by Jill Shalvis
He held her gaze. “You have my full attention.”
“Winner gets to pick their spoils.”
And just like that, he was in. “I could take you outside the city to a working ranch in Sonoma that Donovan, a buddy of mine, runs,” he said. “We could ride real horses.”
She looked horrified. “What, are you crazy? No way.”
He arched a brow. “Let me get this straight. You’ll get on a mechanical bull, which by the way is actually very dangerous, but not a real horse?”
“I’m not riding anything that’s got a mind of its own.”
He sidled her a glance. “Ever?”
She grimaced. “Well I walked right into that one, didn’t I.”
He grinned. “Want to take it back?”
She looked him over, slowly and with great interest. “I’ll get back to you on that one.”
“I look forward to it.”
They got out of the truck. Ivy held his hand, tugging him off the sidewalk and into the street.
“Jaywalking’s illegal,” he said.
“You can give me a citation later.”
He liked the sound of that. He found himself smiling as she tugged him along, in her usual impatient hurry to get to everything.
The bar was every cliché of a cowboy bar imaginable, down to the saddles for seats and wagon wheels on the walls, and let’s not forget the mechanical bull. Kel was still taking it all in when their drinks were served.
Ivy tossed hers back and stood. “Watch and learn, cowboy.”
She strode to the mechanical bull. Someone gave her a cowboy hat and when the bull began to move, she was one hand on the hat, the other on the rope, her body moving in sync with the bull.
Kel’s mouth went dry.
She lasted a respectable ten seconds before being tossed and landing in a graceful pile on the mats.
Then she was in front of him again, grinning with pride, still wearing the hat. “Beat that, cowboy.”
Her excitement and love for life was contagious as hell, and against all his own personal boundaries and sense of dignity, he stood up. He did a brief internal inventory of his still healing injuries, but he was feeling good. Good enough to do this. “Winner gets to pick their spoils,” he reminded her.
She looked at him for a beat. “Within reason,” she amended.
He smiled, thinking he could work with those odds, and strode to the damn mechanical bull.
It was possibly the most ridiculous thing he’d ever done in his entire life, so why he was still smiling as he mounted the thing, he had no idea.
When the bull began to move, the crowd went wild while he held on for dear life. He could hear Ivy chanting “cowboy, cowboy, cowboy!” making him laugh and nearly fell off.
He lasted ten point five seconds before he was flung into the air, landing flat on his ass in an undignified heap. Before he could get up, Ivy jumped on him, laughing as she straddled him, slid her fingers into his hair, and—to the crowd’s delight—kissed him. Then she pulled back and rose, offering him a hand. He let her pull him to his feet before he stole another kiss, this one more aggressive than hers. “I won,” he said against her mouth, hands gripping her hips, enjoying the satisfaction of watching her eyes heat.
She removed the cowboy hat and set it on his head. “How about that for your spoils?”
He shook his head. “I won more than the hat,” he said, and bought her another drink. They sat thigh-to-thigh watching the dance floor, talking easily, laughing, and seeing her relax with him was a gift he hadn’t realized he wanted. He couldn’t tear his eyes off her. “Want to dance?” he asked.
She looked at him in surprise. “You dance?”
“I grew up in a tiny town in Idaho. We had to dance for PE during snowy winter days in the auditorium.”
She laughed.
“It’s true.”
She eyed him more closely. “Like the salsa and the cha-cha kind of dancing?”
“All kinds,” he said.
“Do you do the silly white boy boogie, where you just sort of rock back on your feet and look like you might be having a seizure?”
He smiled. “Want to double down on our wager?”
She laughed. “Hell, yes, I’ll take that challenge.”
“Okay,” he said. “But if I win again, we change the terms of what you owe me.”
“How?”
“The ‘within reason’ clause gets eradicated.”
She stared at his mouth and nibbled on her lower lip like the idea excited her, a lot, and the temperature in the bar seemed to spike about a hundred degrees. He led her to the dance floor just as “Thriller” came on, and when he began to make the moves with pinpoint accuracy, she started laughing. “Okay,” she conceded, “you really can move on the dance floor.”
“I’m even better off the dance floor,” he promised.
She laughed some more and moved in closer, until they were up against each other, writhing to the beat. And damn, she could move too, and feeling all her sweet curves rock to his was driving him crazy in the very best of ways.
They danced until Ivy had to take off her shoes. Then they ate bad bar food and laughed and talked some more. It was midnight when he drove her home.
Still in the truck outside her building, he turned to her. “That was the best date I’ve ever been on.”
She stared at him. “It was?”
“By far.”
She squirmed a bit and then removed her seatbelt. “Thanks for tonight,” she said softly. “It’s late, and I’ve got to be up in a few hours, so—”
Leaning in, he took a nip at her bottom lip. “You’re worried I’m going to claim my spoils tonight.”
“No.”
“Liar.” He laughed when she narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “I’m not collecting my prize tonight.”
“You’re not?” She sounded a little breathless, and . . . disappointed. He got out of the truck and came around for her.
