Lyra attempted to bury all thoughts of the sexy super as she entered the building. She’d gotten Prentiss and Alyssa to school as close to eight thirty as possible. All right, it had been eight forty, but she rarely made the eight to eight thirty window for drop off. Who could blame her? With Alyssa chattering away and Prentiss working on deciphering some engineering problem that would be advanced for a ten-year-old, much less her four years, the mornings didn’t exactly move along like one of Prentiss’s clocks.

And Lyra was no morning person. She thrived on working late into the night. Not something that was conducive to raising twins on your own.

This morning, the girls had run their suggested names for Luke’s superhero identity past her. She had managed to keep a straight face to Muscle Man, but had a harder time with Rough Tough Guy and Truck Man. The girls had been solemn-faced as they explained the name was supposed to be based on what the person was. They’d taken that literally.

“I’m a truck?” Luke had looked truly puzzled, and she had to admit, that was cute as sin. The way he was with her girls was more than a little endearing, but it was also a temptation she didn’t need. She didn’t need to start fantasizing about a father for the girls.

“No, silly.” This came from Prentiss, which surprised Lyra. She seemed to like talking to Luke. She wasn’t afraid to push her way into a conversation, even if it was being dominated by Alyssa, so long as Luke was involved. “You’re as big as a truck. But Big-as-a-Truck Man is a mouthful.” This last was accompanied by an eye roll that was beyond adorable, but Prentiss wouldn’t appreciate hearing that, so Lyra bit down on her lip.

Prentiss told him not to worry. That they were just “pot boiling.” Lyra had corrected that to “spit balling” and Prentiss promised they’d get back to him when they had more.

Luke had done that thing where he tilted his head back and laughed, and Lyra couldn’t help but smile at the memory. She slid her key in her lock now, then jumped a mile at the sound of a deep, smooth voice behind her. No part of her pounding heart processed it was Luke and that the words he’d uttered were offering her coffee—otherwise known in her world as Sustenance of the Gods—as she spun.

The look he gave her was one of wry amusement. “Jumpy much?”

“You scared the crap out of me. I didn’t even hear your door open.”

He grinned and looked back at the offending door before turning back to her with a lazy shrug. “It did.” He raised his mug. “Coffee?”

Lyra glanced at her phone screen, hedging. “I need to get started on work. I’m running late.”

He turned and walked into his place, waving her in with one hand. “You can take it with you and return the mug later.”

She padded after him and glanced around at the neat room. It was nothing like it had been just a week before. Not that she went into her superintendent’s apartment. Living across the hall, though, she had easily seen the sloppy quarters of the permanent tenant. Luke, on the other hand, had the place scrubbed and tucked away, or however it was that you’d say that in the military. She was sure there must be a term for it.

The furniture and stuff was all the same, of course. But he’d put things away and had only the bare minimum of things around on shelves and desk or table space. A slim laptop sat with its top shut on the built-in desk in the corner and the kitchen table held only a roll of paper towels in its center.

“What is it?” Luke asked following her gaze around the room as he poured her coffee.

“It’s just so much neater than Kyle kept it.”

“I like things neat.” He held up the mug. “Cream or sugar?”

She scowled at him. “Don’t you dare taint its efficacy with crap like that.”

That brought a chuckle from him and she made a mental note not to make him laugh or smile. The man was gorgeous without that, but add in the lightness of a laugh and his face did things it shouldn’t be allowed to do.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She damned near spilled the liquid as he handed it to her. There was a silken tone to his voice and she’d swear he’d just taken it an octave lower, the hint of a promise in his response.

Lyra sucked in a deep breath and turned to the door. She needed to get the hell out before it was too late. “Thank you,” she said as she all but bolted.

“So, what do you do?”

Really? He was really making small talk as she was trying to run for the door. She turned back, keeping half her traitorous body in the doorway. “I, uh, I work for a company that designs phone apps and computer software specific to client needs and marketplace demands.”

He laughed, and for some reason her mind spiraled off into a crazed fantasy that involved a lot of licking and nibbling. Where the hell had that come from?

“You sound like a walking marketing brochure.” His tone was light and easy as he lifted his cup to his mouth, but his eyes held her, pinned in place.

