Skin Tight (Skin Deep #4) Read online

  Chapter 6

  After wrapping up my evening with the girls, I grabbed the food I’d ordered for Ian and made the drive home, rocking out with the windows down and the music up loud. And when Uptown Funk came on, I turned it up even louder and sang along at the top of my lungs because, let’s face it. You can’t help but dance and sing to that song. Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars know what they’re doing, for sure.

  I pulled into the driveway and parked beside Ian’s truck, not bothering to pull into the garage. I gathered all my stuff and Ian’s food up and walked inside, hollering, “Honey, I’m home!”

  Receiving no response, I laid his food on the counter and dropped everything else beside it, moving through the house looking for him. He was nowhere to be found inside the house, so I checked out on the back porch. I saw him there, sitting in the chair, staring off into the distance.

  “Hey,” I said softly as I walked out to him, stopping at his side.

  He was leaned back, the neck of a bottle of beer dangling from his fingers.

  “Hey,” he said back, not moving, not looking at me.

  I sat in the chair beside him, concern washing over me. “Is everything okay?”

  He nodded once, and then quickly shook his head. “Just a rough day today, I guess. I had to fire a man for being so careless that one of my other workers ended up in the hospital today.”

  “Oh my God,” I breathed, reaching out and taking his free hand in mine. “What happened?”

  “Carl happened. Fucker went to Griff’s for lunch, which is no big deal, but he decided to have a few beers and a shot while he was at it. That is a real big deal. Came back, got into the bobcat, and then didn’t pay attention when he swung it around the corner. Ran it right into the side of an S-10 truck that was just pulling in. The guy driving, when the bucket hit the truck, thank God, was wearing his seatbelt, but he hit his head against the window. Knocked him out.”

  I sank back in my seat, my hand automatically coming up to cover my mouth. “Is he okay?”

  Ian nodded. “Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’s off for a couple weeks with a concussion, unless there’re complications with him. Carl got a little whiplash from hitting the truck, but he was fired on the spot. I mean, drinking on the fucking job! Goddamn, that pisses me off! He could have killed someone!”

  Ian was yelling, his voice getting hoarse with emotion. I let him vent, still holding his hand in mine, my thumb drawing soothing circles against the back of his. Finally, he took a deep breath and then finished off the rest of his beer.

  “You know, it could have been a lot worse. But what gets me, what pisses me off the most, is that Carl is a damn good worker. But he’s a fucking alcoholic. How did I not know that? How did I not catch that when he’s been with me for over a year now?”

  His face was tortured, his breathing ragged.

  I moved from my chair and draped myself over his lap, wrapping my arms around him and holding him tightly to me. He dropped his bottle and his arms came up and squeezed me.

  “Baby, it’s not your fault. He’s your employee, you’re not his father. Have you ever caught him drinking on the job before?”

  He shook his head. “No, but I’m at different sites all the time, so I’m not always there.”

  “What about the foreman for that job? Has he noticed anything, since he’s there all the time?” I asked him. He shook his head again and I continued, “Then how would you have known he was an alcoholic? Sometimes people with addictions are pretty adept at hiding it, until they get to that point that they just can’t anymore. It sucks that that’s where he’s at, apparently, and it really sucks that it caused someone else to get hurt.”

  Ian nodded against me and then heaved a sigh, his warm breath washing over my skin. “I know. I just can’t help but feel like it’s my fault, like I should have been paying more attention.”

  I kissed his forehead and his cheek, remaining silent for the moment. After a bit, he released me and I stood, reaching for his hand again. “Come on and eat, and then we’ll veg out for a while, okay?”

  “Okay,” he replied. He stood and pulled me into his chest, one of his hands coming up to cradle my jaw and tip my head back so he could see my eyes. “I love you,” he said, softly.

  I could feel just about every inch of my body softening against him, and my lips curled into a smile as I pushed up on my toes, pressing my lips against his and whispering, “I love you, too,” before I kissed him.

