Handful by C.R. Grissom
CHAPTER TWO
Eric McBride aka Everest
I’ve been sucker punched by someone who belongs in a Disney movie. I’m surprised pixie dust doesn’t sparkle around her like an aura. Ten minutes in her company and I’m already attracted. Shit. If I’m being honest, Kirsty hooked me at first glance.
Boxed into the back seat of the car behind Kirsty and Faith—knees tickling my earlobes—isn’t an ideal flirting position.
Not that I’ll act on my attraction. Charlene took off for London a little more than a week ago. Am I hurting over it? Not really. I knew about her decision to transfer almost as soon as she did. I made peace with the fact that our relationship was temporary months ago. We had some good times. And times that could be described as not so good.
Charlene never understood my commitment to the team didn’t end when I left Gladiator Colosseum. My brothers—the men who take the field with me—are my family. This one difference obliterated our chances at a lasting relationship.
Well, and the fact she left the country.
My lips curve listening to Faith and Kirsty catch up with each other—wicked-fast chatter and quick laughter—enjoying their code-speak about people back home. These two are sisters without common blood. Maybe that’s why there isn’t any animosity layered in their exchange. Unlike my five sisters, whose conversations are pitted with accusations of past crimes and current charges of clothing appropriation. Most are hurled at Marla, the baby of our family, and the most entitled of our brood.
My sisters will fight each other bloody, but band together if anyone tries to come between or after them. Gotta love family.
Kirsty shoots me a quick grin over her shoulder. “Doin’ okay back there, Everest? Are we going to need to grease you up to get you out?”
Now there’s an image. I wouldn’t say no, which means I’m forced to ignore the thought. “I’m sure we won’t have to resort to extreme measures.”
Her smirk reveals a dimple just south of the left corner of her lower lip. Damn. I’m a sucker for dimples. Especially the kind that pop without a grin.
“Where’s your mechanic?” Faith meets my gaze in the rearview mirror, a contemplative look in her eyes. When I grin at her reflection, Faith’s left eyebrow hikes toward her hairline independent of its mate.
Busted.Faith knows me well. I assume she’s clued in to my attraction for Kirsty. “Don’t take the freeway. Follow the signs to Coleman. Turn left at the light, Lola.”
“Got it.”
I’ve always called Faith, Lola. I met her and the pet name jumped in my brain. She’s Lola and that’s it. Her gaze meets mine again in the mirror. I hear her unspoken warning to behave, and wink at her. “The place is on Coleman about a mile down. Freitas Repair and Collision Specialists.”
Kirsty twists in her seat to ask, “Tell me. What do you do in the off-season?”
Her light green eyes—nearly feline—sparkle. I feel her gaze in my gut but manage to answer, “Condition. Code. The usual. You?”
“I don’t have an off-season.”
I’m sure you don’t.But I simply nod instead of sharing that opinion. Not acting on attraction isn’t a well-honed skill of mine, but in Kirsty’s case, I’ll have to do better.
She shrugs. “School starts up again almost as soon as I get back to Newford.”
“Have you declared a major or are you keeping your options open?”
“Biology.”
Interesting. Smart women are my kryptonite. “In what field?”
“Epidemiology. I want to work in a dark lab like a superhero before the inciting incident.”
My smile goes wide. “I can see you as a superhero.”
She levels a glance at me. Her dimple pops with her smirk. “Am I wearing a cape?”
Her question conjures an image of Kirsty wearing something form-fitting and sexy. My abs go tight. “No.”
Faith pulls into the mechanic’s lot. Kirsty jumps out of the car when Faith slides into a spot and opens the passenger door. “Which of my superpowers should I use to extricate you?” she asks.
“Drop the seat forward, smart-ass.”
I feel instant relief when the seat moves forward and I gain a few more inches to maneuver my legs out of the back seat. “The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?”
Kirsty raises both eyebrows. Her tongue touches the corner of her lip while she works the riddle out. The simple gesture tugs at me.
“Footsteps?” she answers.
“Yup. Gotta move.”
*
I’m glad toget distance and a little time away from Kirsty. Enough to get myself under control. Mostly, at any rate. Her gravitational pull is irresistible.
