Page 56 of Stockman's Sandstorm

‘Well, if I told you that, I’m pretty sure you’d slap me.’ Leo’s mouth shifted, his eyes clearly displaying a very hungry look that trailed up and down Bree’s curves. ‘But I don’t mind a bit of rough play. You?’

‘I just love how you bring violence so fast into our conversations.’

Again, he laughed, his smile handsome with that whole dark mobster vibe to him, as he loosened his silk tie. ‘I’m here for a hat. Care to help me?’

‘Sure. Let me fold some newspaper into a sailor’s hat so you can float on outta here.’

‘Bwee, a-at?’ Mason struggled with saying the letter h, but he held out his hat to Bree as Harper strained to keep him on her hip.

‘You keep your hat on, buddy. You stay with Harper.’ Bree’s eyes flared at Harper to leave. Now.

‘I’ve got you, Mason. Let’s get ready for another fun car ride.’ Harper tucked him into his pram, wishing the young woman behind the counter would ring up the bill for her clothes faster.

‘Is that your boy?’ Leo pointed at Mason in the pram.

Bree’s glare darkened, as did her tone, layered thick with maternal protectiveness. ‘None of your business.’

‘Come on, Bree.’ Leo held up his hands. ‘We’re in town, its neutral territory.’

‘And where is your little band of balding gorillas?’

‘Where is Charlie?’

They both stared at each other, the tension thickening the air.

It was hard to tell if Bree and Leo were mortal enemies or were about to kiss. The chemical love-hate attraction was steamy.

‘Can’t you play nice, Bree?’ His voice was deep and dark.

‘You’d get bored if I did.’

His lips twitched, and he wiped his hand over his jaw as if to stop the smile. But the shine in his eyes showed how highly amused this man was. His well-tailored suit fit perfectly on his cuffs, and the length on his legs, in a rich deep blue material. A very fine Cartier watch completed the ensemble that would have Harper’s suit-loving father asking for the tailor’s details.

‘Come on, Bree, I could really use your opinion.’

‘I’m sure my opinion of anything in your world has the weight of a zebra finch fart. Wait. I meant to say that the other way around, more along the lines of: I’ll write down your concerns and send it to a politician who cares?’

‘I need a new hat and I saw how well you—’

‘You’d been spying on us?’ She waggled her finger at him. ‘You do that, huh?’

‘Only on what’s worth looking at.’ Again, his eyes slow-crawled over Bree. Harper felt naked for her friend.

‘Wait, for a minute there I thought you were asking me to play personal shopper for you. Did I hear that right?’

‘You do have good taste, and I admire your style, both on and off the station.’ He held his hand over his heart, even bowing his head to her. ‘I’m being sincere about the hat.’

‘Fine. Let me go get you a bucket big enough to hide your entire head. With luck you’ll suffocate.’ Bree turned on her heels, and the man followed her, watching Bree’s hip sway to the back wall.

Bree gave Harper a hurry-up and get-out look. Even though she seemed annoyed, there was some indication that the redhead was enjoying this game as much as Leo. It was better than watching politicians who hated each other banter with sarcastic niceties. They did that for the adrenaline rush and votes, which was just a part of the game of politics. But what was Bree’s game plan?

Bree stood before the wall of hats. ‘This one.’ She plucked a black one off the wall.

He took the hat and slid it on. ‘Too tight.’

‘Well, they don’t make them big enough for criminal masterminds like yourself.’

‘Bree? Come on. Let’s play nice.’

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