  Afterwards, Ian and I cuddled up on the couch while he ate and watched reruns of The Big Bang Theory, pausing the TV only once when Ian’s phone rang. I listened with half an ear as he spoke to someone about the events of the day, but as soon as he was done, he un-paused the TV and went back to watching without a word. I didn’t push him to talk, and he didn’t offer anything more.

  But we didn’t need to talk. It was enough just to be together, to draw strength from each other when needed without the words needing to be said. It worked for us…and it was perfect.

  We were lying in bed a couple hours later, cuddled up as usual, when Ian broke the silence of the darkened room.

  “So, what was this whole get together about tonight, anyway?” he asked.

  I laughed softly, asking in return, “Why did it have to be about something? We always like to get together for girl’s nights anyway, you know.”

  “Yeah, but I know when you guys are up to something. So what do I have to look forward to, now?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about, I promise!” I said, humor lacing the words.

  “Uh-huh. Famous last words…” Ian mumbled good-naturedly.

  I leaned back and propped my head on my hand, my elbow digging into the mattress. “Nope, seriously. It’s a good thing,” I said, drawing the words out with a breathy tone.

  “I’m listening,” he replied, and I could tell he was completely intrigued now.

  I laughed and rolled into him again, my lips finding his in the darkness and giving him a quick kiss. “We’re having a Down & Dirty party in a couple weeks. You know, just another excuse to get together and drink and have a good time. And maybe buy some new sex toys while we’re at it…” I let my words trail off suggestively as I trailed a finger down his chest.

  He stopped my hand with his, pressing it fully against his chest as he said, quickly, “I’m down with that. Sure…when’s the party?”

  I shook my head and chuckled as I kissed him once more, then settled back down in the bed, my head on his shoulder, my arm lying across his stomach, my leg thrown over his thigh.

  I yawned as I answered, “I already told you in a couple of weeks. Geez, pay attention.”

  He just chuckled and gave me a squeeze, kissing my forehead. “Night, baby. Love you.”

  “Mmm,” I murmured, snuggling in closer. “G’night. Love you, too.”

  We were quiet again for just a moment before I cleared my throat and asked him, softly, “Are you okay?”

  I heard him take a deep breath, then he kissed my forehead once more, pulling me even closer to his body and replied, “With you in my arms, in my life, I’m more than okay.”

  I smiled against his chest and drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  The next few days were pretty uneventful. Ian was busy dealing with the insurance people and all that shit that goes along with what happened. He’d even spoken to Emma’s old boss, Floyd Grim, to get his professional opinion on everything, just to cover his bases.

  Ian had gone to his office this afternoon to meet with him, and Floyd had agreed to help him out with the legal side of things if he needed it, which was nice of him. He’d then asked Ian to see if Emma would like to come back to work for him since his current secretary didn’t hardly know her ass from a hole in the ground. His words apparently, not Ian’s.

  Ian called Emma when he got home and relayed the message, which prompted Emma to call Floyd and thank him for the offer, but, between Skin Deep and Everly, she had her hands full, so she’d declined
regretfully. He had asked her to call Mrs. Allen and check on her every once and a while, though, seeing as how the old woman still called every week and now instead of only bitching about Doc (the vet) and Fluffers (her mangy, overweight, freak of a cat), she spent most of the time bemoaning the fact that her Emma wasn’t there to talk to her.

  I knew this because Emma had just called me and was filling me in.

  “I feel bad for him,” Emma was saying about Floyd. “He’s a really good attorney and a lot of people applied for my job, but I guess he was doing a friend a favor and letting this girl work for him but she keeps losing files because she can’t remember how she filed them in the cabinets. Yikes.”

  “Wait a sec, what happened to the woman that had stepped in to cover when you left?” I asked.

  Emma sighed. “She was just filling in, but apparently she retired, so…this is what he’s left with.”

  “Hmmm,” I said, feeling bad for Floyd. “So, did you call Mrs. Allen?” I asked her, tongue-in-cheek.

  Emma groaned. “Oh, God. Yes, I did. I swear I’m a glutton for punishment because she kept me on the phone for a good forty-five minutes talking about Fluffers and the latest hairball he’d hacked up. Don’t even get me started on the whole Doc thing, either. Jesus, you’d think the man would just let the cat be a matted mess rather than subjecting himself to the ass-chewing he gets every time.”

