. Talk about mesmerizing. After a second, he smiled as he opened my door for me. “Get in.”
I didn’t argue, just did as he said.
He went around to the driver’s side and that gave me time to worry about being alone with him, but he was smiling again as he got in and then started the car with a smooth purr from the engine. “So, to Walnut Creek?”
“There’s a choice?”
“There’s the catholic hospital on the south side.”
“Nah. Nuns are creepy. I’m good with the closest one.”
He snorted out a laugh and backed out of his spot. Someone zipped past behind us too close and he cursed as he jammed on the brake, and then his gaze caught with mine and he took a deep breath. Without meaning to, I’d pressed myself against the door.
“I won’t yell.”
“Okay.”
“Come on,” he said and reached over to dance his fingertips over my knee. “Sit back. Buckle your seatbelt.”
I nodded and did as asked, and he had such a look of relief on his face I had to wonder what that was about. I was working myself up to asking him when my phone began to ring. Only one person ever really called. Dread battered me as I pulled the phone out of my pocket. The number wasn’t familiar, so I stared as it rang. Casey fiddled with some buttons on his steering wheel and warm air began to blast through the cab. The seat under my butt warmed. I yelped and stared down at the leather as he grinned.
“Who is it?”
“Not sure,” I murmured.
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
“Eh, probably just a scam call.”
He finished backing out and the phone quit ringing, only to begin again. He started us forward, and I was glad I didn’t have a license. The road was slushy and the tires weren’t acting the way they should—slipping and sliding around. “This late at night? No, better answer.”
I sighed because he was splitting his attention between me and the crappy road. To get him to stop giving me theI Know Bestsquint, I answered. “Hello?”
“Mr. Gaffin?” came a male voice from the other side of the line. The sounds that I knew well of a man shouting were in the background. Dad cursed loud and long about something and I distinctly heard “motherfucking cops.” The bottom dropped out of my belly, and I tried to grasp the dash, but my bad hand ached as I clenched it. I shook the pain out, and Casey said something I didn’t hear.
“Uh… yeah?”
“Are you the son of Peter Gaffin?” the man asked.
“Why?” I had a feeling I already knew damned wellwhy, but I didn’t want to hear it.
“We have him here. Shit, cuff him!” The sound of a scuffle in the background had me groaning.
“You okay?” Casey asked, and I nodded. He lifted one eyebrow skeptically and quickly turned his attention back to the road. Thankfully he didn’t ask any more questions as he pulled the car out into the stream of traffic.
“Where’s here?”
