“Have you made progress yet?”

I’d tell Rich to go fuck himself for asking that question so soon, but he hasn’t even bothered to call me. He’s got his fucking lapdog, Man Bun, doing it for him. “Tell your master I’m working on it.” I put my truck in park outside Skye’s apartment and study the windows as I speak.

“He wants a progress report. Now.”

“In-fucking-progress. It’s been one day, what does he expect?” I shove open the door and swing my legs out. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m about to make more progress. That is, if you stop calling me every ten minutes to ask what I’m doing.”

“This is an important job,” Man Bun replies, his tone dead serious. “It’s a lot of money. We need to make sure you’re handling it as quickly as possible.”

“You want me to do it well or you want me to do it fast?” I slam the truck door, the sound echoing across the empty lot.

“Both, if you know what’s good for you.” He disconnects before I can give him a more detailed description of where he can shove his thick fucking skull.

It’s like he knew where I was, and what’s been running through my head all day. I don’t want to do this to her. I don’t want to lie to her, or put her in this situation. Never mind that her brother’s the one who got her into hot water; I should be the guy getting her out, not turning up the heat.

But it’s not like I have a choice. If it was only myself I had to worry about, it wouldn’t be an issue. I’ve been around motherfuckers like Rich my whole life, they were the reason I ever stepped foot in a ring, and I’ve never been afraid. Not even after I stopped fighting and the money stopped trickling in. The problem now is that Rich will go after people I care about. My own family—what’s left of it. Skye. Hell, Rich’s already breathing down her neck.

My only option is to make sure she learns nothing. After this is all said and done, after this last job is finished, I’ll throw her over my shoulder and carry her off into the sunset. Then neither of us will ever need to think about this shitty place again.

She’ll never need to know about Rich.

I jam the phone in my pocket and cross the parking lot to press her buzzer. It only sounds for half a second before the door flies open and suddenly she’s there, beaming up at me, every inch as beautiful as she was last night. It’s a punch straight to my gut. Well, if punches also made my cock hard.

She’s put on makeup tonight, not that she needs it. She’s flawless, even when she’s sweating from a workout. I want to kiss that damn bright red straight off her lips, but I’ve got to admit, it looks sinful as hell when she grins at me sideways and steps out of the apartment building’s main entrance.

“I heard you pull up,” she explains, still smiling, so open and innocent. “Is everything okay? Looked like you were a little upset or something.”

Shit. She saw me on the phone. “Just some work stuff.” I wave the question away, and try not to let any panic show on my face. “You ready?” I extend an arm, and she ducks her head with a shy blink before she slides her hand through the crook of my elbow. I move my other hand up to cover hers, her skin so damn impossibly soft against mine, and we cross the parking lot like that.

“What do you do for work?” she asks as she presses herself against my side, and I curse myself internally for bringing up the question.

“I used to fight.”

“Boxer?”

“MMA.”

Her gaze pops up to mine and a slow grin splits her face. “Why am I not surprised? Why’d you stop?”

“Broken femur. By the time I was able to get back in the ring, the fans had moved on and even then, I wasn’t as good as I was before my injury. Now I’m in acquisitions,” I respond, praying she won’t ask what I “acquire.” “But honestly, I hate it. My boss is a complete… ” I bite back the end of that sentence. I normally don’t mind swearing in front of women, but that one would be taking the dirty mouth a bit far. “Anyway. I’m making a career change. Soon.”

We reach my truck, and I open the door for her, still holding her hand as she climbs into the passenger seat, her fingers clenching around mine briefly. That touch makes me want to grab her, pull her back down, press her up against the door and take her right here, in full view of the street.

Luckily she lets go a split second later, and the momentary craziness fades a little.

“So, you’re the open-doors-for-ladies type, huh?” she asks when I start driving. She leans against the door to get a good look at me. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for that.”

“Not most ladies. Only the irresistible ones.” She’s so irresistible, in fact, that it’s taking all my willpower not to stare at her. Every shift of her body is a distraction—her hip popping up to press against the seatbelt, her hands winding around each other in her lap. It makes me think about the way those hips would look gripped tight in my hands, how it would feel to have her soft fingers wrapped around my hard shaft, jerking up and down until I blow.

Skye fidgets again in her seat, restless, and I wonder if she’s thinking along the same lines I am. “Yeah, well, still,” she says at last. “Politeness is a rare thing these days, I’ll tell you that.”