  I laughed until tears were pouring down my face as Emma continued to recount her conversation. When she was finally done, we chatted a little bit more, with her asking about Ian and if he’d gotten everything worked out about the accident at work. Then she asked about my class and if I had any new funny stories.

  Ironically (or not so ironically), I did. And who did it involve? Gerry the Gerbil, of course. “Yeah, I had a kid try to smuggle Gerry out of the classroom yesterday. How did he do that, you ask? Well, let me tell you,” I said, heavy on the sarcasm and disbelief. Seriously, if it wasn’t something I’d lived through myself, I’d probably think I was a liar.

  Ian was sitting in the recliner and I was kicked back on the couch, but he must have been listening with half-an ear, because he started chuckling.

  Emma was already laughing, too, just imagining what was coming. “Hold on, wait, wait…let me put this on speaker. I know Luke, Brandon, and T.J. are gonna wanna hear this!”

  I paused, asking, “Are you still at the shop?” I looked at the clock, seeing that it was after seven and she was usually home with Everly by then.

  “Yeah, Mom and Dad took the baby for the night, and the guys had a couple clients booked so I hung around. Watching all the tatted up sexiness strut around is hard work, you know,” she drawled, and I could hear the guys laughing and hooting in the background.

  “Geez, what a rough Friday night you’re having,” I retorted, rolling my eyes at Ian. Emma just laughed again. “Anyway, back to Gerry-”

  I was cut off by T.J. asking, “Who the fuck is Gerry?” but before I could reply, I heard Luke say, “Not who, what. Gerry’s a gerbil, dude.”

  I opened my mouth to continue again, and once more was cut off. Ian looked at me weird, so I covered the phone with my hand and whispered to him, “She put it on speaker, so now the guys are all interrupting.” He nodded in an, ‘Ahhh, I get it,’ way and went back to watching TV, his lips still twitching in anticipation of what I was about to say.

  “What the hell do you have a gerbil for, Leah?” T.J. asked.

  I didn’t even bother answering, and for good reason. I heard Brandon pipe up with, “For illicit sexual acts, dumbass. What do you think?” He said it sarcastically, thank God, which is the only reason I still kept my mouth shut. “It’s the class pet.”

  “Oh, yeah,” T.J. answered. “I forgot she was a teacher.”

  I winced when Emma clapped her hands loudly, obviously not bothering to move them away from where she must have laid the phone down when she put it on speaker phone. “Alright! Let the poor girl finish or I’m taking it off speaker and you don’t get to hear!” she yelled.

  Yup. That’s my sister.

  “Okay,” I started again. “So about half an hour before the end of class, one of the boys in the class asked if he could get Gerry out and hold him for a bit. I said sure, helped him get him out, and set him up-oh, did I tell you I got a tiny little plastic kiddy pool and put it in the corner so the kids could kneel at the side and put Gerry in it so he’d quit getting loose?” I asked, cutting myself off.

  “No, you didn’t. That’s a good idea! Now you won’t have to worry about the other teachers staging a protest anymore,” Emma said.

  “Anyway, I let the boy put Gerry in the pool and he was sitting there, petting him and watching him run around. I turned around to answer another student who asked a question and when I turned around, Gerry was not in the pool anymore. I asked him where Gerry was and he said that he jumped out of the pool.”

  Emma and the guys must have been completely invested in the story now, because I wasn’t hearing a peep from their end.

  “I looked around, but I was a little suspicious, especially because I noticed that he was starting to fidget a lot more than usual-”

  Brandon interrupted this time. “The kid, not Gerry, right?”

  I sighed. “Yes, the kid, I didn’t know where Gerry was, remember? Pay attention!” I said, jokingly. “Moving on. I asked the kid if he was telling the truth, and his face got really red. All of a sudden, he let out this God-awful shriek and started dancing around, holding his crotch!”

  “Aw, hell no!” one of the guys hollered. “He put it down his pants? That’s just messed up!”

