The sun had only been up for about thirty minutes when I went into my six-year-old’s bedroom to wake him. Beams of light fell across the floor, which was just shy of clean, mostly because I’d threatened no bedtime story if he didn’t pick up his toy dump trucks and Hot Wheels. Now I only had to sidestep a stuffed bear that had fallen off his bed and the pajama shirt he must have stripped off sometime in the night.

 

Cody always hated covering his shoulders while he slept. He’d been weird about it since forever.

 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I reached for his blanket bundled body and gave him a gentle shake. “Cody, baby, time to get up. We’ve got to get you ready for school.”

 

He groaned, trying to shake me off and roll over at the same time. I smiled a little at him, knowing he wasn’t a huge fan of mornings, but I wouldn’t let him get away with sleeping in. He’d be at school on time. Period. Especially since I had work and couldn’t afford to miss even a little bit of time in the morning.

 

“C’mon sleepyhead. It’s rise and shine or no pancakes for you.”

 

That got his attention. As much as he hated getting up in the morning, he loved food. Like, to the point where I had to put stuff up on the highest shelves to make sure he didn’t get into it and devour everything right after I bought it. Feeding a growing boy was like having a pet dinosaur—there would never be enough food.

 

“Do they have blueberries?” came his muffled voice from beneath the covers.

 

I grinned. “Only if you get up now and wash your hands and face.”

 

There was a short pause, then he threw back the covers with a flourish. He sat up, his blonde hair—just like mine, but a little lighter—sticking up at every imaginable angle. Rubbing at his eyes, he let out a yawn before getting out of bed. He paused for half a second, eyeing me, then leaned over and gave my leg a quick hug. Then he headed down the hall towards the bathroom.

 

Shaking my head a little, I went to make breakfast as quickly as possible.

 

I was pretty good at this by now. My routine was steady, stable, and it worked. Maybe it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world, but it kept my little two-person household running. I moved the skillet to the stove, turned on the burner, then reached for the fridge where I’d had the forethought to prepare my bribery the night before. A bowl of pre-mixed pancake batter sat on the middle shelf. I grabbed it and poured two small dollops into the slightly heated pan. As those began to cook, I poured some milk and grabbed a brown paper bag that would hold Cody’s lunch.

 

He came running down as I was halfway through the second batch of pancakes and was using black magic marker to write his name across his lunch sack—and a special heart, because I was all about those extra good mom brownie points.

 

I stacked two little pancakes on a plate and let him have some syrup, even though I knew it would make him sticky. I checked the clock as I flipped the second batch of pancakes. We didn’t have a lot of time.

 

“Eat fast, little man,” I ordered him. “Momma’s got a tight schedule.”

 

He grinned and proceeded to wolf down the short stack, using his hands and not even pretending to care about the syrup he was getting everywhere. I groaned. This was why I had him eat breakfast before he got dressed.

 

“Not exactly what I meant,” I told him.

 

Cody shrugged his little shoulders, then downed half a glass of milk. Finished, he didn’t even bother to say thanks as he ran back to the bathroom to get cleaned up. I was hoping his school stuff was already together, but I knew I’d better double check anyway.

 

I glanced ruefully at the dishes. “A battle for another day,” I muttered to them, promising myself I’d do them that night. Right now, I was a mom with a mission: get my kid to school and get to work on time.

 

# # #

 

I made one pit stop on the way to Cody’s school to pick up Jessie, one of my few remaining friends and my coworker. Her apartment was on the way and it saved time in the long run to just pick her up before rather than doubling back.

 

Still, it meant I was rushing Cody out of the car and up the school’s steps before that first bell. I got him halfway down the sidewalk before he waved me off, shooing me before his cool friends saw him with his mom.

 

Jeez, I’m already too old to be considered cool, I thought with an eye roll. I folded my arms across my chest, watching him head towards the front doors. It was the little pause he did before going inside that made my day, though, because he actually turned and waved at me.

 

I smiled. Good to know he hadn’t completely outgrown me yet.

