The Sweet Under His Skin Read Online Free Page A

the table. "At least take this, okay? Put it in an emergency fund or something."
    Arielle eyed up the money. It was all different denominations, crumpled. She didn't want to know who Jolene got it from. And she certainly didn't want it on the table she ate her meals on.
    "I don't want it, Jolene. I mean it."
    Jolene sighed. "Won't it help though?"
    Yeah, it would. Of course it would. "I don't want it. It's stolen. And that's not what Calvin needs to see, Jolene."
    Her sister gathered the cash, head down, and shoved it back into the wallet. As she did so, one panel flopped open, the window displaying a California driver's license.
    Arielle froze. "Shit," she whispered, snatching the leather back from Jolene.
    "What?"
    Arielle stared at the photo ID, her stomach twisting. She couldn’t mistake those mesmerizing eyes to be anyone else’s. "Fuck, Jolene. Is this who you robbed?"
    "Why?"
    She flipped the wallet over to show her sister the photo. "This guy? Did you happen to notice the street address on this ID?"
    Jolene frowned. "No. Why?" She leaned forward, then her eyebrows shot up. "Oh, fuck me."
    "Nice work, Jolene. You said he was a hot-tub salesman! Why can't you rob people that aren't armed?" she was shouting, heart rate flying to catch up with her anger.
    Arielle shoved the wallet at her sister again, grabbing the phone. "I'm calling you a cab. And you're going right to the bus station and getting out of town. But first you're going next door and putting that wallet in his mailbox."
    Jolene looked at her like she was insane. "What? No I'm not."
    Arielle carried the cordless to the window off the dining room that overlooked her driveway and the neighbor's. The bike wasn't there. Thank God.
    She whirled on Jolene, who had followed her. "You have to give it back, Jolene. Those guys are dangerous, you know that, right? And this guy scares the shit out of me.He’s…"
    Jolene huffed. "Can I keep some of the money?"
    "Are you insane? Jolene, I…aren't you scared of people? Ever?" That's when the cab dispatch answered the phone, and Arielle ordered a car to her address. She was told it would be there in ten minutes. She hung up the phone, shaking her head, her hands trembling. "Christ, I hope he's not back soon."
    "He'll sleep until noon, trust me."
    Arielle took a deep breath. "You can't come back here until I find another place. If he sees you—"
    "Don't worry, Arielle."
    "Don't tell me not to worry. Do you have death wish or are you just this fucking stupid?" She felt bad saying it, but her only recourse was to lock herself in the bathroom and run some cold water to splash on her face while praying the cab got there before her scary-biker neighbor returned home.
    When she was calm again, she dried her face and returned to the living room. Jolene had the same zoned-out expression as Calvin while she watched the TV, and Arielle felt her heart break. Jolene got to be his biological mom, and once Arielle was through chemo she'd be unable to have kids.
    That was the most unfair fucking thing about all of it.
    She went to the kitchen for more coffee, and when she returned to the living room she caught sight of a car pulling up to the curb. "Cab's here," Arielle snapped, and Jolene automatically got to her feet, grabbed her bag off the floor and made for the door. Calvin got up and followed to see their guest‘out’, because he was having manners bred into him at that moment.
    They stood on the stoop, Calvin in front of her, and Arielle held his shoulders while Jolene sauntered down the walkway. Then she had a thought and turned around. "I want to come back for Calvin's birthday, though."
    Arielle sighed. "Jolene, you can't. If I were you'd I'd stay the hell out of Portus Felix!" As she said it she heard the God-fearing rumbles, and her heart probably stopped pumping life then.
    Jolene turned towards the sound. Arielle wanted to scream at her to get in the cab and get gone, but the bikes were there fast. Too late, Jolene's