The dumb ones ended up at the bottom of the Hudson.
But in Darkwater Hollow, Sandro and I operate by the book. No intimidation. No racketeering.
Nothing that might bring any unwanted attention onto us.
No wonder I’ve been so fucking bored.
Not anymore though.
I sit up on the couch with a yawn and run my fingers through my hair. The alarm starts blasting again before I shut it off for good.
At least it hasn’t woken Blake up. As I pass by the bedroom on my way to the guest bathroom, I don’t hear a sound on the other side of the door.
She looked dead on her feet before she went to bed last night. She barely even argued with me when I told her to take my bedroom. The thought of her lying in my bed, in my T-shirt, fills me with satisfaction.
How would she react if I climbed in beside her, dragged her thighs apart, and tasted her until she came apart on my tongue?
I drag a palm over my face. Yeah, we’ve got a long way to go before that happens.
If she thought I was one hundred percent Satan when I first moved in, I’ve probably managed to get that down to seventy-five percent when I convinced her to fake date me.
Maybe even fifty percent after telling her I’ll fix her house.
I have a feeling I’ll have to get it all the way into the tens for her to even consider sleeping with me.
But this whole fake dating idea is brilliant. Sometimes I surprise myself. Now, I have an excuse to take her out on dates and treat her better than that prick ever did. And she’s on the hook for going along with it.
We’ll pretend for a while, but in the meantime, I’ll be wearing her down. Bit by bit, every day. She won’t be able to deny me forever. There’s no woman who’d be able to withstand my charms in this situation. Not a single one. I’ve already won, Blake just doesn’t know it yet.
And when she finally gives in, the real fun will begin. I’ll fuck her so well she’ll want to write a damn book about it so that she can revisit the memories. We’ll get each other out of our systems, I’ll fix up her house, and she’ll go on her merry way.
And then everything will go back to the way it was before.
The way it was before.
Which…sucked.
I frown. I don’t need to think about what happens afterward. That’s a problem for another day.
I run the water and start brushing my teeth. Sandro’s not going to be happy when I ask him to start working on her house along with the other projects we’ve got on our plate. But he’s the one who’s been up my ass about my reputation. He should be pleased I’m doing something about it, right?
My appointment is in Cedar Springs, a neighborhood about a thirty-minute drive from the house. I turn on the radio and start running through the agenda in my head.
A siren cuts through my train of thought. My eyes narrow at the reflection in the rearview mirror.
A cop car.
“What the fuck?” I’m not over the speed limit.
I do what any respectable citizen—aka not a gangster in hiding—would do and pull over.
The cop pulls up behind me.
A guy about the same age as me gets out of the car. He has slicked-back hair and a pair of aviators hooked on his crooked nose. He motions for me to roll down the window, one hand on his gun for no apparent reason.
“License and registration.”
I prop my elbow on the edge of the window. “What’s the problem, Officer?”