 

I headed back to the car where Jessie was waiting. She was leaning against the poor old Camry, watching Cody like I’d just been. “Is it just me or was it like two days ago that you were carrying him like a football tucked under your shirt?”

 

Laughing, I shook my head. “I know. I was just thinking I’m already too old to be cool now. He doesn’t want his friends to see him with me.”

 

Jessie actually rolled her eyes. “Kids these days.”

 

We fell silent, both watching the school. The kids had virtually all headed inside and the parents were pulling out of the school parking lot to make a hell of a traffic jam, so I wasn’t too worried about getting out of there right that moment.

 

“You ever feel like you’re just not getting it right sometimes?”

 

Jessie glanced away from the school to stare at me. She had a cute bob that was black streaked with a line of blue on the left side. She got away with it only because I ran a hair salon and it was important to show I did trendy stuff as well as the more traditional styles.

 

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, raising a delicate brow. She used that time I had to get Cody ready for school to do her makeup, so she always looked pretty if a little too done up. “You’re an awesome mother. Cody’s lucky to have you.”

 

I sighed and shook my head. “I just mean that this is hardly a life, you know? This town, this place…Let’s face it, it’s not exactly the safest place in the country.”

 

Jessie lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Yeah, but what can you do? Nowhere’s as safe as it used to be. It’s all drugs this and crime that. At least our murder rate is relatively low.”

 

I fixed her with a stare.

 

“What? I mean, this isn’t New York City or Chicago. At least here we’ve got a chance to live mostly safe lives.”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” I said, but I wasn’t very convinced. This place was run by dirty cops and the people who paid them.

 

Just keep your nose clean, I thought to myself. All you’ve got to do is keep plugging away.

 

It was hard to believe that was true when I was barely making rent and had to ask for Jessie’s help for some of the school supplies this semester for Cody, but I tried. Mostly it was because it was the only thing I could do.

 

# # #

 

Jessie and I arrived at The Cut with twenty minutes to spare. Enough time to get both the salon and the convenience store attached opened and ready for business. I unlocked the door, heading inside. Holding the door open for Jessie, I made sure it closed behind her and locked before getting started. The neighborhood wasn’t necessarily the worst, but it definitely wasn’t the best.

 

“I’ll set up,” Jessie offered.

 

I was very grateful. Technically, I’d hired Jessie as a cashier only. She was twenty-three and didn’t have a lot of job experience thanks to a pricey degree in philosophy. She still quoted it as the worst decision she’d ever made, though I could tell she didn’t regret the experience as much as she claimed.

 

But despite Jessie’s inexperience, she was a hard worker and more help than the last three people I’d hired. She went above and beyond her job descriptions, plus Cody loved her. She was great with kids.

 

“If you were any more perfect, I’d seriously consider being a lesbian.”

 

She laughed. “Like you have a say in that.”

 

I shrugged. “No, but sometimes I wish I did.”

 

Shaking her head, she pulled out the merchandise that we put in the back of the store for safe keeping at night. As she was putting it up, she said, “Face it. You may want a woman for a partner, but in the end you can’t help but love a good co—”

 

“Jessie!”

 

She grinned at me, then did her best innocent expression. Which had zero effect in convincing me. “What? I was just going to say a good cook. Where did your mind go?”

 

We bantered like that for the rest of the morning, though I delicately steered it away from men, relationships, and cocks I was craving. Which, okay, I was, but it wasn’t exactly something I had a lot of time for. Finding a good man in these parts was already difficult. Add in one that was okay with a six-year-old kid and an independent, business-owning woman? That basically knocked my choices down to zero.

 

So until Mr. Right came along, I would have to satisfy my needs with my vibrator and whatever kinky dreams my mind decided to supply me with.

 

At eight o’clock, I unlocked the door and flipped the Open sign. Jessie went next door to the convenience store to cashier, which meant she was standing at the counter that straddled the salon and the store.

 

It was an odd little setup—the salon and the store separated by only a step down into the convenience store side, but I’d never had any issues with it. Sometimes I would pull the curtain I’d had installed when I got the place across the store for a little privacy, but mostly I just left it open. The business was pretty small, but we made a decent living. We didn’t do great by any stretch, as evidenced by the way Jessie occasionally donated money towards Cody’s school supplies, but we got by.

