“Thanks for coming to check on me. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight?” He looked perplexed, and with good reason.

That was a mighty fine kiss. Better than fine. Stupendous. Panty wetting. She’d felt it.

Which was why she’d ended it.

The kind of fire igniting between Lily and Calvin would burn out quickly, and for what? A few minutes of heaven? Was the brief pleasure worth the possible pain? And she didn’t mean the break-up kind.

Tonight, the stakes had gone higher than ever. If it were Brock’s doing, then Calvin was right about one thing. Running away wouldn’t work. He’d find her, and the next time would be worse. She needed to take care of this problem between her and Brock. She needed help.

But from whom?

I don’t know how to fix this.

She needed someone with connections and know-how. Someone who could get the job done. Hadn’t Calvin just claimed he knew those kinds of people?

“Those friends of yours, just what can they do?” She knew better than to ask him if he knew of any hitmen for hire. She couldn’t be entirely sure the house wasn’t bugged. She wouldn’t put it past Brock. So far, she’d not done anything that crossed any lines, but the moment she did… Brock would use it against her.

I can’t let that happen.

“My friends have varied skills, so they can do just about anything. They’re very good at—” He paused for a second. “—solving problems.”

“Yeah, but this is a big problem. I mean, you saw what happened tonight. Brock will stoop to any level.”

Putting it out there, it didn’t surprise Lily to see his face go blank. He took a moment to process her accusation. “You think that shooter was after you because of your ex?”

“Obviously. Brock wants to scare me into going back to him.” Brock didn’t want her dead. Killing Lily, a mere woman, would make him look weak. He’d prefer to see her go crawling back to him.

Never.

“Can I kill him?” Calvin said it so seriously. It just about melted her panties right off.

No man should ever look or sound so sexy. A pity he didn’t mean it. A dead Brock would solve many problems. Except for one. “I can’t kill Zoe’s dad.”

“You wouldn’t have to.” His lips stretched, and his teeth pearled between them. If a shark smiled, it would have looked like Calvin—with a beard.

She really needed to go to bed. Before she began hallucinating he could change into an actual animal like those guys in romance novels sometimes did. Men becoming moose and wolves and bears. Lily didn’t get the appeal.

“You should go.” She needed to sleep and figure out a game plan in the morning.

“I will, but only because I’ve got some phone calls to make.” He tilted her chin with a finger. “Sleep tight. I got this.”

“Whenever Zoe says that, it results in stuff getting spilled.”

His lips curved. “Funny thing, but that’s usually how it works for me, too.”

“You’re a strange man, Calvin Jones.”

“Not strange, more like multi-layered. Keep peeling, and perhaps you’ll see the real me.” Before she could wonder what that meant, he dropped a kiss on her lips and left.

For the second time that night, he was gone, and yet she didn’t have the same despair as before. She shut the door and locked it, leaning against it for a moment.

What was it about Calvin that made her feel safe? He made it seem like he truly could handle anything. But he sold real estate for a living. Real estate. Like, seriously. What could his friends do? Call the IRS on Brock? Wreck his credit rating?

She needed a plan to deal with Brock. One that didn’t involve a gun or a manacle attached to a cinder block. What about arsenic?

Would Brock notice rat poison in his coffee? Probably not since he’d never noticed the laxatives she gave him when she wanted petty revenge.

Much as she might joke, though, she couldn’t kill him. She didn’t have the guts to do it. If only she knew someone who did.