Page 8 of Speed Trap

“I’ve got a job, and I’m— I’m good with where my career is right now.” Still that careful tone. The undertone of fear.Fucking Benson.

Sunny broke my gaze, dropping her head to hide behind the mass of curls. But she still hadn’t taken a step away from me though we were surrounded by plenty of space she could escape into.

Show me how to understand you, Princess.

Where was the fire I’d seen in her eyes the other day when I’d been breathing down her neck? Did I need to rage to get a reaction from her? What the hell Benson had done to ruina girl on his team in a season was beyond me. A streak of protectiveness flared through my veins.

“Uh uh. None of that, Coops.” I hooked a knuckle beneath her chin, drawing her back to me with a firm but gentle touch. “Tell me what’s not perfect about your job.”

“I—” She held my gaze, bringing her free hand up to wrap around my wrist, her nails grazing my skin. She gave an experimental tug, but I didn’t move.

“Tell me what it’s really like working for Benson. You saw what he did yesterday. And it’s not the first time, right? So tell me something that I can do better. Tell me what I need to do to get you to come to work for me, instead.”

A yell echoed across the track, then a second.

Sunny held my gaze for a moment longer, then stepped back, breaking the odd silence that fell between us. She inhaled a sharp breath, the pages pinned under her arm crumpling.

“I’m fine where I am, thank you, Hawk. But Benson doesn’t like his team talking to his competitors.”

“He’s got no secrets to share.” I smirked. “Benson talks himself up at every chance and acts like an absolute ass in between. The perfect boss, I’d say.”

The hails grew louder, and I picked out Benson’s slightly panicked voice in between them.

Sunny grinned, relocating our nearest star for me.

Could she be any more stunning?

She took a small step in my direction, then another until she stood a hair's breadth away, close enough that I could kiss her if I leaned down the smallest fraction. Though for the cheeky sparkle in her eyes that told me I’d regret that choice if I pushed her right now, the small divide between us may as well have been an abyss.

“That sounds just like someone else I know.” She flashed me a full smile.

Eyes sparkling as she turned on her heel, she looked over her shoulder, her lashes lowered the slightest amount. Her smile became less broad and more of the secret variety, rocking me back a second time as she crossed the track to Benson. His classical features twisted as he glared at her, tracking her every step.

His words were muted but his hands flew on their own in the space around her as soon as she reached him. Her spine stiffened beneath the deluge and it took everything I had not to follow her and defend her honor. My hands fisted at my sides. I pocketed them in an effort to plant myself and not follow her. Sunny, however, seemed to take his tantrum in her stride, stepping around her boss and ignoring him.

A stupid smile spread over my face until I turned away from the action and looked over at my own crew. Ryan stood out the front of our garage, his arms folded across his chest, shaking his head, though I couldn't tell if his glare was directed at Benson or at me.

I ignored them all, grinning a stupid ass smile I hoped the photographer missed, though he had no doubt taken a lion’s share of unauthorized shots while no one supervised him.

But none of that mattered. My gaze was fixed on the head of blonde curls that tumbled down her back to brush against that tight, perfect damn ass.

It was a good fucking day when Sunny Cooper flirted with you.

CHAPTER FOUR

SUNNY

My hands ached almost as much as my feet, but it was in a good way and for a good cause. People filled the soup kitchen seeking warmth on a freezing night when most businesses were already closed, and most of those wouldn’t admit the crowd we hosted tonight.

“We need another tureen filled, please.” I swiped the back of my hand over my hair where wayward strands frizzed into my eyes. I’d forgotten how badly my curls hated the moisture, but my discomfort was a small price to pay against the hunger of the one hundred and seventy starving bodies in the line that wound around the block outside. That wasn’t counting the onesinsidethe kitchen that ramped the temperature up a few extra degrees.

“You got it, Sunny.” Mick, my sister’s borrowed chef of the night, swung massive arms that better belonged in a wrestling ring my way.

So did the Michelin chef’s cooking style but then that was my sister's brainchild. Each major chef she could find to volunteer their time went on a monthly roster. Six hours a week. That’s what they gave, and that’s how the kitchen ran, along with generous off cuts from their restaurants.

On the nights we couldn’t get staff and I was in town, my sister and I cooked, and we managed but we had nothing compared to the army of chefs she pulled in. I’d worried when she first pitched me the idea but itworked.

With the crowd clamoring at my back I swapped out my empty metal soup tureen with the biggest smile I could muster. “Appreciate it.”

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