 

I double checked my appointment book to confirm that I didn’t have anyone in until eight-thirty that morning. As I was checking it over—Lenore was at 8:30 and Margaret at 9:10—I was surprised to hear the little bell over the door ring. We took walk-ins, but it was unusual to get one first thing.

 

Putting on my friendly customer service smile, I said, “Hi, welcome to The Cut. What can I—?” I broke off abruptly when I saw who it was.

 

Ethan Chambers the original tall, dark, and dangerously handsome. Also the last person I wanted in my shop. He smiled at me, his mouth smooth and sensuous, moving like it was making promises before he even had a chance to say anything. “Good morning,” he greeted, his dark eyes lighting on me instantly. “Are you Diana Leone or does The Cut cater to models now?”

 

It was a feat, but my body simultaneously bristled at the cheesy line and melted at the smooth deepness of his voice.

 

Jesus, I need to get laid if I think Ethan Chambers is sexy.

 

Not that he wasn’t, but when you add in the kind of baggage he was rumored to carry with him, the attractiveness went down a few notches. Or at least it should have.

 

“I don’t know about any models, but I can confirm I’m Diana. Do you have an appointment?” I asked only because I knew he didn’t and I needed something professional to say. Business was a good cover when I was nervous and I was most definitely that. Or maybe scared as hell was a better term for it.

 

Ethan Chambers had a reputation for scaring the crap out of people.

 

“I don’t, but I’m not really here for a haircut anyway.” His dark eyes dipped lower than my face, dragging over my body, which was half covered by an apron and a pair of what might constitute mom jeans beneath that, so what was he even looking at?

 

But knowing how I was dressed didn’t do anything to stop my body from ramping up in response to his gaze. Shivers, good and bad, ran through me. “Then what would a man of your…reputation be doing here?”

 

His eyebrows rose, but his smile didn’t drop, which was good. It occurred to me after I spoke that I was implying he had a bad rep. And he did, but I doubted he liked hearing about it. “My reputation?” he repeated. “What have you heard?” He set his elbows on the back of one of the stylist chairs, leaning towards me slightly. He looked amused by the conversation.

 

I swallowed. “You own half the commercial property in town. You’ve made a name for yourself. Not exactly the sort of high profile clientele The Cut usually gets,” I answered as smoothly as I could. I didn’t mention the rumors of him bribing the police or blackmailing the politicians. Nor did I mention the rumors of cruelty, violence, and worse.

 

He laughed a little. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got a lovely little place here.” He winked at me. “And the view’s great.”

 

I pursed my lips together. The view was an abandoned building across the street and a brick wall on the side. Not exactly prime real estate. I crossed my arms over my chest and forcing a fake smile, I asked, “What do you want?”

 

There was that long moment and that grin on his lips that suggested he would make some other comment about wanting me or at least wanting my body. But I was surprised when he straightened up, suddenly turning into a shark of a businessman. “I just wanted to ask about your business. Have you been doing well?”

 

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Well enough,” I answered tersely.

 

“Plenty of business?”

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

He smiled. Not a smile like he wanted to devour me, but a smile like he had a secret. Like he was in control. Like he knew something I didn’t and he was more than happy to use that to his advantage. “You’ve really got a great location here.”

 

I thought again of the abandoned building across the street and the brick wall. “Yeah, it’s good.”

 

“I was thinking you might be kind enough to give me a quick tour of the place?”

 

I raised an eyebrow at him. When it was clear he wasn’t kidding, I lifted an arm and waved it in the air above my head to indicate the room. “This is the shop. What you see is what you get,” I told him drily.

 

He laughed, low and deep. One of those rumbling laughs that settles somewhere in your chest, behind your ribs, and sends those good ripples through your body. Like he was at some comedy club and I was the best damn comedian he’d seen in ages.

 

Which was highly doubtful. I wasn’t exactly known for my comedic genius.

 

“What’s so funny?” I couldn’t help but ask, though I was sure he was just laughing to get on my nerves. Everything about this man got on my nerves. All I wanted was for him to get the hell out of my shop and never come back.

