Page 8 of June 7

"Liz, I forgot to tell you the other day. We can't park over here anymore." The woman motioned with her head toward the building. "Someone bought the place, so all pool employees and visitors must park on the other side. There're enough open spots. The pool is only at half capacity today."

"Seriously?" Liz glared in his direction. "It's a public street."

He'd had enough and stepped forward. "See the doors? How do you figure we can access the building with your car blocking the entrance?"

Liz scoffed. Her upper lip twitched before she said, "Am I talking to you?"

The other woman stepped in front of him, putting her back to Bane and whispering to her friend. Thirty seconds later, the woman pushed Liz toward her car and stood on the sidewalk while the woman drove toward the other side of the building.

He viewed the woman while she took care of business. She had a firm, round ass, and hips that some would say were too large for her slim figure. But, he'd say they were perfect for holding on to—hell, he'd take another night of sleeping with her to get another handful.

The woman pivoted and faced him. He dropped his gaze to her chest. That swimsuit was holding melon-sized breasts in the top. He had a desire to see them spill out of the material.

"Sorry about that." She put her hand on her forehead. "I'll put a notice up on the bulletin board at the entrance of the building to let everyone know they can't park over here anymore. Though, I'll warn you, not many people stop and read the board as they come inside to swim."

He dipped his chin, trying to figure her out. She was chipper.

She smiled, going up on her toes. "Let me know if you have any problems keeping the sidewalk clear." She plopped back down on the heels of her feet. "I'm Daisy. Daisy Hill."

"Daisy," he muttered, rolling her name on his tongue.

She smiled wider. "What's your name?"

Baby blue eyes looked back at him.

He grunted. "Bane."

She had no idea he'd spent the night with her less than a week ago. Pulling late nights lately, working on the building, meant he wouldn't get home until close to midnight. Her side of the duplex was always dark.

"It's nice to meet you, Bane." She raised her brows and half turned toward the pool. "I'm here Monday through Friday, nine to four. Liz—the woman who just moved her car, works from four to eight each night." She laughed. "Except for Thursdays when she comes in early, like now, to swim before she works. She's full of attitude, but that's Liz just being Liz. Don't let her scare you. She's super nice."

He grunted in disagreement. Daisy laughed, smiling at him as if his lack of conversation wouldn't scare her off. What was wrong with her?

He widened his stance. "You're too damn happy."

Her bubbly personality was the exact opposite of what he'd witnessed the night he caught her crying outside the duplex. Maybe she was a sad drunk.

He knew guys like that. Get one drink in them, and they whined about their third ex-wife and the dog they had as a kid. He also knew guys who turned as mean as rattlesnakes when drinking.

She dragged her gaze from his mouth to his eyes. "Excuse me?"

He ran his hand across his jaw. "You're happy."

Something was off. There was nothing to be happy about.

Behind him, he could feel the others listening in—the pile of lumber forgotten as they honed in on cheap entertainment. Not wanting to share her with the others, he walked away from the door toward the pool with her.

"Oh, Liz is happy, too. She's just harder to get to know. But once you know her, she'd give you the shirt off her back." She glanced at him. "That was a figure of speech. She'd be more likely to give you a twenty dollar bill to buy another shirt."

Her gaze dipped to his chest again. He scratched his bare stomach. She sucked in her breath and looked away.

He stopped. Out of his peripheral vision, he watched Jagger pull the truck out of the stall.

"I better get inside. The lessons will start soon, and I need to be there to supervise." She walked backward. "Have a good day, Bane."

He watched her turn and jog toward the steps, round the corner, and disappear from sight. He grunted. She wasn't his type.

She was too cheerful and happy.

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