Armie’s deep brown eyes watched her with a sizzling sort of menace, and she cleared her throat. “I tried calling him, but he didn’t answer, and he’s not at the hotel. I thought maybe—”
“He’s with Yvette.”
Why did Armie always keep her at a distance? And why, for the love of God, did that only make her want him more? “Yvette who?”
“Sweeny. You knew her, I think. She’s—”
“I do!” Wow, she’d wondered if Yvette would ever return. A million questions went through her mind, but she settled on one in particular. “Why is Cannon with her?”
Armie cocked a brow.
“Oh.” Wow again. Cannon and Yvette? Still? It had to have been...what? Three years. In rapid order, she went through the timeline, recalling how Yvette had always crushed on Cannon and how Cannon had helped to rescue her—and how he’d gone off to fight in the SBC and she’d gone off to live in California. “I see.”
“I have company waiting, so Cannon can fill you in on everything, but he’s at her family home with her. Living with her, actually.”
The surprises kept coming. “Since when?”
“Since the get-go, far as I can tell.” For the first time that night, Armie gave her a sincere smile. “She arrived and he moved in.”
“That was fast.”
“Slow, if you ask Cannon.”
When Armie smiled, he was the most devastatingly handsome man she’d ever seen. “Slow?”
“Seems he’s been waiting on her for a while.”
The door opened yet again, and this time the redhead and blonde each wore only their panties.
“Oh, for the love of...” Merissa turned away, anxious to avoid any more embarrassment.
From behind her, she heard hushed words from Armie, whining words from the women, and thought about sticking her fingers in her ears. Instead she concentrated on her retreat.
She’d gotten down ten steps when Armie grabbed her again.
“Hold up, damn it.”
“What?” she asked as she turned to face him.
Her temper apparently cooled his. He turned patronizing. “I’m walking you to your car.”
“Ha! No way.” She started off again.
He didn’t argue, but damn him, he followed all the same. Mostly naked. Those worn, faded, open jeans riding low on his lean hips.
Using both hands, Merissa slammed open the wide double entry doors and stalked out into the humid evening air. Security lights warded off any imagined danger, except for the danger of Armie at her back.
Danger to her peace of mind. “Go away, Armie.”
Mocking her, he asked, “Why are you so mad?”
“I’m not.”
He snorted and tugged on a lock of her hair. “You have steam coming out your ass.”
Gasping, she rounded on him. “I do not!”
He scrutinized her. “Maybe your ears, too. And just where the hell did you park?”
“Over there.” She pointed to her little—and ancient—blue car.
Hands on his hips, Armie stared where she indicated. “In the dark. Away from the apartment building.” His gaze slanted her way. “Just where the hell is your boyfriend?”
She shrugged. Didn’t know and didn’t really care. He was supposed to pick her up from the airport, but he hadn’t shown. Which was fine by her. He wasn’t her boyfriend so much as...convenient. Now that he wasn’t so convenient, well, then, she had no reason to keep seeing him.
Knowing she’d have to explain that to him, though, she said, “I’ll hook up with him tomorrow.”
Both brows lifted. “Hook up?”
“I don’t mean that. I mean meet up.” She shook her head at him. “Not all of us are oversexed apes.”
“I’m not an ape.”
She noticed he didn’t deny the oversexed part. “Goodbye, Armie.”
He followed her. Again. Still.
“You aren’t worried that your lady friends will finish without you?”
“If they do, I’ll just get them started again. I’m good at that, you know. At revving the engine and—”
When she looked at him, he clammed up, then muttered, “Damn it.”
“What?”
“I shouldn’t talk like that to you.”
“You talk like that to everyone.”
Ignoring her interruption, he added with more heat, “You shouldn’t let me. Hell, you shouldn’t even be here.”
Another smackdown. In every way imaginable he’d let her know she was unwelcome.
While trying to think of a suitable rejoinder, Merissa opened her car door and got in. Already the interior had gotten stuffy, so she rolled down the window, kicked on the engine and turned up the air.
Suddenly Armie was there, his hands braced on the top of the window frame as he leaned down, his face somber, his mood officious. “Don’t ever do this again.”
Why the sight of his underarms left her flustered, she didn’t know, except that the way he stood and what he displayed emphasized his masculinity in a big way.
“Rissy?” he whispered, sounding pained.
She’d heard the nickname most of her life. It sounded very different coming from him, somehow more personal. Preparing herself for his impact, she met his gaze.
As she stared up at him, his face hardened. “Never again.” He straightened. “Lock your doors,” he ordered before walking away.