Page 1 of Bad Guys Need Love Too

CHAPTER 1

Stalking is an art.

Not many people knew that. It had a pretty bad reputation, after all. All the assholes who stalked and hurt people made sure ofthat.

Butgoodstalkers, the ones who appreciate the artistry and commitment it requires,protectpeople; they don’t harm them.

Ren Solace was currently stalking four people. He kept tabs on his fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Fulkerson, who had made sure he was allowed into the school early every day to shower when his foster parents didn’t pay their utility bills because they’d spent all their money on drugs. She’d also fostered his love of reading. So, he happily watched over her and made sure her dead beat son didn’t squander her retirement money.

He stalked his friend Tenley and her husband, Knox. Tenley was the best con artist Ren had ever met and needed someone to make sure none of her enemies ever got too close. Her husband tried to protect her, of course, but he was mostly useless in a criminal situation. His brain just didn’t work like Ren’s did.Knox didn’t see outsiders—anyone outside Ren’s small trust circle—as potential threats. He inherently trusted people.

Ren cringed at the thought. Trust was the quickest way to end up bloody, beaten, or dead. When Ren died, it certainly wasn’t going to be because he’dtrustedthe wrong person.

But that wasn’t the point. Thepointwas that he trusted everyone he was stalking with his life.

Even Lark Shaw.

Unlike Mrs. Fulkerson, Tenley, and Knox, Lark probably didn’t remember him. They’d only exchanged a handful of words ages ago, but it had been enough to earn her his undying loyalty. She was one of the only genuinely good people Ren had ever met, and he’d guard her for as long as she lived.

Even if she had no idea he was doing it.

See, the real problem Ren had, the one that kept him from telling Lark she was on his list of people to protect, was her beauty. She was so damn beautiful it was annoying, really. He didn’t think he’d be able to think straight if she turned her brilliant blue eyes his way, or hit him with the full wattage of her sunny smile.

All Ren had going for him was his mind. He needed it to be clear. Lives depended on it.

Which was why he usually relied on the hidden camera he had pointed at her house (plus street cams and the two he’d aimed at the shop where she worked) to make sure Lark was safe. Seeing her in person was…a lot.

But today, he didn’t have a choice. His outdoor camera wasn’t enough anymore. He’d always been respectful of her privacy (asrespectful as a stalker could be), but now he needed a closer view.

Especially since someone on the dark web was looking for a hitman to take her out.

The call went out yesterday, and no one had taken the hit yet. The pay was mediocre, and contrary to popular belief, most hitmen had a code of ethics. A lot of them wanted nothing to do with hits on innocent people—especially women and children. So Ren wasn’t surprised no one had agreed to the job yet.

He was, however, shocked that anyone hatedLarkenough to want her dead.

She was a florist, for fuck’s sake. She smiled at everyone she passed. Even angry customers left the shop grinning after talking to her. She was the living, breathing, embodiment of sunshine. The world was a better place with her in it.

Which was why he was currently disguised as a city utilities worker, watching her tend to the jungle of potted and hanging plants she had on the front porch of her 1940s Craftsman bungalow from the front seat of a borrowed work van he’d parked across the street, looking for a place to hide a new camera, doing his best to ignore how pretty she looked in a gray hooded sweatshirt and black yoga pants.

And damn it, she looked so, so pretty.

Lark Shaw looked like she belonged on a tourist brochure for Sweden. Porcelain skin with a dusting of gingery freckles across her high cheekbones, thick blonde hair that fell in loose waves down to skim the middle of her back, big pale eyes that could look either blue or green depending on the lighting, delicately winged brows a shade or two darker than her hair…all in all,genetics had been kind to her. And that wasn’t even taking her body into account.

But Ren never failed to take her body into account, because it was every bit as stunning as her face. Every inch of her tall, curvy frame had been toned and conditioned during her regular sunrise yoga classes and twice weekly Pilates sessions at her local gym. Lark was strong and muscled enough that anyone looking to kidnap her would have a serious fight on their hands—a fact that never failed to turn Ren on. His girl was no wilting flower, that was for sure.

Except…she wasn’t his girl and never would be.

But there wasn’t much point in dwelling onthat.

A few minutes after she wandered back into the house, an arrest-me red Jag that screamedtiny dick energyscreeched to a halt in Lark’s driveway. Ren’s eyes narrowed on the fuckhead in the boring Navy suit who rolled out of it, talking on a headset like he was an air traffic controller or something.

Neal Cavenaugh. Age thirty-eight. Just made partner at the law firm of Rimm, Statler, & Burbank. He handled mostly corporate cases. No pro bono or defense work for this douchebag. No, he only worked for the highest bidder.

He was decent looking, Ren grudgingly admitted. He still had a head full of thick blond hair and a jawline he imagined was considered classically handsome. No tattoos, no piercings, average height, average build. Stayed fit playing racquetball with colleagues and clients at the local country club. In debt up to his eyeballs with a penchant for gambling—horses were his vice—and losing big. Living well beyond his means, even though he’d been bringing in a nice salary from the firm for years.

And he was Lark’s fiancé.

The word alone soured Ren’s stomach.Fiancé. Hell, Lark was so far out of this asshole’s league that thelightof her league would take a thousand years to shine on his sorry ass. They’d been dating—inexplicably, in Ren’s opinion—since she was in college. The fact that Lark, who volunteered at the children’s hospital and an animal shelter in her spare time, was about to leg shackle herself for all eternity tothisshitgibbon was revolting.

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