ROMANCE: Mason (Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance Boxset) (New Adult Contemporary Stepbrother Romance Collection) (129 page)

              “I liked…serving my country, but I didn’t always like…what had to be done.” 

              Taylor nodded.  In her own way she understood exactly what he meant. 

              They were almost to the edge of the trees that lined Taylor’s back yard when a scent wafted, strong and pungent, into Namir’s nostrils.  He reached his arm forward and pulled Taylor back.

              “Hey!”  She hissed.

              “Quiet.”  He ordered.  He closed his eyes and pulled air in through his mouth and nose, allowing his tongue to touch the night air.  There it was again.  Excitement.  Fear.  He could taste the emotions.  He could smell them.  But he couldn’t tell Taylor that.  How would explain it?  None of that mattered.  The only thing that was important in that moment was that there was someone in the back yard. 

              Taylor squinted through the trees trying to see why Namir had stopped her.  The light was almost gone and the crescent moon gave little light.

              “Stay right here.”  Namir whispered and pushed her into a squatting position.  He took off his shoes and socks before moving silently into the yard. 

              Taylor couldn’t hear him as he trotted away, but she seemed to hear everything else.  A stick snapped somewhere to her right.  With wide eyes she turned her head to try and see what had caused the noise. 

              Namir crouched low and moved steadily towards the back of the house.  There was a bulky shape sitting on one of the patio tables.  He approached more slowly and breathed the air in even slower.  Roses.  He turned his head from one side to the other trying to pin point which direction the person had gone who had left the roses.  A faint smell came to his right and he followed it into the tree line.  He took several tentative steps before stopping to smell again.  He tried several more times, adjusting his body angle each time, but it was no good.  The trail had simply vanished. 

              Taylor nearly screamed when Namir came to her side and touched her shoulder gently.  He grabbed his shoes and socks, and took her by the hand.  Once they were back inside the house he went into the kitchen and cut off all the lights. 

              “What in the hell is that man doing?”  Constantine demanded.  “And why is he not wearing shoes and socks?”

              Taylor shook her head, but didn’t respond.  She knew something had been very wrong.  That it was still wrong.  Greta had left the kitchen as soon as the silent Namir had entered and cut the lights off.  She watched with her arms around her waist, as he stood stock still, just staring out of the glass doors.

              When Namir was satisfied he unlocked the door by its brass dead bolt and stepped outside.  He picked up the vase of flowers and brought them in to the kitchen table.  Taylor cut the light on and stared at a vase of two dozen fully bloomed pink roses.  Namir looked at her sharply as he pulled out a pink envelope that was nestled within the greenery and roses.  With caution he opened the envelope and pulled out a card.  It was child’s card with a cartoon kitten holding a red balloon.  The greeting said, “Because you’re so special”.  He opened the card and a picture of Taylor fell out.  It was a fuzzy shot of her walking out of her front door.  Written in red sharpie on the inside of the card were the words, “I see you”. 

              Taylor looked up at Namir with huge tear rimmed eyes.  Her voice shook as she spoke.  “Do whatever needs to be done here.  I won’t complain…I promise.” 

              Namir nodded thinking that she looked just like a frightened child.

              A figure dropped to the ground from the thick tree limb he had been perched on.  He landing with grace directly in the spot his scent had ended for Namir.  He allowed his eyes to slowly scan the woods, his ears on high alert.  The only sounds were animals scurrying about, and bugs calling to each other.  He frowned and took a step towards the tree line.  He could see light flooding the back patio.  The flowers were gone.  He indulged in a small smile over that, but it didn’t soothe the emotions that were caused by the realization that Taylor’s new bodyguard was a Werewolf.  

“Have you given any interviews where you stated that your favorite color is pink and your favorite flower is the rose?” 

              Taylor shook her head.

              “What about new friends on Facebook or Twitter?”

              Taylor looked at the policeman as if he were the dumbest person on earth. 

              “I have over a hundred and eighty thousand Twitter followers.  I have over a hundred thousand on Facebook.  I don’t even manage those accounts!” 

              “So, who does?”

              “My manager Jason.” 

              The policeman, Officer James, flipped his notebook shut.  “I would advise you shut those accounts down.”

              Taylor nodded her consent, but Constantine flew off of her seat like a startled bird.  “Absolutely not!  She needs those accounts for her fans!  It keeps her in the public eye!”

              Namir bristled.  “She’ll close the accounts.”  His eyes met Constantine’s, and he silently dared her to speak again.  A strange look came over her face, and she sat without another word. 

              A crime scene technician came into the living room, shaking her head.  “Whomever it was took precautions.  I can’t get even a partial print.”

              “We have photographs, but I would advise that you keep the vase and note.”  Officer James instructed Taylor.  “We would also advise you to limit how many new people are allowed in or around your house.”  The officer stared straight at Namir. 

              Once the police had gone, Taylor sat at the dining room table chewing on her finger nails. 

              “For God’s sake stop that, Taylor!”  Constantine said and pulled Taylor’s hand from her lips.  She threw her hand down in disgust.  “Now we’ll have to go to Mimi’s for manicures.”

              “You weren’t biting your nails.”  Taylor responded with far less gusto than she would have liked.

              Constantine left the room in a huff.  Namir sat at the table with Taylor, thanking Greta as she laid his leftovers in front of him. 

              “I think your idea of a dog is a good.”

              “I just wanted to rile my mother.”  She responded weakly.  “She hates animals.” 

