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“Do you mind?”
I don’t wait for a response. I slide into the booth across from her, quickly gripping the gun from my belt and resting it on my knee beneath the table. This is Lilah Hart, after all. Luckily, she doesn’t seem to notice my precaution.
She sighs. “What do you want now?”
“I saw a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. Figured I’d make the most of it.”
“How did you know I was here?”
I take a swig from my bottle. “I didn’t.”
“You just happened to stumble on me in some shitty hotel bar in St. Louis?”
“Weird, isn’t it?”
She chuckles to herself before sliding her wineglass closer. “I guess that’s what we’ll call it.”
I move as she does, raising my drink and we both take a sip. I let the cold liquid settle on my tongue to chill my nerves.
Fucking gorgeous…
“What brings you all the way out here?” she asks. “Tracking a bail jumper?”
“Not exactly. I’m on vacation.”
Her nose curls. “In St. Louis?”
“I’ve got a thing for very tall, arch-like structures,” I quip. “Also, there’s a rather intriguing underground fighting tournament somewhere nearby. The Midwest Alphas. You heard of them?”
“Oddly, yes,” she answers. “I have.”
“It should be some decent fun if you’d like to tag along.”
She scoops her phone off the table and swipes it on. “No, thanks.”
Dig deeper…
“Where’s your twin tonight?” I ask.
“I don’t know.”
“Aren’t you usually attached at the hip?”
“Usually.”
“Trouble on the home front?”
“Archer…” She sets her phone down again. “I don’t want to talk about my family.”
Jackpot. Her tone is solid. There’s a hint of sadness in her eyes. She’s not here on some mission. She’s here for an escape... and she’s dressed to impress.
Getting her alone won’t be as hard as I thought it’d be.
I throw on a charming smile. “What would you like to talk about?”
“With you? Nothing.”
“That’s a shame, love. I’m quite fond of a decent battle of wits.”