She shrugged. “Sorry. My boss has drilled that one into all of us. I think he took a course on elevator pitches and he sort of locked in on the concept.”

“It isn’t a bad one.”

As he relaxed, leaning a hip on the couch that took up a large portion of the small living space, she relaxed as well. “No, it’s really not. I’ve just worked for this company a little too long, I guess.”

That was putting it mildly. She’d put up with a boss who knew far less than anyone working for him, but somehow he’d managed to start his company and keep it running well enough to get away with a surprising level of ignorance about their work. She knew he had his father’s money backing him and she’d never quite been able to muster up respect for him.

“You don’t like it?” She got the sense he truly cared about the response and she felt a little bad for trying to run out with his coffee without even an attempt at conversation.

“I like the work, just not working for someone else. I won’t be there much longer, though. If I hang in another month or so, I’ll be golden.” She glanced at her phone as an incoming text sounded. “Speaking of working for someone else, I’ve got to run. Thank you for the coffee,” she said and turned to flee, guilt be damned.

The coffee was really entirely too good, and she didn’t actually have to start work just yet. Truth be told, the text she’d gotten was from Tracy asking if she’d had any more contact with her sexy neighbor.

Since she’d found herself ready to pour out her plans for economic independence to her new neighbor, she’d decided to take advantage of the excuse to clear out of there. The last thing she needed was to be sucked into a guy who somehow made idle chit chat over coffee feel like the hottest date she’d had in a damned long time.

* * *

Luke watched Lyra as she shut the door between them. He hated that she’d lit up when she talked about being able to leave her job soon. He’d been thinking he could clear her and start working on finding the real person behind the online group, but the light in her eyes when she talked about being able to leave her current job needled at him. Could she really be the one behind this group?

She sure as hell had the technical know-how to get the job done, didn’t she? She worked with computers. She built apps. It would be a piece of cake for her to set up a chat room like this one, and her innocent single mom thing would lure people in. Anyone would feel comfortable talking to her.

His mind went to the people in the chat room, in particular the ones he’d pegged as false identities that might really be their perpetrators. None had used her exact profile of a single mom of two young girls, but one talked about working for a small company in computers, and mentioned being a mom at one point. No real specifics, but enough that it could be Lyra.

“Hot as fuck, isn’t she?”

Luke felt a wave of anger wash over him as he turned, knowing damned well the voice would be coming from Aiden James, the asshole who lived in the last of the apartments on this floor. The one right next to Lyra and her girls. The creeper stood in his doorway in the apartment next to Lyra’s one hand scratching at his exposed stomach, as he stared at the door to Lyra’s apartment.

“I bet she’s one of those women who’d rock your world in the bedroom, you know, man? She’s all buttoned up and has the mom act going for her and shit, but fuck—” he drew out the last word as if he were picturing the act itself with Lyra. Luke had to school his expression to hide his response— “that one lets her hair down I’m telling you. I’d bet my bike on it.”

Luke had to stop himself asking if it was a Schwinn or a Huffy. He knew full well from his background checks on everyone in the building the guy owned a Harley. He was also out of work and had no way to explain how he paid his rent. The apartment building wasn’t high end, but it wasn’t low end either. It was fairly safe and kid-friendly. Well, aside from the leering Aiden James, it was kid-friendly. If Luke ever caught the guy looking at Lyra in front of her girls like that, he’d fucking castrate the asshole.

“That sink of yours still leaking?” Luke had a list of things that had been waiting for fixing. He was using it to get inside the tenants’ apartments and check things out.

“Yeah. You gonna do something about it? Kyle was useless. Took him months to get anything done.”

It was a wonder Kyle still had a job.

Luke nodded and spoke, before ducking back in his apartment. “Let me get my tools.”

His response to Lyra bothered him. He’d been telling himself it was only because he felt for her as a single mom. His mother had been one. Hell, he’d been a single parent himself, in a sense. But he was beginning to think his off-the-charts attraction to Lyra and the pull she seemed to have on him was more than that.

And right now, he wanted to do all he could to find someone else in this building that could be behind what was going on. Everything in him wanted to find someone else responsible. Because the idea that he’d have to take down Lyra Hill, to send the twins’ mom to prison, or worse—shit, that didn’t sit right at all.