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“It’s Saturday, so no work… officially. If I was home alone, I’d be staring at your files.”

“But…?”

“Do you wanna get breakfast?” I could stare at him, instead. “We could go for a drive. Grab something to eat.”I could remove you from the life you know, and maybe show you normalcy.“I haven’t eaten a proper meal all week.”

“I can tell.” He lifts a brow. “Do your ribs always stick out like that, or are you going for a Paris Fashion Show look?”

I roll my eyes and lean over the sink to work my hair into a bun. “Shut up about my body. My ribs always do this, and you promised you wouldn’t look, anyway.”

“I promisedyesterday,” he answers easily. “That was in the past. Now it’s the weekend and you’re wearing my underwear. New day. New rules.”

Instead of answering his man logic, I narrow my eyes and work the hair tie from my wrist.

“Ya know, if you ate a donut a day, your ribs probably wouldn’t poke out like that.”

“Really? Well, if you ate a shoe once a day, you wouldn’t say stupid shit and annoy me.”

Chuckling, he steps into the small bathroom behind me and takes up the last of the already minimal space. His body heat reaches me long before his hands. He takes my hips in his palms with a kind of intimacy I didn’t realize we shared – minus the whole sleeping in the same bed thing. With a pleasure filled rumble, he slides his calloused hands along my hips and up to my ribs, careful to move around the stitches beneath the bandage. “If you ate more, maybe the next guy with a knife won’t be able to hurt you so easily. You make me worry, and I won’t always be around to do your dirty business.”

“Come to breakfast.” Dropping my hands away from my hair, I step back and rest against his chest. We’re practically strangers, on opposing teams as far as the law goes, but he’s saved my life twice this week, he held me while I cried; he’s been nothing but kind – even when he’s being a jerk – and his broad chest is just so comfortable.

A week ago, I was skating along a six month dry spell – my vagina was growing mold and cobwebs – and I definitely had no man chest to lean against. But if he insists on holding me up, if he continues to hold my hips and pull me back, then who am I to fight it?

Scary ink, scary job, scary man; none of it matters, because inside, he’s actually kind of a pussycat with poor decision-making skills. “Let’s eat. I’m starving. And I literally don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat.”

“Maybe I eat with my mouth open?” Pulling me closer until his dick presses against my ass, he purposely juts his pelvis forward until my eyes drop closed. “Maybe I chew weird. Then you’ll realize you hate me.”

“Maybe I already hate you.” Forcing my eyes open, I squeeze a ball of toothpaste onto my finger and slide it along my teeth. I don’t have a toothbrush and I might be in the thick of a mid-life crisis, but I can’t bear to have furry teeth.

Watching me in the mirror, he slides his large hands over my skin like a blind man trying tosee. His eyes drop as he studies my belly. My hip bone. My ribs. And the tiny tattoo I had drawn on with my sister years ago.

Bringing his right hand up to my shoulder, he strokes the tiny silvered mark on my neck. “I’m sorry you got hurt again, Jess.” He studies my neck with a frown. “It really bothers me that you got hurt on my watch.”

“You were kinda unconscious…”

“I think we have proof now, your life and mine don’t cross over safely. It’s too dangerous.” His left hand squeezes my shoulder as though to keep me in place. “You need to go back toyourside of town. You need to forget you ever met me.”

“Can’t forget.” I lean forward and spit toothpaste into the sink. “Trying to have you incarcerated. No time to forget.”

Chuckling, he slides his hand over the top of my chest until goosebumps race all the way to my toes. It’s like a hug. Almost arealhug from the giant bear who absolutely doesn’t seem like a hugger. “This is a fun cat and mouse game, Blondie, I’ll give you that. And if Imustbe locked up, I’ll go away with a smile if it was you who turned the key. I’m a sucker for a pretty girl.”

“I still know people, Kane. Mechanics. Cops. A bar that needs tending. You name it, I could help you make it happen.”

“Let’s start with breakfast, then we’ll go from there.”

I turn, and since he refuses to step back, we end up chest to chest, so I smile and patronizingly tap his nose. “Suits me. Pass me my dress, will you? I’m ready to go as soon as I pull my shoes on.”

He releases my hips and steps out of the bathroom for half a beat, only to return and toss the baby pink material at my face.

I have to pull the fabric the right way out, since he undressed me like a parent undresses their toddler, and bringing it over my head, I’m careful not to mess my messy bun.

“How much did you pay for these?” I glance over to find Kane standing at the door with my strappy wedges hanging from his fingers.

I shrug. “Dunno. I don’t remember.”

“You little liar!” He moves into the bathroom and pulls me against his chest until the breath explodes from my lungs. “You just lied to me, Blondie. I know when you’re lying.”

I shoot my chin up in defiance. He’s not wrong. But I’m a proud woman. “How do you know?”


Tags: Emilia Finn Checkmate Dark