Page 45 of Moth to a Flame

The bell chimes over his head as he steps inside.

It’s as if my heart races and freezes at the same time. I feel as if I just died, yet I’ve never felt more alive.

I’m burning up. I’m frozen.

I stare up into the blackest eyes I’ve ever seen.

He’s right here, at the counter, and I wasn’t ready for him. I wasn’t ready to want and fear him like this.

“Hello, little lamb.”

Instinctively, my hand reaches for my gun.

Landon’s gaze slides lower, then back up to my face.

“Hmm.” His expression is unreadable. I would try to understand what thishmmmeans, except I can’t help the way my attention drifts to his hair and how gorgeous he is when he wears it in a half updo. “Is that a thing here? To greet your customers with a gun?”

“Jigsaw,” I murmur. I don’t know why I’ve chosen to tell him that.

He tilts his head. “Jigsaw?”

“Its name.”

“Cute. And fitting.” Landon sounds sincere. He drops his leather satchel on the counter, and it lands with athunk.

“Wait.” My eyebrows scrunch before the other part of his sentence registers. “A customer?”

“I’m more than that, true.” His lips hike to the side, a short, fleeting smirk. “We’ll get to that part later. My laptop has been acting up all morning. This is a repair store, so, here I am. A customer.”

An emotion I can’t place flashes behind his eyes. Other than that, he seems harmless enough. As harmless as a man like Landon can be, anyway.

“Okay.” I’m still struggling with moving when he pushes his shoulder bag in my direction. “Your nail polish. It’s new.”

“Couldn’t sleep last night.”

He was in his home, doing his nails. Where it’s safe. He might not be there today.

Is this the time to warn him about Eyeballs Person?

No. I mean, yes, but it’ll take elaborate sentences and long explanations. I haven’t settled from the shock of seeing him here.

My skin is buzzing, set alight from this man’s presence.

Once I have my brain back, I’ll speak. He won’t see how I’m weak in the knees for him. No man will see it unless I can fully trust him.

His smirk returns as he watches me. It isn’t wicked. Pure satisfaction, that’s what I get from him.

Nails. Right, we were discussing his nails. I steal a glance at mine. I painted them three days ago, and they look nothing likehis. Other than the black, glossy coat, his seem freshly painted, but…

“Why is it chipped?”

“You ask all your customers so many questions?”

He’s baiting me. Teasing me. He…could be flirting. I wouldn’t have the first clue on how to flirt back.

I offer the only thing I have. The truth. “No.”

The air between us crackles. His intense focus makes me heady.

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