Page 9 of Ruthless Love

“You can definitely do better.”

Wow. She really is my mother. Who’s also clueless, like the rest of my family, that working for Coop isn’t how I make my money.

What can I say? The occasional covert consulting job has proven more lucrative than I’d care to admit. But I indulge her.

“I can?” Leaning an arm on the counter between us, I scan her big blue eyes. They draw me in with their honest expressiveness. “How’s that?”

“Well ...” She pulls in a breath, shifting her gaze from mine. “I’ve never been one to criticize a guy for aiming high, but come on. A nice guy like you has needs too. Right?”

Like pushing myself inside you until I’m balls deep? Definitely.

“Sure,” I say, not remotely understanding where she’s going with this, but still enjoying the way she bites her lip when she pauses.

“Look, I don’t know how much she’s paying you, but how about you dial down the age range and steer clear of Mrs. Janowitz.”

I’m barely listening, imagining my delectable neighbor’s body clinging to mine like Saran wrap. “Who?” I ask, trying to keep up with the conversation.

“Mrs. Janowitz. The blue-haired biddy you were just soliciting.”

Narrowing my eyes on hers, I draw out the word, making sure I heard her right. “So-li-ci-ting.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not a cop. I am an attorney, but more the corporate kind. Though I could definitely refer you. If you ever got in a bind.”

“Like, the kinky kind that requires an attorney?” I chuckle.

Pouty lips. Gorgeous body. Bookish brains. I’m fucking her right here on the counter if she’s not careful.

A change happens to the color of her eyes that’s subtle, but it’s there. The bright blue shifts several shades to greenish, and the pulse in her throat quickens just a hair.

“And if your schedule has, um, openings, I have a few friends who might be ... interested,” she says with a bashful grin.

“This feels like entrapment,” I say with a laugh.

Well, if the little baker girl thinks I’m a professional pussy pole, who am I to argue?

“So, you know where I might drum up some business, but you’re, um, asking for a friend?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean, I really do have friends who could use some male companionship.” She drops her gaze from the entertained penetration of my gaze and drains the last of her coffee from her cup.

“I appreciate the referral.” Patting my ass beneath the thin blanket, I say, “You know, I’m fresh out of business cards. But if you’re going to be my manager, we’ll have to discuss the terms. And make sure I’m covered under attorney-client privilege. Or is it privileges? Or benefits?”

She squirms in place, and I’m soaking in every bit of that rosy pink climbing the skin of her neck and her angelic face.

Her phone buzzes, and in an instant, her demeanor shifts, morphing into seriousness as she reads the text. Regret flashes across her face. “I have to go.”

I nod my understanding, but don’t like the change in her mood. I don’t know why, but I want her smile back. Now.

Losing the grip on my sanity, I can’t resist messing with her. “Don’t forget this.”

Having freed the tight knot, I hold out the blanket, waving it dramatically through the air before extending it to her across the counter. Her shocked response pleases me to no end.

That hint of color rising up her cheeks has deepened a few shades to a positively fuckable blush. Blinking rapidly in shock, she extends her hand.

Taunting her has become my new favorite pastime. “You don’t strike me as the shy type, neighbor.”

“I’m not,” she says with a huff, now covering her eyes with one hand as her other hand blindly chases mine.

We play tag for a minute, and each time her hand grazes the balled-up blanket, I swing it just out of reach.

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