Page 15 of Lovely Venom
“She’s fucking stalking me.” He exhales and shakes his head.
I tip my head back and laugh. “I believe that’s called flirting.”
“No.” He gets serious. “She doesn’t say a word to me. I pass her in the hall and see her in the lobby. Nothing. But I know she’s been in my flat.”
My spine snaps to attention. “Do you keep anything incriminating lying around?”
“No. My heat is all locked up.”
I blink. “How do you know she’s been in your apartment?”
“Because she leaves me plants,” he snaps.
“What?”
“Herbs, whatever. That’s how I know she’s stalkingme. One night about two years ago, I mentioned that I liked the smell coming from her place. She was cooking something that smelled amazing. Now I have a fucking greenhouse in my kitchen.”
“Cooking something? Are you sure it wasn’t someone’s pet rabbit?”
Rhys chokes on his shot. “Thanks for the visual.”
“Is this something Trace and I need to handle?”
“My brother thinks it’s funny. He checked her out. She’s not dangerous. She’s not connected to anyone. I’ll deal with it.”
“Is she hot?” I wonder if he’ll start fucking her.
His jaw jumps. “No comment.”
Bingo!
The pub eventually gets loud and rowdy enough to grate on my nerves, a sign of my thirty-seven years. With a head full of Quinlan-brand steam that sizzles under menacing laughter and shared stories of death and blood, I drain the last drops of my pint.
By the time I swipe my thumb across the rim, my mind is already miles away from this place. Rhys is still nursing his drink like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Typical assassin.
Grinning like the devil, Blade ends a call and nudges Jett. “Your brother Dirk had an opening. Let’s go.”
“Opening for what?” I ask, fingers around my empty glass that I might trade for whiskey shots once my team goes back into their shadows.
Where Blade keeps pretending he doesn’t want to fuck Jett.
Where Rhys plays it cool with his neighbor, who I know he wants to fuck.
Me? Until today, I thought my biggest problem was being in deep for a woman. Period. Hard stop. Just a lass.
A stranger.
Now there’s about a ninety-nine percent chance she will kick my ass before she gets in my bed again.
Given what I do.
Given what she does.
So, I have to pretend, too. Pretend she doesn’t exist.
She made it out of today’s mess. She can handle herself.
“How much do I owe?” Jett asks, reaching into his wallet for some green, but Blade rests a hand on his thigh, eyes narrowing.
