Under Locke Page 22
“You okay?” he whispered, so close I could feel his warm breath on my nose.
My hands shook. I swallowed hard and nodded a partial lie. “Yeah.”
Dex’s gaze flickered over my eyes, nose, mouth, and even throat. His expression was soft. He reached up to circle one of my free hands in his, his features tightening as my fingers trembled in his palm. “Your pulse is poundin', babe.”
“I’m fine.” Being freaked out fell into the same category as being fine. As long as I hadn't peed on myself, then I could still be fine.
He didn’t speak as he pulled on the hand he was then holding, leading me toward the hallway. In a daze, I noticed that Blake and Slim looked worried as I passed by them, and I tried my best to give them a smile but it was shaky. It felt like I'd just gotten off a roller coaster.
Dex shook his head on the walk passed his office, passed the private rooms, clasping my hand even tighter as he pulled us into the break room.
“Come here, Ritz,” he ordered, stopping us right next to the kitchen counter. Before I realized what was happening, his hands were on my h*ps and he was settling me on top of the counter. Dex’s palms grazed my knees as he stepped back to the soda vending machine in the corner. “Wait a sec.”
Like I could go anywhere, but I sat there silently, sliding my hands under my thighs so that I wouldn’t feel them twitching anymore. He pulled out a bill from his wallet and put the money into the machine, getting a Coke in return. Holding it in one hand, he moved to the opposite end of the long counter and started fishing through the overhead cabinets. He pulled out a loaf of bread, withdrawing two slices before retying the knot and stashing it back into its hiding spot.
I wasn’t sure what the heck was going on. I couldn’t help watching him tenderly hold the slices in one hand and the Coke can in the other as he walked toward me, stopping so close his hip brushed against the side of my thigh.
“Here.” Dex tried to hand me one of the slices, setting the soda down between us.
“What?” I was looking at the seeds in the bread.
“Eat it, babe.” He held the piece of bread up higher.
I shook my head, darting my eyes back up to his. “I’m not hungry.”
Dex lifted the slice even higher so that it was in line with my mouth. “I don’t care if you’re not hungry. It’ll calm you down.”
The urge to argue with him was right there but by the look he gave me, a hard, uncompromising glare, I figured it was useless. That wasn’t the right moment to pick a fight with him. I plucked the bread from his hand and ate it slowly, watching him out of the corner of my eye the entire time. As soon as I finished, he was handing me the second slice. I gave him another look but got the same no-nonsense glare in return.
So I ate it because otherwise, he'd probably shove it down my throat by force.
He watched until I had about a quarter of it left, when he then popped the lid on the soda and handed it to me the minute I swallowed the last bite of nutty bread.
“I should've kicked his f**kin' ass for talkin' to you like that,” he murmured when I was taking my first sip of Coke.
It was a miracle I didn’t cough it up. Hadn't he talked to me like I was stupid at least three times before this moment? I know that I must have had a what-the-hell face plastered because the expression on his face darkened.
All right, maybe I wouldn't point out how much of a hypocrite he was.
Even if Sonny had said he was harmless, that didn't mean his words were anything that resembled soft and caring. He was probably just dealing with me out of guilt. Whatever.
“It’s okay,” I warbled out.
“No, it’s not.” He ducked his head close, eyes searching mine again. “He scare you?”
I sucked in a ragged breath, sensing for the first time that my heart wasn’t pounding as forcefully as it had been at first. “He caught me off guard,” I breathed out. Two men making me feel like a piece of crap in less than a week must have been a world record.
Dex tensed up before shifting his body over so that he stood in front of me, placing his hands on either side of my legs. He stayed quiet for the longest, his eyes flashing a multitude of emotions I couldn’t recognize under a tightly controlled mask. For a split second I wished I would have known him better to understand what was going through his brain, but as quickly as the urge came, it left.
Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth consciously the entire time until he scratched the tip of his nose. “It won’t happen again.”
There was no way he could promise that to me. No way. But that magnetic, hot violence was still rolling off his shoulders and chest, caging me in even more so than his upper body physically was.
“I’ll talk to Rick, have him apologize, babe. I don’t need you bein’ scared. He’s a lousy drunk.”
I gave him a slow one-shouldered shrug, looking away. His breathing was noisy as I thought about how nice he’d just been, standing in front of me when his friend started yelling, trying to get me to calm down. But I didn’t get it. Just days ago, he was losing his flipping mind. Last week he’d been trying to kick me out. I didn’t get it and it made me feel uncomfortable and confused.
“I’m okay now,” I whispered.
He didn’t move or say anything.
I shifted forward on the counter, wiggling my bottom so that it was teetering over the edge but Dex was too close, and I couldn’t hop off completely without pressing myself fully against him. “I want to get down now.”
Of course he didn’t move. “Sit a little longer.”
“I’m fine,” I insisted, fighting the urge to look up at his face.
One of his hands slid onto my knee. Even over the thick material of my brown pants, it was searing hot. Or at least it was like my blood flow had redirected itself to that one point under my skin. Damn you, traitorous body. “Iris, why won’t you look at me?”
Oh hell.
His voice took on that milky, smooth, deep tone that made me feel like a book of matches had been lit inside my gut, and the way he said my name… Ef. Me. I didn’t even think he knew my name. He hadn’t used it once the entire time I’d been working at Pins.
“I just want to get down,” I told him, glancing down at his hand.
Dex squeezed my thigh. “You can get down after you tell me why you still won’t look me in the face.”
I insisted. “Please.”
“No.”
“I want to get down.”
He squeezed me again. “No.”
“Let me down.”
“No.”
Oh shit. Annoyed as hell, I tilted my head up at him. “One minute you're kind of a f**king jerk—," did I just drop the f-bomb again? Why, yes, yes, I had. "Then the next minute you’re carrying me to my room and sharing your secret stash of bread with me. It doesn't make sense,” I said honestly. "I don't want to look at you because you hurt my feelings, okay? I don't know what to think."
And he just blinked. “That it?”
My head dropped back so I could look at the ceiling. Was this guy for real?
“Ritz, c’mon. That’s why you won’t look at me? 'Cause I talk outta my ass?” The questions were so casual it was like he was asking whether I wanted ranch dressing on my salad or Italian. So annoying.