Page 45 of August

“Noted. So how we gonna draw them out? They could be anywhere.”

August smiled and took another sip. “We’re gonna bait ’em.”

***

Gigi stood at the doorway, frozen. Eavesdropping hadn’t been her intent, but August’s words had made her heart stop and her feet turn to stone. He ended the call and placed his phone on the counter.

Summoning her courage, she stalked into the kitchen. “Bait who?”

August glanced up as she approached, one eyebrow lifted. “The cartel,” he said, nonchalantly.

She folded her arms across her chest, not caring that the action tightened the material of his T-shirt across her nipples.

His gaze landed on her chest and his nostrils flared. Was he ever not aroused? And why did that realization excite her?

“That’s a terrible idea,” she said.

His smile was slow. “Wearing my shirt was a terrific idea.” He rounded the island, his hands reaching for her.

She held up a palm. “Ah, ah. Don’t change the subject.”

“I’m not changing the subject. There’s only one worth talking about—taking you back to bed.” He bent his head and nipped her earlobe.

She smacked his chest with a solid thwack, pushing him back an inch. “Um, nope. What’s going on?”

August blew a breath through his lips, and his hands closed around her waist. She wished she’d put on pants because she wouldn’t have enough resolve to stop him if his fingers wandered under the shirt.

Please, wander.

No, no, no. He was planning something dangerous and she needed to find out what. “August.” Her tone held a veiled threat. As if she could threaten him when he was more than twice her size.

He must have realized how ridiculous she sounded because his lips twitched. “I like it when you go all authority on me.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m not sure what to think about that.”

“Think about you...” He brushed his lips over her jaw and captured her mouth. “On top.”

His fingers swept beneath the hem of her shirt, but she leapt out of his hold. “Hang on a minute. I haven’t even had breakfast. Or coffee.”

“Since when do you drink coffee?” He advanced on her like a lion ready to pounce.

She moved in a circle away from him. “Since someone kept me up late.”

He chuckled and held up both hands. “Fine. I’m not a monster. Have your coffee and then lose the shirt.” He reached into the cupboard and handed her a mug.

She accepted it and inched toward the coffeemaker. He folded his arms and stayed back. A silent truce. “One,” she said, as she filled her cup, “you are a monster. Monstrously big and scary. Two, you’re evading my question and I’m insulted you don’t trust me.” She took a sip and screwed up her face. August opened his mouth for rebuttal, but she held up her free hand to stop him. “Okay, three, this shit’s gross.”

“You’d probably like it with sugar and cream. That’s coming with the grocery order.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Stop trying to distract me. Four. This shirt isn’t going anywhere. Now let’s circle back to point number two. How about you tell me exactly what baiting the cartel involves.”

He rocked onto his heels then back to the balls of his feet. “All right. I was trying to distract you. I have something to tell you.”

Panic seized her heart. She lurched forward, and hot coffee sloshed onto her hand. She hissed and set the cup on the counter then turned to August. “What happened? Ivy—”

“She’s fine.” He caught her wrist and held her hand over the sink. “You burned yourself.”

Her skin sizzled, but all she wanted was for him to cut to the damn chase. “It’s okay.” She tried to shake him off, but he held fast.

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