  “I know, right?” I replied, still in disbelief that it had actually happened. “I got him to hold still and asked him to please carefully take Gerry out of his pants. He did, and handed me a very clearly traumatized, but no worse for the wear, gerbil. But the poor kid was crying, saying that Gerry bit him so I had to get someone to cover my room for a minute and walk him up to the office to call his parents. They had to come down and check him with the nurse, you know, since it was in a delicate area.”

  “Oh, God!” I heard a mix of groaning and laughter coming from the other end of the line and figured that the guys were probably cupping themselves protectively, same as Ian did last night when I told him what happened.

  “He didn’t really get bit on his little…you know. It was more like Gerry just nipped him on his thigh, didn’t break the skin, no marks, nothing. Do you know how mortifying it is to have to explain to a parent that their son put a gerbil in his pants?” I cried, feeling my face flame red with embarrassment once more, just thinking about it.

  “What did his parents say?” Emma asked.

  “They just asked him why he put Gerry in his pants and he told them he just wanted to take him home so he could have a gerbil. No other reason.”

  Luke called out, “Well, Leah wins most interesting day, hands down.”

  Sadly, no one disagreed.

  With that conversation over, Emma and I talked for just a couple more minutes and hung up, but only after I promised that we would be at Mom and Dad’s for Sunday breakfast. That was something we’d always done, but since the group had grown so much and everyone had their own things going all the time, we didn’t do it as often, but Mom had put her foot down and said she was reinstating Sunday breakfast, or else. We didn’t ask or else what. We knew the answer.

  Because she said so.

  Chapter 7

  I stood in the doorway to Ian’s office, completely dumbstruck by what I saw.

  It was Friday once more, and the week since the “incident” as we were calling it had passed without event. I was grateful for that…until now. I’d come down to Ian’s office, which I did from time to time, just to see him, especially when I knew he’d be there and not out on a job.

  But it wasn’t Ian in his office chair.

  Nope. Far from it.

  And as I stood there, frozen to the spot, unable to say a word, though r
age was working its way through my body, coursing through my veins until they were almost boiling, I felt warm hands circle round my waist, pulling me back against a hard chest.

  The velvet, deep voice that I so loved spoke in my ear, saying, “Hey, baby…”

  That’s when his eyes followed my gaze and his whole body stiffened. “Fucking hell!” he roared, gently pushing me to the side out of his way. He strode into his office, reaching for the zippered hoodie he had hanging on a hook just inside the door and threw it at Victoria, who was lounging in his chair, feet propped up on his desk.

  Naked. With the exception of a hard hat and high heels.

  “Get the fuck outta my chair and cover yourself!” Ian growled, clenching his fists and glaring at the woman.

  She just giggled and slowly lifted herself out of his chair, taking her time wrapping herself in his shirt. “Hey, lover!” she said, cheerfully. “I came by to surprise my boyfriend at work but,” she paused and turned to look at me.

  I’ve never been scared of Victoria. Nothing about her had ever given me pause that maybe, just maybe, she was a little more dangerously unhinged than we thought…until that moment.

  The moment her eyes hit me, chills raced down my spine and goosebumps crept along my skin. There was a deeper calculation in her eyes that I’d never seen before, and it didn’t get any better when she spoke. It was like a totally different woman from the one I’d been dealing with for the past year.

  “But, someone obviously can’t take the hint that we’re together,” she continued. She turned to Ian then and said, “You know, I’ve let you have your fun, but don’t you think it’s time you were done sowing your wild oats? I’m ovulating, so it’s the perfect time to start our family, and your mom has been holding your grandmother’s ring for you to give me. I even had it sized already, so it’ll fit perfectly when you finally propose.”

  She preened and minced over to Ian, reaching up and running her hand down his t-shirt covered chest. She pouted when he flinched away, knocking her hand down.

  The shock wore off enough that I finally found my tongue. “Don’t touch him!” I said, sharply. She turned to look at me again, a disturbing gleam in her eyes. “Get your shit and get the fuck out of here. You aren’t wanted here by anyone, Victoria, especially Ian. Get it through your fucked-up head,” I said, my voice low with warning.