“You’re right, Skye.” I can’t get enough of saying her name. My eyes dart to her and then back to the road in front of us. I hate that I’ve got to focus on driving when she’s right next to me, smelling the way she does. Looking so innocently fuckable. “But you’re rare, too.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see that she’s blushing and I can’t help but wonder if she’ll do the same when my tongue is between her legs. “Not really,” she mumbles under her breath.

“If you only knew,” I tell her, and her flush deepens, but she doesn’t argue with the statement, at least.

If only I could make her see how wrong she is. If I could project the her I’m watching beside me right now, the her who dealt with all that shit in the diner last night from her bitchy co-workers to her douche boss, the her who’s sexy as hell without even realizing she’s doing it, without even trying, I would. I wish she could see herself the way I can see her.

If she knew how hard she’s making me…

If she knew why I asked her out in the first place, my brain counters. She’d fucking storm out of this truck right now, and who could blame her?

“What are you changing to?” she asks, and I blink, confused. “You said you were changing careers,” she clarifies, and I almost laugh.

I don’t think anyone has ever listened to me as closely as she does before. The girls I usually go out with are the shut-up-and-fuck-me type, or on the rare occasions I choose badly, the listen-to-me-bitch-nonstop type. I normally don’t talk. And they sure as hell don’t listen to anything I say if I do.

“Mechanic.” Then I shrug a shoulder. “Who the hell knows but I’ve always been good with my hands and my pop was a mechanic before he died. It’s hard to think about a new job when you’re still caught up in the old one, you know?”

“Do I ever,” she murmurs, and I want to ask more, want to pry. Want to see where else she sees herself besides serving at Monroe’s for all the rest of forever. It’s clear from the hunch in her shoulders that she doesn’t want to go down that road, though, so I leave it be for the moment.

Eventually, I’ll learn everything there is to know about Skye Banner.

Twenty minutes later, I turn into the parking lot of the restaurant I’ve picked out, an upscale fusion place that does some amazing things with Chinese food. Or so I’ve heard. This type of restaurant wouldn’t be my usual haunt, but I think Skye will like it. “Here we go.”

Her eyes widen. “This place just opened last month; it’s practically impossible to get a reservation even like a week in advance.”

I may or may not have called in a couple favors of my own through Rich’s chain of Man-Bunned thugs, but it’s not like I can tell her that. “It wasn’t that hard,” I bluff.

She’s grinning in a way that tells me that she knows damn well how hard it was to get a reservation and that she appreciates it. As I wrench the gear shift into park, she leans across the seat to press a quick kiss to my cheek. “Thank you,” she whispers, and then she’s already leaning back in her seat. She unbuckles and jumps out of the truck before I can even think about kissing her back.

It sure as fuck wouldn’t be an innocent little peck.

More than ever, I can’t wait to get my hands on her, lay her down on my big king-sized bed and eat her out until those huge blue eyes of hers can’t see straight. Only then will I fuck her, so long and so hard that she won’t be able to walk the next day.

My cock twitches in my jeans, wanting to get started on that already. But we have work to do first. Dirty work that makes me feel as low as Rich.

I step out of the truck and lead the way into the restaurant. A waitress in a tiny dress that’s so tight I can see every centimeter of her body greets us with a shit-eating grin and leads us to our seats, her hips twitching deliberately, trying to catch my eye. She’s wasting her time.

I have eyes only for Skye.

I’m unable to tear my gaze away from her as we slide into opposite sides of a close, quiet booth. I don’t bother to hide my stare, even when she laughs nervously and dips her head toward the table. She should know she’s the hottest woman in this whole city, let alone this restaurant.

“I don’t do this kind of thing much,” she murmurs like she’s reading my mind.

“What, humor guys like me when we ask you out?” I reach one hand across the table to brush my fingers along her forearm. Her eyelids flutter for a second, before she squares her shoulders and faces off with me.

“So … why did you really ask me out?” Her voice is soft, but there’s an edge there I haven’t heard before.

I like that edge. Want more of it any way I can get it.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I counter, completely honest. Even if I hadn’t been assigned to follow her, I would have pursued her. Anyone who notices her couldn’t help but want her. My biggest regret—other than this deception that’s driving me crazy—is that I didn’t meet her sooner.

She rolls her eyes. “Seriously. No one other than my boss has asked me on a date in…” She nibbles on her lower lip then shakes her head. “You know what, never mind. I just … if you’re only looking for a quick hookup or something, tell me going into it, okay? That’s all I ask. I’m not saying I’m not interested.”