I pay George for the smog test. He squeezed me in this morning once I realized I had to have it done in order to get the Baja registered. George’s wizardry with cars is the reason I trust him with my ride. No way I’d let anyone else touch my Bronco.
This vehicle has never let me down. Neither has George.
Firing up the engine, I head over to Shades of Willow Glen, the retirement village where Phoebe’s grandmother lives. We’ll move Phoebe’s stuff into Faith’s dorm room. The very spot Charlene, my ex, vacated days ago.
The move shouldn’t take too much time today. Between TJ, CW, and myself we should get Phoebe squared away in her new digs without much trouble. We’ll need to manage a ride back to the airport for Kirsty whenever her luggage arrives. I turn into the 7-Eleven parking lot to pick up an energy drink for Kirsty and make good on my promise to help her caffeinate.
Choosing a recovery-style lemonade-flavored energy drink with Taurine, Vitamin B, and electrolytes, I pay and leave the store.
Behind the wheel again, I drive toward the retirement village and try to pin down what it is about Kirsty that draws me in.
She’s gorgeous, but it’s not the sum total of her appeal. Her spark, I decide. That’s what threw the flag and blew the whistle for me. I felt it the first time she glanced at me after the giant squid-dildo got carted away. More dildong than its lesser known and tamer cousin, the vibrator. That beast was impressive. Best in self-gratification class. Probably takes a car battery to power up.
I grin at the memory.
Being attracted to someone whose head doesn’t clear my pecs is a definite first for me. I sigh. That’s enough brain time thinking about Faith’s best friend.
Pulling into the lot I find a parking spot in the visitor section. I turn off the ignition, and call my teammate TJ, who dates Phoebe. “I’m here. Are we ready to roll?”
“Getting there. Come on up and we’ll get all the way done,” TJ says before disconnecting the call.
The grounds are colorful even in late December. Winter-blooming aloe with sharp spiked edges grows in flower beds that border the paths winding around the condo buildings. Its red stalks add color against the faded green of grass going dormant. Mom grows aloe. Her go-to for sunburns and zits. If I had a dime for every time Mom swiped aloe across my face, I’d have a lot of dimes.
Christmas wreaths hang on most condo doors. Italian cypress trees range around the complex’s fences and provide additional privacy. White lights wind around them. The clear plastic bulbs sparkle when touched by the weakening sunlight.
Phoebe’s grandmother lives on the first floor. I hear laughter before I turn the corner.
TJ, his right arm wrapped around Phoebe, gestures with his left. Faith bends forward, cracking up at whatever he said.
“Look at you,” CW remarks when he bends down to hug Kirsty. “You must have grown an eighth of an inch since I last saw you.”
“Ha,” she scoffs. “Never a shortage of jokes about my height.”
“I see what you did there.” He laughs.
Faith elbows CW in the gut. Kirsty stands next to Faith. A wide grin stretches across her face when CW lets out a loud ‘oof’ sound.
Her smile nearly trips me up. I lock my knees then let out a breath. What am I, a randy twelve-year-old? Get a grip. Kirsty glances over. She’s the first to notice me. She tilts her chin in a quick acknowledgment.
I mimic her gesture.
Her dimple pops when her mouth tips into a smirk.
I’m either going to act on this attraction or develop a resistance to her damn dimple. The sun halos her head, burnishing her long blonde hair into a shimmering gold. The urge to thread my fingers through the bright strands almost overwhelms me. Shit.
I pass Kirsty the energy drink.
“Hey, thanks.” She cracks open the can. “What do I owe you?”
“Respect? Admiration? You pick.”
She snickers. “I’ll get back to you on that.”
I sidle up next to TJ. He’s at the outer edge of the group standing closest to Phoebe’s grandmother. “Hello, Grams.”
“Hello, dear.” She leans in to give me a side hug. “Thank you for helping Phoebe move today.”
“Grams, I’m here to serve. No thanks required.”
Agnes, Phoebe’s honorary granny, says under her breath. “If I were twenty years younger, I’d let you serve.”
I shoot Agnes a wink. She’s what Mom would call a firecracker.
Phoebe snorts. “Behave, Agnes. What will James think?”
“That he has to stay on his toes to keep me?” Agnes answers smugly.
“I heard that, Agnes.” James, her boyfriend, calls out.
I turn to Phoebe. “Well then. Let’s get you settled into the dorm.”
