Yep, that was the gist of my night and part of my morning, but based on the sun glinting through the thick drapes covering the short windows, the day was well underway. A glance at my cell phone told me it was a little after nine.
“My wedding day.” I snorted a laugh as I crawled out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
Me. Twenty-two-years-old. Getting married.
I was waiting for someone to jump out and shout, “Gotcha!”
It is what it is.
I went pee, then opted for a shower to wash off the stench of last night. I’d grabbed some travel-size items my mother kept on hand before I left her house, so I had what I needed without having to find Rule. When I was finished, I felt better. I took the time to dry my hair but didn’t bother with makeup. I’d only brought the bare minimum with me, and until I knew exactly what the plan was for today, I saw no reason to waste it. I pulled on loose-fitting capris and my vintage Queen T-shirt, tucking the front into the waistband before opening the door.
The sound of emptiness greeted me, but it was quickly filled with the rumble of my stomach. I definitely needed breakfast.
Part of me had expected Waldo to greet me the same way he had last night, but either he hadn’t heard me yet, or he wasn’t there. I didn’t really get the take-my-dog-for-a-ride-in-the-car vibe from Rule—his car was much too clean—but stranger things had happened.
I didn’t announce my presence as I went in search of sustenance. I made it as far as the kitchen without hearing a sound, but the second I stepped past the wall that separated the kitchen from the rest of the space, I realized I wasn’t alone.
“Oh, shit,” I said, coming to a stop. “I didn’t realize…”
WhatI didn’t realize was anyone’s guess because my words died on my tongue as I stared at the bald man standing at the kitchen island.
I should clarify that. The bald, musculargodstanding at the kitchen island.
Lord, help me.
He was shirtless, although, at first glance, it appeared he was covered. But it wasn’t clothing that concealed his skin. It was ink. He was tattooed from his neck to his fingers on both arms, over the solid expanse of his chest, and down his sides. The tattoos had been artfully designed as though they were showcasing his finely chiseled abdomen, and boy, what a stomach. Can you say washboard? All rippled muscle and…
Okay, I was ogling. I had to stop.
I forced my attention back to his face, back to those sinful eyes. I wasn’t sure it was appropriate to say the man was beautiful, but it was the only word that came to mind. Beautiful in a very sexy, bad-boy way. He was bald as a cue ball, but if he’d had hair, it would’ve been blond since his perfectly arched eyebrows and the short stubble on his jaw, chin, and upper lip were the lightest shade of brown. His face was oval, and an artist could’ve sculpted his nose. But again, his eyes were what captivated me most. The lightest of blue irises stood out like beacons in his tanned face.
“I … um…” I took a hesitant step forward. “I’m Laikyn. Rule’s … uh … friend?”
I didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but I wasn’t sure how to explain my relationship with a man I’d only met a few hours ago when he came to clean up dead bodies for my mother and insisted I marry him or deal with the cops.
The bald man nodded.
“And you are?”
His eyes lingered on me for a moment before cutting to the counter. He picked up his phone, typed something, then turned it so I could see. I moved closer, taking the phone from him to read it.
“Jinx? That’s your name?”
He lifted his arm, his hand formed into a fist.
I grinned when I realized what he wanted. I fist-bumped him back, then set his phone down.
“Did your parents know Rule’s? I mean, were they playing a game when they came up with your names?”
He shook his head and grinned.
I gestured toward the phone. “And the phone thing…? Is it a new trend millennials are trying for?”
His smile … heaven help me, his smile was hot enough to smoke meat.
He shook his head.
“Do you speak?”
