Gypsy Soul: A Bad Boy Protector Romance (Lost Boys Book 3) Read online

  2

  I DON’T LIKE how that guy’s looking at me. Like my presence is tainting his fancy office building.

  Like I don’t deserve to be here.

  Fuck him.

  I sit in my car, one hand slung over the wheel, staring back at the suit staring at me. He needs to know I’m not someone he should be fucking with. That means I’m sitting here as long as I have to.

  He lasts longer than I expect, glaring my way for a full minute before sipping from his fucking coffee cup, tucking one hand into the pocket of his expensive suit, and slowly turning away.

  That’s when I see what he turned to face.

  Felicity.

  She’s at his side, an open file in her hands, one long, slender finger pointing something out to him. My blood starts to heat as he steps close to her and then rests one hand on the small of her back.

  Like he has the right to put it there.

  I put my car in park, ready to go in and rip that hand off.

  And then beat him to death with it.

  But almost as soon as his touch connects, Felicity steps away, her eyes dropping to the hand he dared touch her with, before moving back up to his face. One dark brow lifts.

  The suit immediately tucks the hand he almost lost back into his pocket.

  I don’t have time to be relieved, because the next second Felicity turns my way, her clear blue eyes immediately finding mine. They barely widen before narrowing as her lips twist into the scowl she almost always wears around me.

  It makes me smile.

  My smile only deepens her frown, lightening my mood immediately.

  I put the car in drive and slowly pull away, keeping my eyes on hers until she’s out of sight.

  That woman is something else.

  My grin lasts the whole drive to the warehouse I’ve been running for just over a year. First for King, now for Jill and the rest of us. When I walk in, the first truck of the day is already at the dock. Jeff, my second, is checking the delivery, making sure everything is there before signing off to let the guys unload. I give him a nod. “Everything look good?”

  “Looks like.” He signs off on the digital pad and waves the group of men waiting toward the truck. “Go ahead.” He follows me into the office. “We’ve got a big shipment of mattresses coming in this afternoon and no place to put them.”

  I drop into my chair and scan the laminated layout of the building on the desk in front of me. “How big is big?”

  Jeff checks the clipboard always in his hand. “Five hundred units.”

  “When are they coming for the skids of storage tubs?” I flip through my own paperwork. “I think it’s today.”

  We’ve been juggling like crazy lately, trying to find room we don’t have. “We either need to add another building or we’re going to have to start turning jobs down.”

  “We probably should have already started turning down.” Jeff flips through pages listing our current inventory. “Found it. It’s today.”

  “They usually do a morning pick-up, so let’s get everything pulled and ready, that way we can make room for the mattresses.” I stand up, ready to go deliver directions to the crew. “How long are the mattresses staying?”

  “Two weeks.” Jeff tucks his clipboard under one arm and follows me out into the main warehouse.

  “Perfect.” I lead Jeff back to the spot where a truckful of plastic storage bins set to be a special deal at the local Dollar Stores is taking up a substantial amount of space. I eye the rack. “I think we’ll be fine, but don’t take anything else on until we get a good grip on our availability.”

  “Sounds good.” Jeff shoves his pen behind one ear and grabs the walkie-talkie strapped to his belt, letting the guys know where to go next.

  “How’s it going?” Tracker’s voice is a welcome surprise this morning.

  “Better now that there’s an extra set of hands on deck.” I turn, giving him a grin, feeling just a little like I used to.

  Relaxed.

  He holds his hands out. “I came ready to work.” He nods to Jeff. “Morning, old man.”

  Jeff snorts the way he always does when one of us calls him an old man. The guy can run circles around the rest of us and usually does. “Old man my ass.” He claps Tracker on the back as he passes. “How’s things?”

  “Been better.” Tracker lifts his shoulders. “Been worse too, so I shouldn’t fuckin’ complain.” He waits until Jeff is out of earshot before turning his gaze to mine. “Anything interesting happening?”