Grams directs the process, which involves TJ, CW, and myself, hauling out boxes of Phoebe’s clothes and books to fit somewhere inside my Bronco, and inside TJ’s Jeep. New bedding in a clear, zippered, plastic tote with the tags still attached gets carried to one of the vehicles. Probably didn’t need us all to accomplish the task, but this is what you do for friends.
Helping out shows friends you’re going to be there when they need you.
Phoebe slides between Grams and Agnes and wraps her arms around them both. “I can’t believe I’m moving out of here. I’m going to miss you guys more than I can say.”
Grams presses her hands to Phoebe’s face. “You’ll make me cry. I hate to see you go, but I’m happy for you. Phoebe, you’re my heart.”
Agnes adds, “Don’t be a stranger, kiddo, and don’t let anyone give you shit.”
Phoebe snorts out a laugh. “I won’t.”
“We’ll see you later. Phoebe has us all lined up to help put together the wedding favors.” TJ leans down to hug Grams.
“You’re a good boy, Tiago.” Grams pats his back.
“Not hard on the eyes either,” Agnes mutters.
Phoebe and TJ climb into his Jeep. CW and Faith head over to his car. Faith calls out to Kirsty, “Coming?”
“I’ll ride with Everest, if that’s okay?”
I nod, but my pulse picks up. One word reverberates through my brain: why?
Kirsty walks over to the passenger side of my ride. She opens the door and tilts her head. “Got a mounting block for this pony?”
I grin. “You want a hand up?”
“Not if you plan to put your hand on my ass to guide me in.” Her eyes go narrow as her gaze meets mine.
“No.” Small of her back at worst. I’m nearly positive. But her salty question makes my lips twitch. “I can lift you by the scruff of your neck.”
She pins me with a sly glance. “I bet you can’t figure out a way to help me into your Bronco that doesn’t involve putting your hands on me.”
I could pull out of this space and up to the curb, but what fun is that? I lift my foot about eight inches off the ground in front of her.
“How does your foot help me?”
Why her attitude makes me like her more is definitely something I’ll need to revisit later. When this green-eyed Tinker Bell stops busting my balls, and I’m alone and at peace again. “Pretend it’s a mounting block. Use my foot as a step.”
“No way this works. I don’t need to face plant into the doorframe.” She crosses her arms.
CW pulls up behind the Bronco and rolls down the window. “What’s the holdup?”
I sigh. “Kirsty thinks I’m trying to con her into a head injury for a bet.”
Faith climbs out of the car. “What’s going on?” she demands, hands fisted on her hips.
Dropping my foot to the ground I answer, “Your height-challenged friend needs a boost. Since she has concerns about the remote possibility of having my hands on her ass, I offered my foot as a step.”
Kirsty shrugs. “I bet him that he couldn’t get me in the car without putting his hands on me, but I’ll just ride with you two.”
“Chicken.” I don’t know what devil possessed me to say that, but it’s one more item to think about later.
Kirsty’s back goes ramrod straight.
TJ pulls in behind CW and joins us. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
“Are we going to wager on whether you use my foot as a step?” I ask.
Her chin juts forward. “What do you want to bet?”
I shouldn’t encourage this ridiculous situation, but I’m not going to be the one to back out. “Loser buys the winner a meal.”
TJ and CW high-five each other.
Faith interrupts, “Kirsty, you don’t want to make this bet.”
Phoebe shakes her head while an expressive cringe passes over her face.
Kirsty’s nostrils flare and she ignores Faith. “Done.”
“Step up, Princess.” I lift my foot about eight inches off the ground once more.
Kirsty steps on my raised foot, but she doesn’t immediately get in the vehicle. She holds herself steady by grabbing the frame. Kirsty probably weighs one hundred pounds soaking wet. My foot doesn’t move. It won’t.
She narrows her eyes. I grin at her and raise my foot a few inches. My leg is like concrete. I won’t let her fall. She huffs out a breath and climbs into the car, and I’ve won a free meal.
She shakes her head. “I should have listened to Faith.”
Lola cups a hand around her ear. “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”
From inside the Bronco, I hear Kirsty snort. “Move along, everyone. Nothing more to see here. Just a fool who will never question the strength of a mountain again.”