Page 57 of The Huntress and Her Hound

“Well, I mean, that is pretty devious, given the rules. But no, I wasn’t out concocting revenge porn or something. I didn’t have the right equipment to do that much.”

“Hmm.” I lean back against the booth as the waiter drops off chips and queso, and then takes our order. I admire Jude while he nonchalantly orders and then hands over our menus. Once again, it’s such a small, normal move, but I realize right then that the world not noticing him is such a shame. Everything the man does is shockingly attractive.

“What else do you want to know?” Jude picks up his water and takes a sip. “My social security number? I have no secrets that I won’t tell you.”

I smile, but my stomach churns at the mention of secrets. He might be an open book, but...

I’ll never be.

Chapter 21

The Hound

She’s hiding so much. I can see it in her face when she listens to me share my life. I can see it in the way her eyes darken when I mention anything about my past. She’s got hidden truths beneath her façade, and I have a feeling no one knows it all.

But I fucking want to.

I’m going to.

She’s quiet through the rest of dinner, appearing to be consumed by the chicken tacos in front of her. But I know there’s more than that going on in her brain. I also know that if I go digging, she’s going to close off completely. I haven’t figured out the key to unlocking her, but I will.

I’m already getting close with the men that she surrounds herself with—and now that two have died after seeing her, I have so much to figure out. However, I’m pretty sure the key to that lies in her past, and that is something that’s buttoned up tight.

And clearly by the work of a professional.

“Ready for work?” I ask her as I finish signing the receipt and slide it away. “Looks like you’ll be a little early.” I check my watch, and then smile at her. I know I’m a possessive asshole, but honestly, I can’t trust her. Not yet.

“Yeah, I guess,” she says with a shrug as we slide out.

“Your friend with the blue hair—”

“Sarah, and she’s a lesbian, so don’t get any ideas.” Cher eyes me, her tone suddenly sharp and threatening.

I chuckle darkly, my cock stirring at the vile jealousy in her eyes. “I was going to ask if you met her at work or if you knew her before.”

“Oh.” She blushes, looking away. “I met her at work. We don’t hang out much outside of work, but she’s a good friend.”

“Like meet up in an alleyway kind of friend.”

“I told you, she was giving me a book.” She rolls her eyes and lets out a sharp sigh—like she’s annoyed by the fact we both know there was way more to it than book. Even if I can’t prove it, I’m no fucking idiot.

“Right.” I reach for her hand, but she stiffens this time. Fuck. Did I trigger her somehow? Trying to feel out this woman is like trying not to set off a stick of dynamite when you’re made of fire. I’m rusty with romance maybe, but I’m not fucking rusty with figuring people out.

“So how are you going to lie to Henry about picking me up?” She doesn’t pull her hand from mine, but also doesn’t interlace her fingers like before.

“I don’t know yet. I’ll figure it out.”

“You’re not going to stay the whole time, right?”

Wrong.

“Nah, I’ll give you your space.”

She nods, but I can’t read anything beyond that. We make it to the bar, and she pulls away from me.

I tug her back. “Have a nice shift.”

She audibly swallows as my lips graze her forehead. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll see you...later.”

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