Free MakeMeShiver by Aline Hunter Page A

kitchen. “I want you to get your things and go home. I’m not sure what you said to Lacey but I can only imagine how bad this looks.”
    “I swear I didn’t say anything to her.” From the nearness of her voice, he knew she was following him.
    He stopped, pivoted, and almost bumped into her. He knew he was moments away from losing his temper. He’d found what he wanted only to have it ripped away by a woman who didn’t mean any harm but caused it just the same.
    “You didn’t have to say anything.” At Aly’s questioning look he exhaled raggedly. “She’s not into the lifestyle. So just by showing up here, in my home, referring to me as Master…” He drew a deep breath, striving for calm, when he saw Aly’s face pale.
    “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t know.”
    “I know you didn’t but that doesn’t make the situation any better. You need to leave. I’ll call you after I’ve spoken to Trevor.”
    Drawing her lip between her teeth, Aly nodded as if pained and turned to leave. Michael promptly did the same.
    First he had to figure out where in the hell Lacey was, which meant calling the shop. Hopefully she was with Jacob and he would be able to explain. If not, he’d have to do something he was never very good at—groveling.
    As he pulled his cell from his pocket, his palms went clammy.
    So much for romantic dreams of grandeur.
    This had just become a cluster-fuck of epic proportions.
    * * * * *
     
    Lacey pounded on Candice’s door, taking out her frustrations on the cheap, unyielding wood. Getting here had been harder than she thought. Jacob had flat-out refused to take her anywhere until Michael returned, so she’d been forced to present a fake smile as she’d left the shop and started walking in the direction of town.
    Thank God for eighty-year-old Mr. Turner and his high-school-sweetheart-turned-wife, Ester. Their weekly visit to the grocery store saved her from bumping into Michael along the way. Not that they had the good fortune of avoiding him entirely. When they’d hit the highway Mike had sped by with her Toyota on the back of his truck. She’d shrunk into a ball in the backseat, hoping like hell he didn’t take a close look into the car. Despite how shitty the situation was, having a confrontation with Michael in front of an elderly couple who still held hands and kissed like teens would have made things much worse.
    “Hang on a minute! I’m coming!” Candice yelled through the door. The metallic snick of the chain lock sliding free echoed in time with the click of the dead-bolt turning over. The door cracked open and Candice peered out. “Lacey?” Candice fiddled with the lapels of her robe, her messy blonde hair and puffy eyes a clear indication she’d been sound asleep. “What are you doing here?”
    “I’m not telling you anything until I have a cup of coffee.”
    Lacey stepped past her friend into the apartment, deposited her purse on the couch and stomped toward the kitchen. She’d stayed over after many a night spent out on the town with Candy so she was familiar with the layout of the apartment. She retrieved the canister with the coffee, pulled down a filter and walked to the machine. Candice entered the kitchen and put a hand out to stop her when she reached for the pot handle.
    “What’s going on?”
    How could she possibly answer that question? Candice had told her this would happen. She’d said entering into a relationship with Michael Gilchrist was just asking for trouble. Damn it, her best friend had repeatedly warned her that all men were exactly the same, over and over again.
    Why the hell didn’t she listen?
    “I did something really stupid, Candy.” She placed her hands on the counter, lowering her head. “Something really damn stupid.”
    “You finally bumped uglies with Scott?” Candice grimaced, her lack of approval apparent. She’d never cared for Scott, finding him too conceited, arrogant and metrosexual for her taste.
    Lacey