I give his shoulder a friendly rub. “Don’t worry about me, Warner.”

He shrugs. “He’s a good-looking guy. Sounds nice enough. Could trip up anyone.”

“You want me to set you two up, don’t you? Forget me. Maybe my big brother can get in close with him and crack this case.”

“Alright . . .” The tension in the room vanishes instantly as he tosses his empty can into the kitchen sink. “Get some sleep, wise-ass.” He ducks out of my condo, a little more quickly than usual.

Warner’s words of warning linger in the back of my mind long after I crawl into bed, Stanley snoring by my side. My bedroom blinds are drawn open, eyes locked on the condo directly across from me.

My heart rate spikes when Luke strolls out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, his sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his waist, the ridges in his stomach hard and defined, even from this distance. Grabbing a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with water from the fridge tap. I guess he worked up a thirst.

My thoughts are laced with bitterness, but that doesn’t stop me from moving. Before I realize it, I’m out of bed and standing a few feet away from the glass, admiring him as he sucks back a glass, and then another. Setting the glass down on the counter, he stares at it for a long moment. And then his attention suddenly shifts out the window.

To me.

Can he see me? No, there’s no way—my room is in complete darkness, my pajamas are black. He doesn’t wave, he doesn’t smile, he does nothing but stare, his hands dangling beside his hips, a look of disquiet on his face.

He’s riveted.

Then his head snaps toward the bedroom, as if someone has called him. I’ll bet she did.

On his way back, he hits the wall panel, casting the space into darkness, closing the remaining blinds. And an unpleasant feeling begins coursing through my body, keeping me company until I finally drift off.

Licks wants to know if you’d like to go to the park.

Well, my target’s up early today. He’s normally not up until noon on Sundays. Maybe she made him breakfast. Maybe they did it again before she made him breakfast. Does that kind of girl even know how to fry an egg?

I toss my phone onto the counter and rifle through my thoughts, searching for my rational ones, as I down my orange juice. A night of sleep always clears my head. Helps me think more logically. I’m a logical thinker. No room for emotions in this job.

So, I’ll admit that I’m attracted to my target. He’s a nice guy. He’s good-looking, he’s charming, and I’m playing a role where I need to attract him. It only makes sense that my human instincts will get a little scrambled. As long as I keep my head, I’ll be fine.

It’s actually a good thing that he brought that whore over. If she’s giving him what I can’t, then maybe he’ll be more apt to play the waiting game with me. All I have to do is act normal and keep charming him. No problem.

A second beep.

Licks wants you to bring Stanley, too.

Not a bad idea. Maybe Stanley will do me a favor and bite Luke again.

I take another minute to chew my thumbnail nervously, and then I punch out a return message.

Stanley will oblige. Meet us at his favorite park bench in an hour and bring your throwing arm.

See you then.

An hour. That barely gives my cover team time to get in place. I’m definitely keeping Warner and the boys busy lately, after weeks of nothing. It’s silly, really, that they have to be there during even the most minor of meetings.

Warner answers the phone with a groan.

“Ready for another glamorous day sitting in your car and making sure I don’t fall in love with my target?”

He swears under his breath.

Chapter 19

LUKE

I slow to a stop, my heart rate pounding as hard and fast as my feet just were against the pavement.

And I admire Rain, sitting on the bench with the row of cherry trees blooming behind her. Teasing Stanley, who paws the air in front of her, begging for the ball with those bulging eyes of his. It’s a rare sunny day, the rays making her chestnut hair look almost red. Even though her exterior appearance—her expensive clothes, the perfect makeup—matches that of Priscilla, Rain is beautiful in a more confident and sophisticated way than Priscilla, or any other woman I’ve ever been with.

I realized that last night, with Priscilla splayed out on my bed, waiting for me to climb on top of her. When I first met that woman, she was only telling me what she thought I wanted to hear. Once I got to know her and she opened up, I knew that she would never be someone who would truly care about me beyond our superficial friendship. But I didn’t care, either. We both got what we wanted out of each other without a headache or guilt.

Until now.

Today, I woke up—way too early—with a weight settled on my chest. One that wouldn’t let me fall back asleep. One that I needed to resolve right away.

I don’t do well with guilt.

My moment to admire Rain doesn’t last. The second Stanley spots me, he abandons his owner, tearing down the path, those offset eyes on Licks. I’m ready for him this time, though, grabbing his stout little body before he goes for Licks’s legs.

I laugh as he squirms. “Why so angry, buddy?” He answers with a round of snorts as he playfully nips at my hand. Crouching down, I hold him at nose level with Licks, who just sits there, looking apathetic. “You guys need to learn how to be friends. You’ll be seeing more of each other.” I hope.

The sound of slow, even heels pulls my attention up. Rain is taking her time coming over, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her skintight jeans only accentuate the fact that she has perfectly toned thighs. A cropped black leather jacket hugs her upper body, the gold from her dragonfly necklace jumping out against it. Hell, she’s fucking hot.




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