On the sidewalk, Ivy called out a greeting to both Jasmine and Martina, who were huddled in their blankets. “Ladies,” she said, and handed them over her bar leftovers. Waffle fries.
“Your breakfast tacos were real good this morning,” Jasmine said. “I like the new seasonings.”
Ivy smiled. “Thanks, I’ve been changing some things up.”
“You should try a pinch of cocoa powder,” Martina said. “My mama used to use it as her secret ingredient.”
“I will,” Ivy promised.
He and Ivy took the stairs and when they got to the top landing, she glanced up at him. “Kel?”
He looked into her pretty blue eyes and smiled. “Yeah?”
“It was my best date ever too,” she said very quietly and she turned toward her front door.
And then froze, stopping short so fast, he nearly plowed into her back. He took one look at her pale face and immediately went on high alert. “What is it?”
She sucked in a breath and squatted low to stare at the door handle.
He crouched next to her. “What are we looking at?”
“After the truck break in, I got paranoid,” she said softly. “I put a piece of tape on here from the handle to the wood of the door every time I leave so I can tell if someone’s tried to get in.”
The implication being that if someone had so much as tried to turn the handle, the tape would break off.
The tape was broken off.
Rising to his full height he pulled her up with him. The lock didn’t appear broken or tampered with, but it was a cheap lock, one that anyone could pick with relative ease.
She tried the handle and it opened. “Shit.”
Pulling his gun, he nudged her back and entered first. He walked through the entire place, checking behind doors, her closet, under her bed, the window ledge—which didn’t take more than thirty seconds.
While he did this, Ivy stood in the middle of her apartment, hands on hips, expression carefully blank as she stared at him
. “I know most women would disagree with me, but I like your cowboy costume better than the cop costume.”
“It’s not a costume,” he said, slipping the gun away. “It’s who I am. What’s missing?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think anything’s missing.”
He moved toward her until they were toe-to-toe, and gently tilted her face to his. Her eyes weren’t soft and warm now. They were iced. “Ivy—”
“I don’t need to call the cops. I’m looking right at one, and I don’t even know what to tell you, so there’s no reason to have them out here for nothing.”
“The truck break-in was one thing,” he said. “But this is now a pattern.”
She turned away from him. “I live in a shitty area and we both know that. It’s random. Just let it go. It’s late and I have to be up soon, so I need to go to bed.”
“Want me to stay?”
“No.”
She was holding herself rigid. Her entire body one big stubborn nerve. “I could take the couch,” he said. “No pressure.”
“No, it’s okay.” Her back was still to him, but she was hugging herself now. “I’ll be fine.”
He gently turned her to face him. She wasn’t fine. She was pissed and shaken, and that was all over her face. But she was also obstinate and full of pride and hated to accept help of any kind. Pushing her would get him nowhere. Which meant that he was going to spend the rest of the night in his car watching over her from there.
Chapter 15
You’ve got more in you
At kickboxing the next morning, Ivy was working her newfound frustrations out on the bag. She was in a zone when she realized everyone was looking at her.
Stopping, gasping for breath, Ivy relaxed her stance and stared at Tae, Sadie, and Haley. “What?”
“You seem a little . . . fierce this morning,” Sadie said.
“She means kickass,” Tina piped up from the front of the room. “Seriously kickass. And speaking of that, who’s ass are you kicking this morning?”
Whoever had broken into her truck.
Whoever had broken into her apartment.
And then there was the serious frustration bubbling just beneath her skin. Sexual frustration. Which was all on Kel, so maybe she was also kicking his ass a little bit too. Metaphorically anyway. “Just burning calories,” she said, swiping her sweaty forehead with her arm. “Now if you don’t mind, are we having tea or working out?”
Tina laughed with sheer delight. “Working out, sweetness, and you’re right. Let’s do double time.”
Everyone but Ivy groaned.
The sun had made an appearance when she left the gym and took the bus to her food truck. She’d been there maybe three whole minutes when she heard footsteps outside. They were easy and unhurried, and recognizing the quiet unruffled energy, she stuck her head out the back door.
“‘Morning,” Kel said.
She hadn’t slept a single wink, she felt like she’d been run over by a Mack Truck, twice, and she had a headache from said lack of sleep. So no, it wasn’t anything close to a good morning.
Until he held out a coffee. The ridiculously expensive coffee she treated herself to only very occasionally. She stared at it and then at him. He didn’t look like he needed caffeine in spite of the fact he’d played bodyguard, staying in his truck in front of her building last night. All night.
He took in her expression and waited with calm patience, clearly not willing to let her get away with not voicing her thoughts out loud. She sighed. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what exactly?”
She gestured to the coffee she hadn’t yet taken from him.
“You mean being nice to you?” He shrugged. “I like you.”
She just looked at him.
“Blame your sunshine-y sweet nature,” he said dryly. “And don’t worry, I’m not expecting anything in return. Take the coffee, Ivy.”
