“Friday night—you know it,” Brett said, jingling his keys around his finger. “You ready?” he asked Nolan.
“Yeah,” Nolan said before waving. “I’ll probably see you tomorrow too.”
“I hope so. Bring your thirsty friends, especially the big tippers.” I winked, waving them toward the door.
That’s when I realized Kai wasn’t moving. He was still on his stool, beer gone, eyes on me.
I frowned, setting down the rag. “I have to count the money, so I kind of need to lock up.”
“Yeah, no problem. Want me to lock the door?”
“The bar has to be empty when I lock up. They have cameras.” I pointed to the dome mounted on the ceiling.
“Oh. Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” He shifted, standing now, casual but steady. “I could wait outside until you finish, if you’d like. Because I’d like to.” His gaze was direct, his voice even. “To continue the conversation, I mean. I enjoyed talking to you earlier, but you got so busy we didn’t get much chance. I’d like to pick up where we left off.”
I gave him a look, one brow arched.Was that a reference to the nearly forgotten one-night stand?“Where do you suggest we pick up where we left off? In the parking lot? Just trying to figure out what you’re asking me to sign up for.”
His smile was crooked, disarming. “We could go to my place, have a beer on the patio.”
A flashback: naked in the moonlight, rumrunners still burning my veins. The sting of him not remembering was still fresh. Did it matter whether he was thinking about it too? I was.
Red flags flashed like neon. My brain waved them furiously. But apparently my progress inrecognizingred flags hadn’t yet translated intoavoidingthem. Baby steps.
I wasn’t repeating the same mistake, I rationalized. This time, I was sober. This time, I could at least pretend it was just a casual beer, not a setup for history repeating. Since he still seemed to have no memory of our hookup, it was easier to play along.
Besides… I’d enjoyed our chat. And maybe it wouldn’t kill me to have an actual friend in Smugglers Cove.
“Sure,” I said finally, surprising myself as much as him. “Give me ten minutes.”
CHAPTER 5
KAI
With the painting tucked under my arm, I hustled around to the passenger side of the Uber to yank the door open for Jasmine. She gave me a curious look that hovered somewhere between impressed and annoyed—I couldn’t tell which. Story of my life. Women were an enigma, every look layered with meanings I’d never decode. I didn’t bother trying to unravel them anymore; I stuck to what I could see—she was coming back to my place with me. That much was certain, and it was all the clarity I needed. At least I had the chance to know her better.
By the time I twisted the key in the lock of my apartment, my brain reminded me that the dogs weren’t here. “My brother has our labs, Fisher and King, at his place,” I said as the deadbolt clicked. “So you won’t be mauled with kisses.”
“I like doggy kisses,” she said as she stepped over the threshold, the words warm and unguarded.
Of course she did. Just add that to the list of reasons I thought she was awesome. “Next time.”
I dropped the painting into the chair just inside the door, reaching around her to flick on the lights. My hand was halfway to her waist, already imagining the brush of contact, when my entire body seized. My heart tried to crawl out of my throat. The air itself seemed to snap, every hair on my arms standing on end. Something was wrong—bone-deep wrong.
A man was sitting on my couch.
Big. Silent. A gun resting easy across his thick thigh, finger coiled on the trigger like it lived there. The barrel gleamed dully in the low light, and the smell hit me—a faint tang of sweat that turned my stomach.
My body reacted before my brain could. I shoved Jasmine behind me so hard she stumbled. “Who the fuck are you?” I barked, my voice louder than I expected, rough with the kind of fear that pretends to be fury. My throat was raw, my chest tight. If I stopped sounding angry, I’d sound terrified.
But before I could take another step, Jasmine shrieked—high and terrified—and was ripped away from me. I spun to see another man, even bigger, materializing from the shadows like a nightmare. One massive hand clamped over her mouth. The other pressed a gun to her temple. Her muffled cry froze my blood. I saw the whites of her eyes, wide, wet, locked on mine. The fear in those green eyes broke me.
Rage boiled up so fast I nearly choked on it. Despite the terror clawing my ribs, all I could think was: he’s touching the lips I’ve been imagining kissing all damn night. How dare he.
I lunged at him, chest heaving, fists clenched. “Take that gun away from her head, right fucking now.” My voice broke like a whip.
The bearded goon—biceps stretching black sleeves, tactical cargo pants stuffed with God knows what—only smirked. His beady eyes full of confidence said he’d done this before, too many times, and it had always ended his way.
Behind him, the man on my couch let out a laugh so dry it chilled my bones. “Tell us where the coke is, right fucking now.”