  Besides a motherfucker putting his hands on Felicity?

  “No.” I eye the stacks around us. “You?”

  Tracker shakes his head. “Nothing.”

  This is getting frustrating as hell. At least when King’s being a pain in the ass we know what he’s up to. “It’s been too quiet.”

  “That’s not good.” Tracker steps in beside me as I walk back to the front office. “Has Wind figured out where he’s staying?”

  “No. No one’s heard anything.” I rake my fingers through my hair, working it off my face and into a band. “I don’t fucking like it.”

  “How’s Felicity?”

  “Still pretending to hate me.” I grab the key to one of the forklifts off its hook.

  “She might not be pretending, man. That girl might actually hate you.” Tracker sets his phone on my desk and leans his head from side to side, cracking his neck.

  I might be inclined to believe him if I hadn’t seen how she reacted when I touched her this morning. Up until then I went back and forth. One minute I thought she hated me. The next I thought she wanted to fuck me.

  Then I thought maybe she wanted to hate fuck me.

  Now I’m not sure it’s any of those.

  “I guess we’ll find out.” I climb into the forklift and start it up, the roar of the engine ending the conversation. I’m not interested in discussing Felicity right now.

  Mostly because I’m still pissed that pecker put his hands on her.

  Like she was his.

  She’s fucking not.

  I spend the rest of the day busting my ass, moving product onto trucks, off trucks, on racks, off racks. By four-thirty I’m dirty, sweaty, and fucking exhausted.

  Hopefully tired enough I get a full night of sleep. It’ll be my first since I started camping out in the spare room at Felicity’s apartment.

  “You got any plans for the night?” Tracker fishes his keys out of the pile of paperwork drowning the top of my desk.

  “Just getting Felicity and taking her home.”

  Making sure she eats.

  “You guys wanna come to Jill’s? She’s making chili and I thought it would be a good chance for the girls to get out.”

  “I doubt they’ll see it like that.” I know it’s making them all a little crazy, having to be so careful, but it’s the only way to keep them safe until King is taken out.

  Whatever that ends up meaning.

  “They’ve just got to understand how it is.” Tracker says it like he thinks any of the women we’re dealing with listen to anything we say.

  “Tell me how that works out for you.” I get my own keys and check the time on my phone. “I gotta go. She’ll be getting off soon.”

  Tracker lifts a brow. “Will she now?”

  “Shut the fuck up.” I don’t need any encouragement in that department. It’s occurred to me more than a few times that given the opportunity, I could greatly improve Felicity’s disposition.

  Hell, give me five minutes and she’d hate me a hell of a lot less.

  But it’s clear as day that woman isn’t going to let me anywhere near her bed.

  Or anyplace else I might try to get.

  Even though I’m pretty sure she wants it just as much as I do.

  Tracker lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Fine.” He follows me to the lot. “Just think about coming over. Maybe she’ll be less of a pain in your ass if she gets to have a little time with her friends.”

  I’
m fairly confident that won’t help shit, but I’m not telling him that. “I’ll ask her, but don’t get your hopes up.”

  “Maybe I’ll have Kerri call her. Try to get her on board.”

  “You think it’s a good idea to have Kerri call Felicity?” I don’t even hide my skepticism.

  Kerri and Felicity haven’t always been on good terms.

  Never. They’ve never been on good terms.

  Mostly because Felicity dropped her panties in Tracker’s lap and basically offered to fuck him on the spot.

  And Kerri’s not the only one a little pissed about it.

  “I think Kerri’s over it.” Tracker shoots me a grin. “She knows I only want her panties on my lap.”

  I’m not worried about whose lap Kerri’s panties end up in.

  Felicity’s are another story.

  “I’ll give her a head’s up.” I open the door to my car. “Thanks for your help today.”

  “Anytime.” Tracker pauses outside of the large black Escalade he’s been driving in an attempt to flush King out of hiding. “I think we should look into finding some more space.” He nods to the large warehouse behind us. “That one stays full.”

