Page 8 of Unexpected Temptation

“You’ve got enough staff. I can see that. You’ve probably got volunteers, too. I don’t need a handout. I need a place to keep my head down and work and get paid, and … and…” She’s getting flustered. There’s a strange part of me that almost steps forward and gently touches her shoulder as if I’ve slipped into a different damn reality, but I don’t. I just stand there. “I need to get to work. I’m going to be late.”

“I can give you a ride.”

This isn’t anything romantic. She’s a young woman who needs a helping hand, that’s all. It’s like when I give Simone a ride when her car is busted. Except I’ve never noticed how Simone’s shirt opens to reveal a hint of cleavage like I am with Maya.

“Really?” she says. “Why?”

I shrug. “Why not? I was going to head out for lunch anyway.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks. You’re not a serial killer, are you?”

I flash her a smile. “Not in the way you think.”

That smile is winning the fight over those kissable lips of hers. Hell, I can acknowledge that much, at least. She’s got lips I canveryeasily imagine myself kissing.

“What doesthatmean, huh?” she says, talking to Loki as she strokes him.

“Marine. Dog handler. A few tours.”

She looks up. “Are you bragging?”

“Listing my credentials, ma’am.”

We’re both half-smiling, and I can’t tell if this is tension or something else. I shouldn’t evenwantto tell.After last time,I shouldn’t keep thinking about all that crap. Then again, I’m not sure what sort of psycho I’d have to benotto think about it from time to time.

“That’s cool, really,” she says. “Also, well, I hate to say this. I love Loki’s visits, but isn’t it far for him?”

I shrug. “He finds his way, but you’re right. I know how he’s been doing it now, anyway.”

“How?”

“I thought you were in a rush.”

She looks at the floor and then seems to summon her courage. There’s this daring glint in her eyes as they meet mine. If I were a different man, I might let myself admire that glint, even obsess over it. I might go insane over it. I might lose my mind and start thinking a bunch of unrealistic things.

“And I thoughtyouwere giving me a ride.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing if I wanted to. Opening the gate, I tell Loki, “Stay, boy.”

He whines but sits his butt down and watches as I walk Maya out toward the exit.

“You don’t have to do this,” she says.

“I do,” I reply as we walk across the lot.

I wonder how she’d react if I told her I was watching her last night or if I told her where I went after, what I did, and who I did it for. I don’t have to think about any of that nasty crap as I open the passenger-side door of my old GT.

“Nice wheels.”

“Most people tell me it’s time I got an upgrade.”

Maya shakes her head. “I’m just happy for the ride. Thank you.”

When she climbs in, she brushes by me. It’s not crazily close, but enough for me to get a whiff of perfume, or maybe it’s just her shampoo or justher—just her smell. Suddenly, I want to press my face against her neck, kiss, taste her.

I quickly close the door. My manhood tingling from that tiny interaction. That’s not good. I don’t want to get a hard-on in front of her. Trying to get my head in gear, I climb inside the driver’s seat.

“Type in the address,” I say, nodding to the center console. My car may be old but I’ve given it some modern features.

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