Page 2 of Mensa's Match

Thank God, I sat in full view of the front door.

I ducked my head down in hopes they wouldn’t notice me. Many would assume that my FBI training developed my habit of sitting with my back to the wall, but Quantico didn’t teach me that, Aunt Nadia did.

Aunt Nadia taught me a lot of things. Like not taking shit from anyone. Like living life to the fullest. And most recently, embracing life’s curveballs and seeing the silver lining – though that lesson was still a struggle.

“Are you listening to me, Whitney?” Ben demanded.

“Can’t say that I am. We’re done. Stop calling me, Ben.”

I ended the call, and my order was announced. My stomach growled as I sat down with my two slices of mushroom and pepperoni.

I heard the bells tinkle again, looked up, and sighed. This couldn’t be happening. I specifically came to Bayou Moon because it was a pizzeria. He wasn’t supposed to be here, seeing as how he carried an EpiPen for his dairy allergy. Nevertheless, Kenneth “Mensa” Ragstone sauntered inside, and my heart rate accelerated.

Nothing about this was right. I gravitated to the good guys. I didn’t go for the bad boys. I only wanted to see Mensa one way: him walking in front of me with his hands behind his back, wearing handcuffsIhad put on him.

Yet, that wasn’t to be. I hadn’t been sent here to investigate him. I’d been ordered to befriend a judge’s daughter. The judge was suspected of defrauding the Social Security Administration, and other things.

Over the course of the investigation, I’d come across Mensa’s file. My superiors thought he might be in on the fraud, but wefound no evidence to support that. In fact, aside from a drunk-and-disorderly when he turned twenty-one, it appeared that Mensa hadn’t so much as jaywalked in the past fifteen years. Rumor had it he came by his road name due to his brilliance at not getting caught doing anything. He wasn’t a book-smart genius. He was a genius thanks to his street-smarts.

Thus, the idea of bringing him in appealed to me. He may not have been caught, but my gut said he’d committed plenty of crimes. That made my attraction to him all the more irritating and baffling.

My damned hormones were getting the best of me – had to be.

Nothing else explained my eyes seeking his whenever we were in the same room, or the fact I went out of my way to do the opposite of whatever he wanted, like when he wanted me out of the Riot MC clubhouse back in November, but I’d stuck around until after midnight.

Now that I’d resigned, I had no reason to give a damn about Mensa. Hell, other than Aunt Nadia and her shop, and that my assignment turned into a genuine friendship with Riley – a definite silver lining – I had no reason to stay in town… but I couldn’t decide where I wanted to go. Or what I wanted to do.

You want to do Mensa, a little voice inside my head suggested.

I clenched my teeth.

I despised that I lusted over him. He wasn’t my type, and not just because he was an outlaw biker. My prior lovers had been over six feet tall, clean-cut men. Sometimes they were built, other times they had the beginnings of the classic ‘Dad bod.’ I didn’t care as long as a man was funny and friendly. The ability to take instruction or at least listen to what I wanted in the bedroom didn’t hurt, either.

Mensa didn’t qualify on most of those counts.

According to the dossier I had compiled on him, he stood only two inches taller than my five-foot-eight-inches.

His brown eyes weren’t soulful, no, they were so cold he could stare down the devil himself. When we argued, some foolish part of me craved the moment that I earned that stare-down.

The way his wavy hair curled along his neck, I wanted to run my fingers through it and give it a good tug. He probably wouldn’t go for that, which made me want it even more.

He was built, but he didn’t flaunt it.

He wasn’t the least bit friendly to me, which meant I had no idea if he was funny – though he made his MC brothers laugh plenty.

And obviously, I had no idea about his behavior in the bedroom.

Hard to say what I hated more – the fact that I was attracted to him or the fact that he could be so freaking attractive with his messy hair and scruffy beard.

While I ate my pizza, I noted where each Riot MC brother sat at their table. Mensa had his back to me. I had an excellent profile view of Gamble and Brute. Har faced me, but his focus was on the other men.

I sipped my Dr. Pepper to wash down my last bite while I read an article on my phone. Someone pulled the chair across from me out from under the table. I glanced up to see Mensa sitting down. That was unexpected, but I kept myself from showing a reaction.

“I’ve been looking into you,” he said.

I lifted my chin an inch.

His nostrils flared. “But I can’t find anything.”

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