Page 74 of Mensa's Match

She laughed. “You bugged him too, that was clear.”

“True. We’re oil and water sometimes.”

One of her brows arched. “Doesn’t seem that way now. He helped you move, for heaven’s sake.”

I shook my head. “That was his way of keeping an eye on me.”

She scoffed. “Okay, but word to the wise, I’d be honest with yourself no matter how much you lie to the rest of us.”

We stepped outside the mall, and I paused to scan the parking lot.

“What’s wrong?” Riley asked.

I turned toward her and pasted a smile on my face. “I have a strange feeling we’re being watched. Stay calm.”

She gave a single nod. “I’m pretty sure Har had a prospect follow me. I noticed him back at Hard Pressed. He’s over there smoking a cigarette.”

A tall man in a cut stood under an oak tree. That wasn’t the direction from which I sensed the threat though.

The doors behind us opened and a couple wandered out while carrying on an animated conversation.

“Come on,” Riley said.

A whoosh of cool air hit me from behind when the doors opened again.

A man stopped, right beside me. I smelled the pungent aroma of cigarette smoke before I saw he wore a cut.

“You find your car, sweet thing?”

His name patch caught my eye.

Rod.

“Yes. No thanks to you.”

I stepped forward.

He grabbed my elbow. “Don’t be a bitch.”

My eyes locked with his, and I tamped down my urge to mouth off. I couldn’t give away how much I knew or it would jeopardize Wyatt’s cover. “Your offer at the Twisted Talons might have been nice, but shooting at people is a hard pass.”

An insincere smile spread across his face. “That was just a misunderstanding—”

“Let go of my woman,” Mensa ordered in a very deep and supremely authoritative voice.

Rod glanced from me to Mensa. “Your woman? She ain’t claimed.”

“Get your fucking hand off her.”

Rod ignored him and looked at me. “You belong to him?”

I wrenched my elbow free. “Believe it or not, I belong to myself.”

“Woman,” Mensa growled.

I ignored Mensa growling at me and glared at Rod. “Why are you still walking free? You shot at people in a bar.”

He looked at me like I was slow. “You don’t need to worry about that, baby. What’s your name?”

---