She did, and sipped cautiously but didn’t burn her tongue. It was the perfect temperature for gulping, so she did exactly that. A minute later, she drew a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Thank you,” she said, refraining from letting him know that in that very second, she’d have given him anything he wanted.
“Was there any trouble after I left last night?” he asked.
“Yeah, some guy was parked out front of my place all night.”
Their gazes met. His easygoing expression never changed, and she realized that though she’d thought she was the master of hiding in plain sight, she was nothing but an apprentice, because the real master stood right in front of her. “I almost called the cops,” she told him. “But they don’t like to go out to that area if they don’t have to.”
“A good reason to get into that condo in Caleb’s new building sooner rather than later.”
“I’m working on it. And the neighborhood’s not that bad,” she said. “I’ve—”
“—Lived in worse,” he finished for her. “Yeah, I know.”
She laughed a little, not sure if she was flattered or uncomfortable at how well he’d come to know her in such a short time. She began prep work for breakfast. “If it makes you feel better,” she said while she chopped, sliced, and diced. “I’m hopefully moving soon.”
He smiled.
“What?”
“You look excited whenever you talk about your new place. It’s cute.”
“I’m not cute. Take it back.”
“Can’t. Cuz you are cute.”
“No. Cute’s for . . .” She searched her brain. “Puppies and kittens.”
“And sexy women who don’t even realize they’re sexy.”
Shaking her head—and ignoring a serious tummy flutter—she plated three breakfast tacos and handed them over.
Kel looked down at the plate in surprise. “What’s this?”
“Maybe I’m trying to be nice to you too.”
His dark eyes warmed. “I didn’t ask.”
“I know. But I also know you love my food.” Which she took great pride in. She was also a sucker for anyone who appreciated her, so she gestured to the stool in the corner. “Sit. If I know Caleb, it’ll be the only time you sit all day.”
He did and immediately dug in, letting out a rough, heartfelt groan, the sound of pleasure pulling at spots inside her she’d forgotten about. She wondered if he made that same sound when he was in bed with a woman.
Not that she was ever going to find out.
Unless . . . that was what he chose as his spoils from last night’s bet. Because it would be rude to back out on a bet, right? Rolling her eyes at herself, she turned back to her prep work.
“Tell me about the condo.”
“You’ve been to the building. You work in that building,” she said. “You probably know more than I do.”
“I like the light in your eyes when you talk about it.”
More tummy squishing. “It’s a great location. It’s got a great view. And the kitchen . . .” She couldn’t hold back a grin. “Once I get in there and start cooking, you’ll have to come over—” She broke off as she realized he’d be gone.
His smile faded. “I would’ve liked to see you in it.”
Their gazes met and held. She shrugged off the unmistakable sense of longing and kept working.
When he finished eating, he cleaned up after himself and then removed the knife from her hand before pulling her into him. Then he kissed her. It was a pretty great kiss, and when their tongues touched, she moaned.
Pulling back, eyes on fire, he took a deep breath, like it’d been hard to stop kissing her. “If you have any problems,” he said. “Any at all, I want you to call me and let me help you take care of it.”
“Always the cop.”
He smiled against her mouth, taking her bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a naughty little tug that caused a secondary reaction deep inside. “Not always.”
She had to bite back another moan. “Okay,” she managed breathlessly. “So when you’re not
a cop or cowboy, you’re . . . what? A Boy Scout?”
Cupping the back of her head, he held her still and kissed her again, taking his sweet-ass time as he took her completely apart, and she had her answer.
He was no Boy Scout.
“Thanks for breakfast,” he said, and stuffed some cash into her tip jar before leaving.
When he was gone, she let out a long shaky breath and turned to eye the money. He’d left her twice as much as what she would’ve charged for the food he’d eaten.
Kel worked through lunch. There was a lot to do to get Caleb’s security systems in place and up and running, and eight days of the two weeks he had here were already gone.
Caleb had given him an office to use when he wasn’t onsite at any of the ten different projects he had going in the city. Kel was there now, neck deep in architecture and engineering plans, when a shadow fell across his desk.
Lifting his head, he found his sister.
Remy was bundled up and wearing one of those baby sling thingies, with Harper strapped onto the front of her, facing out. When she caught sight of Kel, she smiled a big gummy smile that allowed a long line of drool to escape as she began to bounce in excitement.
Heart. Melted.
“Hey, cutie,” he said, rising to his feet as she squirmed and wriggled. Coming around his desk, he bent to press a kiss to the top of her head.
“And what about me?” Remy asked, taking a seat with a sigh of relief.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as well, making her laugh.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, leaning back against his desk. She, Ethan, and Harper had come over to Caleb and Sadie’s every night he’d been there—except for last night when he hadn’t been home—so they’d had lots of time together. “Everything okay?”
She stroked a hand over Harper’s soft peach fuzz and smiled. “Everything’s great for me. I’m here about you.”
“Why?”
She sighed. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. I know about Mom.”
Kel took a beat. “What?”
“I know that you ran into her at the diner where she’s working these days. She took the night shift there because it pays extra and they’re trying to save up to move a little closer to their only granddaughter.”