Her eyes roam over my chest before resting on the tattoo on my inner bicep. I’d gotten it ten years ago, right after I turned eighteen. She mouths the quote—Rage, rage against the dying of the light—then looks back up into my eyes. “I just like to know what I’m getting into up-front. That’s all.”

A no-bullshit kind of girl. I’m liking her more and more every moment. “Oh, I want to taste, feel, and smell that sweet little cunt of yours, Skye, there’s no doubt about it,” I tell her, keeping my voice slow and open. Her pouty pink lips drop open in shock, so I continue, “But that’s not all I’m interested in. Not by a long shot.”

She seems like she’s waiting for me to say more. There’s only so many cards I’m willing to show before the big reveal, though. Life’s a poker game, and I don’t exactly hold a winning hand. I play things close to the chest, just in case. But I’m not going to lie—her pale blue eyes go straight through my poker face to stab me in the heart. I’d tell her everything right now if I thought I could. If I thought there was a chance she’d ever forgive me for it.

Luckily, I’m not that stupid.

“Tell me about you,” I say as the waitress steps up to our table. I barely glance the other woman’s way, even though she’s angling that chest in my direction like she wants me to dive headfirst into her tits. “We’ll take the skewers and the rolls to start—that’s what you’re known for, right?” I don’t wait to notice her nod in my peripheral vision. “Skye, do those look good to you?”

She hasn’t even opened her menu, but she nods anyway.

My kind of foodie, too.

The waitress leaves us in peace, and Skye takes a longer than usual time sipping her water. She seems like she’s thinking, though, not stalling, so I let her take her time.

Finally, she shrugs one shoulder, her head tilted to the side as she studies me in return—almost as closely as I’ve been watching her. “I’m pretty average. I work at Monroe’s. I grew up in a beach town a little bit north of here, but it’s still the suburbs. My brother and I worked at the boardwalk here on our summer vacations all through high school.”

My eyebrows inch up just the slightest fraction. “You have brothers?”

“Yeah, but just the one. Let me tell you, though, he’s enough.” She laughs and takes another slug of water.

I can imagine.

“So you’re older?” I ask, with a knowing smile that I don’t have to fake.

“Younger, actually. But we’re so close in age we’re practically twins. Ian’s only ten months older.” She rolls her eyes. “I always feel like I’m the older sister in our relationship, though.”

I nod. “Yeah, me too. But my brother’s a year younger.” When I scowl at the mention of my kid brother, she sucks in her bottom lip. It’s an insanely sexy gesture and my desire to own everything this beautiful girl has got to offer reaches an all-time high. “It’s a pain in the ass taking on the role of older sibling. They don’t know how much work we do watching out for them.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth.” She lets out another laugh, this one fuller and rounder. Throaty. I love her voice, but I love her laugh even more. She has the laugh of a woman who knows how to have fun, but who never lets herself do that.

It makes me want to remind her how.

“My little brother went straight from rehab to joining a religious cult,” I tell her, my voice low. It sounds true. Probably because it is. I haven’t seen my brother in years because he’s written me—us—off and that’s fine with me. I don’t tell just anyone my family history, but if I want to convince Skye to unburden her woes to me, I’ll need to give her at least a little bit in return.

She purses her lips in sympathy. “Mine went through that. Addiction, I mean. Not the religious cult stuff.” Her cheeks flame just the tiniest bit, and the blush is too damn delectable on her pale skin. “He’s been sober for four years, though. He quit drinking and gambling all at once, when…” She winces. “I’m sorry. This is heavy. We should talk about fun things on dates, right?”

“You can talk about anything you want, beautiful. I mean that.”

She presses a thumb to her temple, letting her shoulders sag. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I reach across the table again, catch her hand in mine and draw it away from her forehead to wind my fingers through hers. “Like I said, talk about anything you want. I don’t believe in all that ‘small talk’ first date shit. Real talk is where you get to know people. Why bother with fake bullshit?”

“I know you’re humoring me, but I’m going to let it slide just this once,” she says with a sideways smile. “What about you? You haven’t told me much about yourself either, other than you used to fight and you might become a mechanic once you leave acquisitions.”

“Oh, I’m average,” I reply, my tone sharp.

She snorts. “Okay, I deserved that one. But really. What’s your deal, Xander?” Her eyes lock onto mine, and I want to fall into her and never stop. Fuck, what’s she doing to me? “I want to know everything.”