Page 11 of Target Me
“My plans include bed,” she grumbled, moving away from the door.
“Not anymore. Don’t make me come in there.”
“You’re not my daddy.”
Instant. Boner.
Fuck.
Rearranging myself with a discreet motion, I reminded myself my job was to protect the brat, not tame her. Better to disengage.
“You have ten minutes. I’ll have coffee ready for you downstairs.”
The muffled “you’d better” was accompanied by the rustle of clothing, so I graciously decided to let it slide as I headed downstairs to wait.
You can’t have her. She may not even be into the same scene as you.
There was a point. As frustrating as these new fantasies of my assignment were, they were nothing compared to the possible disappointment of finding a vanilla playmate. Control in the bedroom was my vice, the same way alcohol was for Damon.
Shit. I wondered how he was going. I’d checked in with Bear a couple of days ago, but no one had heard from Damon since the morning after Adrien’s funeral. Talk about a shit friend. I made a mental note to call him to organize a catch-up after all this stalker business was put to bed.
My morose thoughts screeched to a halt with the appearance of Avery in a tank top and Daisy Dukes. Her pale hair was pulled into a messy knot on top of her head, tendrils escaping to brush against her throat as she reached for the coffee mug I offered in tribute.
“Come on, time to go,” I urged after she’d taken a long drink. “We can get breakfast on the way.”
She rolled her eyes, huffing through her nose, but followed me out to my truck with her coffee mug cradled in her hand.
“Where are we going, anyway?” she asked, buckling her belt and glancing across the space between us. Her eyes were wary, and I wondered how she was going to react to the plans.
“You’ll see.” I started the truck, ignoring the way her eyes narrowed at me as we peeled out of the driveway.
Ten minutes from our destination, I pulled into a small diner that was known for their breakfast bagels and treated Avery to a bite to eat and another coffee.
“How do you not jitter when you walk?” I asked, eyeing the jumbo cup she had ordered to take away as we headed back to my truck.
“Quite easily. I’m usually asleep at this time, so you’re interacting with the caffeine, not Avery. Enjoy. Caffeine can be a bitch.”
I snorted, pulling the door open for her before circling the truck and climbing in on my side.
“Good to know.”
Seven minutes later, we pulled onto the dirt road that led to my run-down farmhouse.This is a good idea, I promised myself, glancing at Avery as I flicked on my turn signal.
Her face showed a whole lot of nothing, but I hoped I could change that.
“You were right,” I said as we rolled to a stop in front of the dilapidated building.
“I usually am, but what time are you referring to?”
I huffed a laugh, trying to keep the smile from my face. “I’m asking for a lot of faith from you when we know very little about each other, so I thought we could start here.”
I gestured to the sagging porch.
“At a run-down farm that looks like it’ll blow over in the next storm?”
This was a stupid idea. Of course, she wouldn’t understand that I didn’t let anyone into my personal space. I knew I would have to get over the hang-up when it came to rewiring and plumbing the place, but I hadn’t shown anyone this little project or shared my long-term plans. Until now.
“Sorry,” she said, putting a hand on my arm.