 

But I knew better than to tell him that. It was one thing to be cold towards him. But downright rude? Disrespectful? That was like asking for trouble and with my head just barely above water, I couldn’t afford that kind of trouble.

 

When he got himself under control again, even wiping at his eyes in an exaggerated fashion, he smiled broadly at me. “I like you. You’re a funny one.”

 

I didn’t say anything in response to that, just waited for him to give me an answer.

 

After a moment, the businessman returned and he said to me, “I was actually hoping to see if you had some extra space in the back. Maybe a storage room? You must have some for the shop, of course, but maybe some food storage for the store?”

 

I frowned a little, trying to figure out his angle. Of course I had storage. The Cut needed chemicals, hair products, and some miscellaneous items like clips, combs, gloves, and aprons. Dry goods, so to speak. But the convenience store had space for some of the food stuffs we sold. There was even a decent-sized cooler in the back behind the alcohol section, though it wouldn’t compete with any major chain.

 

What I couldn’t figure out is why Ethan Chambers would care.

 

“I have storage,” I answered stiffly. “It’s nominal, but it works for my purposes.”

 

He nodded once, his expression considering. “Do you use all of it?”

 

“Not usually, no.”

 

His smile was sly as he moved from the chair where he’d been lingering to come and stand closer to me. My first instinct was to step back and put some distance between us, but I forced myself to remain still. I’d hold my ground if only because I wouldn’t let him intimidate me like this.

 

“I have a little proposition for you, then,” he said. “Businessman to businesswoman. I’d like to rent your extra storage space which would in no way interfere with your business here.” He waved a large hand around to indicate my shop, not unlike I’d mockingly done earlier. “I’ll store some extra stock here—from the diner—until I need it. At which point I’ll stop by and pick it up. You won’t even know it’s there.”

 

Already, I knew I didn’t like this. I opened my mouth to tell him that I wasn’t interested when he added quickly, “I’ll pay you a good price. Better than anyone else would.”

 

That made me pause.

 

Extra money? How could a single mother with a barely-above-water business ignore an outright promise of more income?

 

I couldn’t. But still I hesitated. It wasn’t that it sounded wrong, necessarily. Based on what he’d just suggested, I was only providing extra space for his overflow stock. He’d pay me, like any renter might, and I wouldn’t have to have anything to do with it. No worries about moving shipments, checking in freight, or otherwise dealing with expiration dates, food quality, or transportation.

 

And, yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was wrong. There was something that just didn’t sit right with me. Maybe it was the fact that I knew Ethan wasn’t the easy-going, friendly businessman he sold himself as.

 

Or maybe it was just that I wasn’t an idiot. Who would come to me to store extra food from his diner? After all, he owned half the businesses in town. There were plenty of other places he could store his stuff. For free.

 

That was what made me nervous.

 

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I thought it over. Ethan had the money to make good on his promise of a decent price for the space.

 

I could really use the money.

 

“And what exactly would you be storing here?”

 

He shrugged casually. “Oh, just some extra stock that I don’t have room for at the diner.”

 

Frowning, I clarified, “Food?”

 

He nodded. “Consumables, yes.”

 

I went over it in my head once more. It was just food. Extra food from the diner. I would just be storing it until he needed it so that he could run a more successful business. Which meant he’d make good on his promise to pay me. Which meant I could make some extra money.

 

I tried to talk myself into it, but I wasn’t having an easy time of it. Finally, I just told him simply, “I want to think it over before I commit to anything.”

 

Ethan smiled widely at me, though I thought there was something hard in the line of his mouth. “Sure. Just don’t think too long, honey,” he told me with a wink. “The first shipment is due in just a few days.”

 

His gaze had turned predatory and there was the promise of something dark lingering in his eyes. But he didn’t do anything or say anything more. He just gave me a brief nod, then turned for the door. He left, the little bell ringing after him, and I stood there staring at where he’d been.

 

I couldn’t shake that I’d just met with the devil and, whether I had asked for it or not, my soul was on the line.