Page 48 of The Love Bandits

“No. It’s…personal. I’m the only person it would matter to. I’m just not comfortable leaving it there. I was going to sneak out later, but I don’t want to piss off your friends.”

Curiosity ripples across her face. She might not want to be interested in what’s under the floorboards, but she is. Which means…

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t look at it. I know that’s a big ask.”

“Is that because you’re lying to me about what’s in there?”

I lift my hands. “I guess there’s no way I can convince you I’m being truthful unless you look. You can look if you need to. I’d just appreciate it if you didn’t.

“You’re trusting me,” she says, leaning in a little. I wonder if she’s aware of it. I wonder if she feels my presence next to her like I feel hers next to me. I’d like to believe the charged feelings I have whenever she touches me are nothing more than the adrenaline I get each time I steal something. But I know better. Elaine is the least convenient woman for me to be attracted to, but there’s no denying I am. One of my foster mothers once told me that I’d cut off my nose to spite my face, and I suppose she had a point.

“Don’t get used to it.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

JAKE

Elaine studies me while I finish eating the cookie, making me feel like a slide under a fucking microscope. “What?”

“I’m trying to decide if you were being honest.”

I laugh. “And what’s the verdict?”

“Undecided, but youaresurprising.”

“So are you. It’s not every day I get tackled and patted down by a woman half my size.”

She snorts. “I’m hardly half your size. You’re probably only 5’11”.”

“You sure know how to stroke a man’s ego.”

Her smile changes, shifting to something less amused, more brittle. “I do, actually. I spent years doing that. I’m sick of it.”

“Would you like to stroke something else instead?” I ask, then lift up my hands. “Joking.”

“No, you’re not,” she says, her voice somewhere between seductive and threatening.

“What, because all men are assholes who only want one thing?”

“No,” she snaps, contempt flashing in her eyes, “because you were hard when I patted you down.”

I tap my fingers on the table. “Can you blame me? You rubbed your hands all over me. The TSA would have been proud. And you climbed into my lap the other day. You didn’t have to. You could have fast-forwarded straight to spilling that beer all over yourself. It felt good for you too, didn’t it?”

Her eyes widen. She didn’t expect me to go there, and I like that I caught her off guard. It’s like I just earned a point in whatever fucked-up game we’re playing. Will she deny it?

She licks her lips slowly, something that’s obviously for my benefit…and torment. “It’s been a while for me. It would have felt good if I’d kissed a mannequin.”

I ignore the obvious lie and ask, “Did it feel that good when your ex-fiancé kissed you?”

“Did it feel that good when Cleo kissed you?” she rebuts hotly.

“What do you think? I couldn’t even remember her name.”

The look on her face says she’s unimpressed. Fair enough. I don’t feel the need to tell her that I was nearly out of my mind the night I met Cleo—full of guilt, because Ryan had risked himself for me, and if I’d been a stronger man he wouldn’t have felt he needed to do it.

“Charming,” Elaine snaps, getting to her feet lithely.

“She tried to steal from me,” I say. “I doubt she’s losing sleep over me forgetting her name. You know, you didn’t answer my question about your fiancé.”

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