“The place I have by the lake has a pool house that could work as a studio, and it has an efficiency apartment above it. If you wanted somewhere to spend a few weekends and work on your photography, you could stay there while you did it. I know it’d be a commute for you, but it might help to get out of the city and have a change of scenery. Plus, you’re right. I don’t need a babysitter but…I could use some crappy nineties movies. And maybe you could get something out of it, too.”
Her lips parted, closed, parted again. “You’re asking me to stay weekends at your lake house with you?”
“It wouldn’t be like that.” Though his mind wanted to go there. It wanted to go there and stay there and roll around in that sexy, sweaty thought for a while. “You’d have your own space.”
She stared at him like she couldn’t quite figure him out.
Join the club. He had no idea where this was coming from. He’d planned a few months of solitude, and now he was inviting a regular weekend guest. No, not a guest. Olivia Arias. But when she’d talked
about movies and making him laugh and just hanging out, it had leached into his blood like morphine. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had those kinds of simple pleasures with someone. It sounded almost as tempting as sex.
Almost.
And ultimately, he needed to get back on the job. That was his life. He had a mission that he hadn’t completed yet. One that had fueled him to join the FBI in the first place. He wouldn’t rest until he’d taken down whoever was responsible for the guns getting into the hands of the Long Acre shooters. He had to prove to his boss that he was ready for that kind of assignment again, or Billings would plant him at some desk to push papers around. So if Billings wanted to see him acting like a normal human again, what better way to do that than to tell his boss he was spending weekends with an old friend?
Liv glanced toward the hotel, maybe looking for an escape route.
“No pressure,” he added. “Just an idea.”
Liv ran her hands over the front of her skirt again, smoothing it, keeping her gaze on her lap. She was going to say no. She was coming up with a way to let him down nicely. He didn’t blame her.
“I don’t have a lot of space at my current place to deal with my camera equipment.” She peeked over at him. “And being outside and seeing new things always helped spark my creativity.”
Finn sat up straighter in the seat, trying to look unaffected. “Okay. So…”
She rolled her lips inward, gears obviously turning. “This sounds a little crazy.”
“I’m aware.” Painfully aware. He’d just invited his high school girlfriend to stay across the driveway from him. Beautiful, sexy Liv. Liv, who’d kissed him like she was ready to get naked last night. Liv, who he wasn’t allowed to touch.
Liv, who he wouldn’t hurt just because he was hard up and fucked up and wanted her in his bed more than he wanted air.
It wasn’t crazy. It was goddamned masochistic. She needed to say no.
Her lips curved into a tentative smile. “So…I guess maybe it’s time I take a few weekends off.”
“Great.”
Fuuuuuuck.
chapter
NINE
Liv walked into the Broken Yolk, her body on autopilot and her brain on blender mode after her talk with Finn. What the hell did I just do? Clearly, it had been an insane decision based on lack of coffee and low blood sugar from not eating. She couldn’t possibly have just agreed to stay at Finn’s on the weekends. That was some other Olivia in some alternate universe who was living a different life from her—one where she didn’t have responsibilities or a crazy, busy job or a shred of common sense.
One where she wasn’t ridiculously attracted to the man she’d be staying near.
She groaned inwardly and tried not to show her distress as she found her friends at a booth in the back. A spread of food that could feed twice as many of them filled the table. Stacks of pancakes, a waffle the size of a dinner platter, and enough eggs and bacon to kill a man. “Wow, y’all aren’t messing around.”
Taryn looked up. She’d wrangled her natural black curls into a cute style with a colorful headscarf today, and she’d clearly gotten more sleep than Liv because her brown eyes were bright behind her dark-rimmed glasses. She beamed at Liv. “Hey, you made it.” She scooted over and patted the spot beside her. “Sit. Kincaid is doing research for her food blog. We have graciously volunteered as tributes.”
Liv slid into the booth, tamping down the nervous, electric feeling running through her. She could freak out later. Alone. Like a proper introvert. She forced a smile. “I’m so hungry I could eat the napkins.”
“No need to resort to that. Plenty of tastier carbs to chow down on.” Taryn slid a plate of pancakes her way.
Liv didn’t hesitate. Food. She could focus on food. She grabbed the syrup and doused her plate. “So what did I miss?”
No one jumped in with an answer, and when she took her first bite, she realized everyone had stopped eating and was looking at her expectantly.