Dad stares into the distance, his vision unfocused, and nods slowly like he is acknowledging Massimo’s words, but it’s obvious his mind is elsewhere. There is an awkward stretch of silence before Massimo finishes his coffee and rinses the cup out, leaving it in the sink.

“Well, I better get going,” he says quickly. “I’ll catch up with you later, Enzo.” He brushes past me, giving my body one more once-over and a quick nod.

“Lakey.”

“We better get going, too,Bella,” Dad says to me while scooping up his wallet and keys from the kitchen counter.

The drive to the prison passes quickly. Our long drives usually do, though. It helps that Dad always lets me control the music. Sometimes, I even see him tapping his fingers on the steering wheel or on his thigh in time with my eclectic taste in music. It very rarely happens, but it’s a great feeling to know Dad likes some of the music I do. It is also good to know that sometimes he can let go and enjoy life every now and then, even if it’s in fleeting moments. I feel like he is always so serious, uptight almost.

My thoughts float back to Blaze, and my body instantly heats. I wonder what his time was like on the inside. I have only ever heard bad stories from Massimo and my father, and obviously, what I see on television. I feel like everything Dad and Massimo say is to try to scare me, and everything on television is majorly dramatized.

We pull into the prison’s parking lot, and Dad parks directly across from the entrance door. My hands become a little clammy, and it has me wondering how the thought of seeing this guy I don’t remember very well and barely know can make me this nervous. I rub my palms on the sides of my legs as we get out of the car, trying to make it look like I am adjusting my jeans. Yeah, right. They are so tight they are not going anywhere, but itis a good excuse to wipe my hands.

We round the front of the car and lean back on the grill, standing in silence. It is not an awkward silence, though. Dad calls someone from his cell phone, pacing while he talks, working like he always is, and I am getting more caught up and lost in my thoughts of what to expect of Blaze.

The sound of the prison door opening pulls me out of my thoughts, and my mouth opens slightly of its own accord. How did I ever think I could forget him?

A man likethat.

How could I forget the way my whole body used to respond to seeing him? The way it’s respondingnow.

Even from this distance, I can make out the smallest details, including dark hair, dark eyes glistening in the sunlight, massive biceps and forearms visible through his tight shirt, and thighs that pull his jeans a little too tight. He has definitely gottenbigger. My body’s response ramps up tenfold. My heart races, and heat flows through my veins. Goose bumps pop up all over my body, butterflies fill my stomach, and there’s a faint throb in my pussy.

He is holding his thick jacket and a wad of papers, probably his release forms, in one hand while he moves his other hand to shade his eyes from the sun’s glare. Even the pouty smile when he sees us is clear. He is even better looking than I remember. My nipples harden, and I know it’s not from the slight breeze.

I gulp.

My mouth has gone dry.

Shit. I am in trouble.

Chapter Three

Blaze

The automatic doors open, allowing me to finally leave this hellhole. I take one giant breath, filling my lungs with sweet, fresh air. Although it’s not as good as country air, it’s still much better than the stuffy and stale prison. It’s so fucking good to be out. Now that I’m a free man, I don’t know what I’ll do first. But freedom itself is, well, freeing.

Actually, I do know what is first on my agenda—finding out who set me up. I know I was set up and have a hunch about who should be at the top of my list. It’s just a matter of getting them to confess or just sitting and watching them dig their own grave by screwing up again. This time I’ll be ready.

It’s such a beautiful day. It’s like the higher powers knew today should be a good day. The sun is so bright I have to shield my eyes from its glare. Taking a quick look around, I catch sight of Enzo and his daughter across the lot.

What was her name again? Lucy? Lake? That’s right, it’s Lake.

Her name sounds like a song calling to me, pulling me in.

Man, it looks like she grew up—allwoman now—just enough curves in all the delicious places. Shit! I can’t have thoughts like this. Enzo trusts me. I’ve got to keep a lid on my hormones, but after six years of becoming incredibly well acquainted with my hand, it’s a little difficult not to look at her like a starved wolf.

I casually approach them, enjoying the sun’s heat warming my back.

When I reach them, Enzo puts his cell away and gives me a bro hug with two strong pats on the back.

“It’s been a while, brother. It’s good to see you. It looks like some time did you good. It appears as though the only thing youdid in there was eat and work out,” Enzo jokes before turning to Lake.

“Yeah, pretty much.” I laugh.

“You remember Lake, right?” Before I can even think about my reply, he adds, “She was just a kid the last time you saw her.”

Lake tries to cover a wince before composing herself and gives me a welcoming smile with a shadow of something else.