I step back from the photos. There’s nothing with Linda. No recent shots of Sierra’s dad, either. I can understand why she wouldn’t have any pictures of Linda. But her father?
Well. The man was dumb enough to marry Linda, so maybe he deserves to be cut out of Sierra’s life.
I go back to her college graduation photo. She’s smiling, her eyes twinkling. But something about her expression bothers me. It looks almost as if she’s faking her happiness in the picture.
She’s just too damn happy. It’s weird and unnatural. Like she has something to hide underneath that brilliant smile.
I turn and bump into a small table. I right it, grabbing the hamster cage before it can fall. The hamsters inside squeak and scurry around in the sawdust.
“I see you’ve met Bullet and G-Spot.”
Sierra walks up in a loose cotton T-shirt with Silicone Dream written across the chest and boxer shorts that come to her mid-thigh, revealing long, shapely legs. The sight of them puts an X-rated image in my head.
Jesus. Cut that out.Getting a hard-on after telling her I’m going to feign being her boyfriend for a while to keep her safe from her ex-husband isn’t going to inspire much confidence.
I look away from her legs. My gaze drops to her bare feet. They’re narrow, nails painted pink. Her toes are small and cute.
What the hell…? Now I think her toes are cute.
Think of something other than her legs wrapped around my waist or how cute her toes are!
My mind searches for something to grab on to distract itself. “You named them Bullet and G-Spot?” Not the best topic to switch to, genius.
“Yup. Unlike Bullet, G-Spot likes to escape from the cage.” She pauses for a moment. “And, of course, when that happened, Todd could never find her.” Sierra winks.
I snort. Give how self-absorbed he is, he wouldn’t be able to find something as obvious as two breasts with a map.
She comes closer. Her face is scrubbed clean, her cheeks naturally rosy. Without any makeup, she looks younger and more vulnerable.
Infinitely more kissable.
Don’t go there.
I yank my mind back. I don’t do relationships. Not the way Huxley or Grant do. I have sex. Uncomplicated, no-strings sex. I don’t have to like the person I’m sleeping with, as long as she’s hot and keeps things simple.
Sierra doesn’t seem like the type for uncomplicated sex. She has photos of her family. She was married for two years to that horrible waste called Todd, probably because she liked relationships and all the attendant messy complications. It seems pretty obvious that she didn’t marry him for the sex.
She opens the cage. The hamsters trundle forward. She picks them up, placing them on her palm. “This is Bullet, and this is G-Spot. Both girls.”
I look them over. G-Spot is a bit larger, with a white spot between the eyebrows—assuming hamsters have eyebrows. Bullet has a pale sandy streak down her back. Their pink noses vibrate, their whiskers quivering.
“Let them smell you. They like to meet new people.”
I put my hand out. Bullet hops on first, then G-Spot. The whispers tickle as they sniff me. “So these are the vicious attack hamsters.”
“Yup. When they bite, it’s hard, enough to draw blood,” Sierra says with a fond look.
“Have they done that before?”
“To Todd, when he grabbed Bullet too roughly. He let go immediately.”
Hmm. Manhandling small animals is a terrible trait. Even if Todd isn’t a serial killer, there’s clearly something wrong with him.
She leans toward my hand and smiles at the hamsters. This close, the apple scent is strong. Plus, I can feel her body heat.
If this keeps up, I’m going to start getting hard-ons in apple orchards.
“I brought my stuff.” Anything to disrupt this train of thought.