Page 74 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

But the truth was somewhat murkier. She wasn’t bad for me because of who she was. Lindsey was a fucking light. The only reason she was bad for me was because I wanted her and I couldn’t keep her for longer than stolen moments in the night.

I scribbled some more. The rising sun beat down on the back of my head and neck and sweat popped out on my brow.

The sweatshirt had been unnecessary.

I set down my pad and pen and took out the water bott

les before hauling off the hoodie. I did the same with the undershirt I had on beneath, tossing them on the dewy grass. The sun felt good on my bare skin, although if I hadn’t been so certain I was alone I never would’ve stripped down. I didn’t think I had more vanity than the average man, but my scars were significant. I hadn’t been one to wander around shirtless before the accident and I definitely wasn’t now either.

But other than the scatter of birds swooping down for some unseen delicacy between the bright green blades of grass, dotted here and there with a few crisp red and gold leaves blown off the trees, I was isolated. On a property this large, who would venture out this far this early?

No one. Just the way I liked it.

It was some time later the leaves crunched underfoot. I fought the buzz along my spine and flattened my hands against the cool earth. Probably an animal in the underbrush. Trying its best not to be noticed. I could relate.

The crackle of leaves came again, along with the light hum of a woman singing. I nearly groaned. So much for peace and quiet.

I turned my head and forgot all about my irritation at being disturbed.

Some distance away, a woman with long blond twin braids bent over on a mat. Her perfect heart-shaped ass stuck high in the air, and although I couldn’t make out her exact dimensions, I’d recently had my hands on that particular bum so I could identify it readily enough. The voice grew louder, adding one more layer of recognition.

She was singing a song I couldn’t place. Until she got to the bridge about loving rock and roll, and that same dopey smile returned to my face.

Lindsey-fucking-York was doing yoga in a tiny top and tinier shorts and singing Joan Jett.

I slipped a hand in my pocket and pushed aside my phone to get to my wallet. I pried out a few bucks and pushed to my feet, leaving my discarded clothes, pad, and pen behind but taking the water.

My luck was in. She had on AirPods and didn’t hear me approach. I tossed a few bucks on her mat, twisted off the top of my water and tipped it back into my mouth. Suddenly, my throat was as dry as dust.

Gee, wonder why?

She dropped down into another position, eyes closed, still singing along with the music in her headphones. Her eyes blinked open as she came back up.

Her scream rattled the trees and made me laugh nearly hard enough to crack a rib. I accidentally dribbled water down my chest from squeezing the bottle too tightly. Damn, that sports bra thing she wore should be illegal in all fifty states.

She shifted from fight-or-flight mode to checking me out. I could feel every individual drop slipping down my chest as if they were made from hot wax.

It took everything I possessed not to back away into the shadows like some kind of Beauty and the Beast-like creature who didn’t dare to come out during the daytime. Especially not in full sunlight.

She glanced down at the mat and noticed the money I’d tossed. Then her canny blue eyes narrowed.

“You’re such a dick.”

“Isn’t that what buskers require? Some token from their audience?”

The apples of her cheeks flared even more pink. “You weren’t that impressed with my singing.”

“I only gave you three dollars.”

She picked up the money, folding the bills and sticking them in her sports bra. “Thanks. This gives me a few singles for the strip club when I get back home. So hard to have fun when you usually only carry a Platinum card.”

“I can imagine. I would’ve tipped you even more for your ass, but I only had three.”

She crossed her arms. “Isn’t it a bit early for you to climb out of your crypt?”

“Shows how much you know. I still haven’t gotten in my crypt yet.” Testing both of us, I moved across her mat and shoved the extra water in my pocket so I could take one of her AirPods out of her ear. It immediately paused and I frowned. “How the hell am I supposed to listen?”

“You’re not. They’re mine.” She plucked it out of my hand and eyed the extra bottle of water poking out of my pocket. “Share?”

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