              Namir stuck a piece of steak in his mouth and talked around it.  “It’s still a good idea.” 

              “That’s disgusting.”  Taylor said with a grimace. 

              “Eating meat?”

              “No talking with your mouth full.” 

              Namir swallowed.  “I thought it was the meat.”  He said with a shrug.  “Since you seem to really like to eat…well…nothing.” 

              “I have to stay thin!”  She said with more bitterness than she intended.  

              Namir studied her, bouncing his fork lightly over his plate.  She was thin, but not the rail thin flat look that most super models had.  She was curvy and just over 5’5”, making her short for a model.  He’d only known her for a day and a half, but he felt like she was an unhappy woman.  It was almost like she was still a kid. 

              “Tell you what,” Namir said, and pushed his plate away.  “Let’s go out for a little bit.”

              “What?  Why?” 

              He stood and took his dishes to the kitchen, feeling a little guilty for wasting what was left.  Greta took the plate, but didn’t scold.  When he came back, Taylor was standing by the table fretting with the hem of her sweater. 

              “Ready?” 

              “I have a car in the garage.”  She said.  Her body language told Namir that there was something more to it.  She turned one foot in and actually looked away, her brow slightly puckered. 

              “Alright.  Is there something wrong with the car?”

              Her eyes widened.  “No!  It’s a perfectly fine car, an Audi to be exact!” 

              “Ok…”  Namir was at a loss.

              Taylor rubbed her jaw, her voice low.  “I can’t…drive.”

              Namir’s head moved backwards slightly.  “Oh.  Well, I can.”  He held out his hand.  “Can I have the keys?”

              Taylor raced out of the room and up the stairs, taking them two at a time.  She returned with a little purse that looked like a denim backpack.  She handed him the keys. 

              Florescent lights lit up one by one.  As each one came to life in an orderly fashion, Namir’s wonder increased.  He saw a black two door Audi TT, which caused his salivary glands to engage.  The other car was a sleek burgundy Lincoln MKZ.  Namir knew cars, and he loved them.  He placed a hand on his buzzed head and blew air from his puffed out cheeks. 

              “Which one is yours?”

              “The Audi…I already told you that.” 

              “Oh yeah.”  He said, still feeling dazed.  

              The car still had its new car smell.  The interior was black leather.  Taylor must have paid a mint for all of the extras the car had.  He couldn’t resist asking. 

              “Why do you have a car if you can’t drive?”

              “I just wanted it.  I had planned on getting my license, but I was just so busy.  Mother thinks that we should just have a driver take us places.  Of course she didn’t hesitate to get a new car as soon as I got one.  She can drive, of course.”

              Namir reached up and hit the button for the automatic garage opener, and started the car.  It roared to life then hummed.  It was a beautiful sound.  The radio began blaring dup-step.  He turned it down a few notches. 

              “Skrillex, huh?”

              “It’s impressive that you know that.”  Taylor said.  “I come out here sometimes and just listen to music.  Mother hates what I listen to, so she usually leaves me alone.” 

              Taylor’s cell phone began chirping.  She frowned and swiped her finger across the screen, throwing it into her bag.

              “Constantine?”

              “You know it.  Quick!  Let’s go before she comes out here!”  She giggled. 

              Namir grinned and put the car in drive.  He wasn’t sure if he could find what he was looking for, but having a chance to drive that car was well worth it the trip. 

              An hour later, they pulled into a shopping center that was still lit up and shoppers were wandering in and out of stores.  Namir spotted what he was looking for at the end of the center: an ice cream shop. 

              The drive there had been almost entirely silent.  Each one in their own world, listening to music and just enjoying being out. 

              “What are we doing here?”  Taylor asked with some concern. 

              Namir cut the engine and turned slightly in the seat, an arm resting on the door.  The lights from the shopping center only illuminated part of Taylor’s face.  She didn’t have any makeup on, and Namir realized that she was a true natural beauty. 

              “We’re going to have ice cream.”

              Taylor’s eyes widened with desire and fear.  She looked at the brightly colored building, then back at him.  “I can’t.” 

              “Why?”

              “My weight…it would just mess everything up.  My mother and Jason…”

              “Aren’t here.  When was the last time you did something just for you, that wasn’t just a way to make someone irritated?”

              Taylor looked at him blankly.  Her long lashed eye lids closed, then reopened in a slow blink.  “I can’t remember.”

              “Do you like ice cream?”

              “Yes.  I haven’t had any in over a year.”

              Namir smiled sadly.  “Then it’s about time you had some.”  He got out of the car and walked to her side.  She was looking out of the window and had her hand on the interior door handle, but still hadn’t gotten out.  Namir opened the door for her, holding out his hand.  She took it and stepped out of the car. 

              Once they had ordered, they chose to sit at an outside table towards the side of the building.  A few people looked her way, as if they recognized her, but no one approached.  A tiny amusement park was across the street, and occasionally a delighted scream could be heard coming from the Ferris wheel.   

              Taylor ate her plain scoop of vanilla ice cream while eyeing every bite of Namir’s banana split with envy.  He finally laughed out loud. 

              “Here, have a bite.”  He said, and pushed the paper boat towards her. 

              Taylor hesitated then dug her spoon into the decadent concoction.  She placed the bite in her mouth and Namir was sure she would swoon. 

              “I’ve never had pineapple topping.”  She said and dug her spoon back in for another bite.

              Namir watched her amusedly.  “You should live a little more.”