  “Agreed. We can cover it at the next meeting.” I practically fall into the seat, turn over the engine and peel out of the lot.

  I’m late.

  Thinking of what Felicity might do if I’m not there to get her has my skin tight.

  Honestly I’m not sure what that woman wouldn’t do just to prove she can.

  The exhaustion biting at my eyes eases as my heart picks up, the race to her office pumping blood faster through my veins.

  My tires squeal as I pull into the lot and jerk to a quick stop behind Butch’s obnoxiously yellow Camaro. He’s standing next to the open passenger’s door, talking to the side of Becca’s head as she all but ignores him.

  Butch’s eyes catch mine and he straightens. “She’s already gone.”

  I stop, my whole body going stiff.

  “She’s not gone.” Becca huffs out a breath. “She’s on her way home.”

  “How is she getting there?” I can’t unclench my teeth. It’s been a long fucking day. All I wanted to do was go home. Take a shower. Relieve some of the never ending frustration I’ve been living with the past month, and settle in for a long talk with Felicity.

  “Bob.” Becca says it like it should make me feel better.

  It doesn’t.

  “Bob’s not six feet tall with a shaved head, is he?” I already know the answer. Knew it before I was even out of the car.

  Becca’s eyes barely squint behind her glasses. “He’s probably six two.”

  Fucking Bob.

  I’m back in my car before Becca finishes her sentence, moving before the door’s all the way closed.

  Not playing a game my ass.

  A Bimmer is parked in front of Felicity’s apartment. Shiny and new and expensive as shit.

  Bob probably can’t even change the oil on the fucking thing.

  I slam the door on my car and spend more than a few seconds considering taking a bat to his windshield.

  Show Bob how I handle it when men take something that’s mine.

  Only Felicity isn’t mine. Maybe that’s why I’m so fucking pissed. Because Bob didn’t take anything from me.

  It’s a situation I plan to rectify.

  I open the door and the sound of a single word takes my plans for the bat from contact with glass to contact with a skull.

  “No.”

  It’s strong and sharp. Like my girl is.

  “Come on, Felicity. I promise you would like it.” Bob’s voice carries a smile. He obviously thinks she will cave if he just asks nice enough.

  “You’re married.” Felicity scoffs. “With kids.” I catch the tips of her fingers as she points toward the door. “Get out.”

  “I feel like you’ve made me think this was something you wanted.”

  I’m done. No way is this piece of shit making Felicity think this is her fault.

  That she led him on.

  Doesn’t matter if she fucking did. No means no.

  And Bob’s about to find that out the hard way.

  I’m down the hall and into the kitchen before he can spew anymore bullshit at Felicity. I grab the shoulders of his coat with both hands and pull him back, turning Bob hard, shoving him face first into the kitchen wall. He lets out a deeply satisfying squeal as I slam into him.

  “I think you’re lost, Bob.” I yank him off the wall and use my grip to force him out the door and up against the hood of his car, bending down to deliver a warning only he will hear. “You don’t fucking look at her again, you understand me? You so much as breathe her fucking air and I’m coming for you, and you won’t like what happens when I find you, Bob.”

  “Are you threatening me?” His voice catches, jumping up in pitch as I twist one arm behind his back.

  “Not much on threats, Bob.” I lean closer to his ear. “Threats are for men who don’t follow through.”

  I yank him up and shove him hard toward the door of his expensive car. “And don’t even think about making shit hard for her at work.”

  Bob almost tries to give me a glare, but his eyes drop at the last minute as he rushes to escape into his car.

  I stand tall, eyes on him as he backs out and leaves with his tail between his fucking legs.

  He should. It’s the best choice for someone like him.

  Because the shit I’m willing to do to keep one of mine safe would give him nightmares.

  And Felicity is mine.

  And it’s time to make sure she knows it.

  Bob’s barely out of sight when I turn to go find her.

