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“What—?” I start, and stop, because... What are you trying to do? Why are you being nice to me? “What do you want?”
Angry heat descends into his eyes. “No idea what you mean.”
“Yeah?” I’m confused, and I don’t like it. “Angling for a free fuck, are you?”
His face pales, and I bite the inside of my cheek, pissed as hell and annoyed at myself, too. Not sure why my mouth insists on running its own agenda every damn time he’s around. He pushes all my buttons, even some I wasn’t aware of.
“Know what?” He starts getting up, his face red. “I’m going to work. Give me back my jacket.”
I shrug it off, throw it on the table. I shiver at the loss of warmth. His scent clings to me. “All yours.”
“Yeah, it is.” He grabs the jacket and stands up, those pretty eyes shooting daggers at me.
Ow, baby. “You still haven’t told me when and where.”
“Say what?” He blinks, and I prop my chin on my hand, giving him my best smirk.
“Ain’t that what you wanted? Business. Well, this is my business card.” I lick my lips and almost laugh when his gaze zeroes in instantly. “When and where? I could do you now, if you take another half hour off.”
He blinks again. Then his gaze narrows. “I thought,” he mutters low, leaning over the table, “that you don’t do freebies, or even discounts.”
“This ain’t a freebie,” I scoff. “It’s payment. For this.” I wave with my other hand at the empty plates and mugs. At the damn jacket. The damn coffee shop.
“And you thought I’d ask for sex in exchange for two sandwiches and a cup of coffee?”
I wanna shrug, but I make myself keep still. How much does he think I make, anyway? And besides that, it wasn’t just the sandwiches or the coffee. Above all, it was him dragging me inside, putting his jacket around me, asking me if I felt better, asking…
Fuck, no. Not doing this. Not thinking this. This is the kind of bullshit that can fuck a guy’s head up.
“I don’t have cash on me to pay for this,” I reply neutrally, holding his hot gaze. “And nothing comes for free.”
“Well, this breakfast does. It was free on my side. You can keep the change.”
Turning on his heel, he walks out, and I can’t help but notice that he has a tight, damn sexy ass.
Not that I hadn’t noticed before. There are some things you just can’t avoid noticing.
“What you said doesn’t even make sense,” I mutter after him, long after he’s gone.
None of this makes any sense.
Swallowing hard, I stare at the closed door, the voices around me mingling into a mindless hum. White noise.
And the damn lump in my throat is back. Dammit.
What’s wrong with me these days?
Chapter Five
Raine
On some days, my life’s all right. Quiet, slow like a river. No drama, no stress. Work and lunch and then more work and a relaxing evening at home, zoning out in front of the TV with a beer, or at the bar with the guys.
And on some other days, it all goes to shit.
I just found out that we’re organizing the official opening of Collateral Damage. Soul Stain, the tattoo shop in Chicago we sometimes collaborate with, are sending their artists to visit. And I’m in charge of setting it all up. Never done anything like this before. What if I make a mess of it?
By early afternoon, I get a reminder text from a guy I met the other night at a bar about going out. Apparently, I promised him a dinner tonight. Huh.
