A Chapter 19 Outtake
The Grease Monkey and the Hedgehog
Pete watches Lottie smile shyly back at Edward's girl as he sits back to take a sip of his coffee. He watches the girls carry on their conversation, something about the scrub brush blooming across the road.
Lottie covers her mouth as she laughs and Pete's lips curve in response.
When he'd stumbled upon the curvaceous feline working the bar at The Pit, he had tried for three long weeks before he'd hit on a Lottie approved reason to smile. He was fascinated by her ballsy, don't-give-a-shit attitude. She was like working on an engine, puzzling out all the pieces that worked intricately to make the whole thing purr. He smiled wickedly to himself. He loved to make his Lottie purr.
Bella stands to gather the trash on the table and takes the pile away. Pete watches Lottie track her friend. He knows Lottie thinks it's a character flaw; caring makes you vulnerable. Lottie would never let herself be exposed and weak—except with him, Pete thought with pride.
He grins as Lottie sits up straighter as Bella moves to return. He's never seen her as infatuated with a girl as she is with Bella. Lottie's his little hedgehog, usually so puffed up and bristly. He loves that she yields to his touch, allowing him, alone, to know her tender vulnerable places. Her sleepy, satisfied smile as she's spread across their bed back home lingers lazily in his mind. It's the greatest treasure of his life—her trust.
Lottie molds her luscious curves along his side, drawing him back to the moment. "We're going to take some shots of the field across the road," she says as she runs her open mouth along his neck letting a warm, wet kiss linger on the black star.
She loves that tattoo.
He nods and runs his fingers under her bra strap before she stands with Bella. Bella gives him a shy wave.
Heads turn as the girls walk past the tent city to grab Lottie's gear and head across the road. He watches a couple of men nudge each other as Lottie passes.
This is not new to him. Lottie is full-on curves—a walking, talking, pin-up girl with a "go to hell" attitude. There's a type of guy that finds her a challenge, something to conquer to boost his ego—a hunting trophy.
He takes a good look at the men, marking them, but leans to grab his coffee. Lottie can and will handle her own shit. She would have a vice grip on his nuts if he went cave man on the two creeps. He smiles as he takes a sip, not entirely adverse to the idea.
His attention shifts to the diminutive beauty working to keep pace with Lottie. He hadn't seen Edward in two years. Mac told him how different Edward was with this bird—and man, was he ever. Edward was always friends with girls first, never wading in too deep beyond his built-in chivalrous code.
Bella was something other. For such a tiny thing, she had an undeniable presence that soothed a room. He liked Bella for the gentle way she brought about dramatic changes in his friend and his girl.
He had watched her tenacity to be his girl's friend and was fascinated by Lottie's response. It echoed of his determination in the beginning.
He was immensely grateful he'd made the cut, and he'd fight tooth and nail to stay by her side, to be worthy in her eyes. He was Lottie's man. It was the greatest single accomplishment of his life.
With the girls out of view, Pete drained his cup and tossed it in the trash as he headed out to find Mac and that little guy with the sick hook shot.