  I don’t have to look far.

  Felicity stands in the doorway, staring out at me with wide eyes.

  I barely hesitate.

  Fighting I can do. Stealing I have done.

  But this is new territory for me. Felicity is a whole new world.

  One I never expected I’d get to look at, let alone live in, even though it’s all I’ve ever wanted.

  I walk toward her. “Did he hurt you?”

  She barely shakes her head, blue eyes wary. “No.”

  “Good.” I step closer and she starts to back up. I follow, matching her step for step, slamming the door behind me as she backs down the hall. “Because I’d hate to have to kill him tonight.”

  Her eyes widen more and her lips barely part on a soft gasp. “You can’t kill a man for that.”

  “I can.” My steps come faster. “And I would.”

  “Why?” The word is soft. Softer than any Felicity has ever said to me.

  “No one hurts you, Beanie. Doesn’t matter who it is.”

  Her back bumps into the same wall where Bob landed minutes ago. I’m on her in a second, breathing deep as the sweet scent of her skin tickles my nose.

  It’s teased me every second of every fucking day since that night at The Stable. The night I stole her away from The Horsemen, never realizing the woman clinging to me with fear in her eyes was about to turn my whole fucking world upside down.

  I press my palms to the wall instead of putting them where I really want to. I can’t touch her right now.

  I won’t stop.

  “Why didn’t you wait for me, Felicity?” I grate it out, trying to rein in the anger I’m still fighting.

  “I didn’t think you were coming.” Her words are still soft, a hushed whisper that skates over the fire burning my skin, lingering from the sight of Bob in her apartment.

  Trying to get closer.

  “Have I ever not come for you?”

  Her throat works as she swallows. Felicity shakes her head in a jerky movement, her plump lips pressing into a thin line.

  “Then why the fuck would you think I wasn’t coming today?”

  She blinks once. Twice.

  Three times.

  Shit.

  “Shhh.” I don’t even think, just wrap her in my arms. “
Don’t cry, Beanie.” I pull her close, ignoring my body’s immediate response to having Felicity in my arms for the first time.

  “I’m not fucking crying.” She sniffs long and hard, a deep breath meant to pull herself together.

  Because she’s definitely fucking crying.

  I smooth down her hair with one hand, the soft waves feeling like silk under my palm. “I’m sorry.”

  She barely relaxes in my arms, the long line of her lean body curving against mine. I tighten my grip, closing my eyes against the feel of her. I’ve imagined holding her a thousand times. Some of them clean enough for church.

  Some of them dirty as fuck.

  Because I can’t stop imagining Felicity both ways. I don’t just want to fuck her. What I plan to take from her is more than that.

  I want it all, and for the first time in my life I’m stupid enough to think I can have it.

  I breathe in another long breath, pulling the warmth of the air against her skin into my lungs, wishing I could taste that same skin, feel its smoothness under my tongue.

  But I’ve got to fix this first.

  “I’m sorry, Beanie. It just scared the fuck out of me when you weren’t there.” I weave my fingers into the hair that was wrapped into a braid when she left this morning, but hangs loose and free now. “I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you.”

  Her body goes stiff.

  “Stop it.” She pushes me back, her hands flying off my body like I burned her. “Don’t say shit like that. It’s not fair.” Her eyes won’t come to mine as she steps away, turning to almost run down the hall and up the stairs.

  Her bedroom door slams, echoing through the quiet apartment.

  I rake one hand through my hair.

  “Fuck.”

  3

  I SHUCK MY dress and let it drop to the floor as my butt drops to the mattress. I lean forward, catching my head in my hands.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  Gypsy has to go.

  I pull my favorite t-shirt over my head, the worn fabric settling against my skin. Maybe I should go home. Move back to Cookeville. Far away from all this bullshit with King.

  Far away from Gypsy.

  The thought sits heavy in my stomach.

  I ignore the sensation, pulling on a pair of leggings and shoving my feet into flip flops.