Page 33 of Play Dirty (Brooklyn Dawn 1)

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, um...”

I laughed. I mean, what else could I do? “Wow. Even gave him my room?”

Logan shrugged. “With two kids, not as many party rooms as we used to have.”

“So domesticated.”

Bella stood. “I’ll show you.”

“No, it’s okay.” I needed a second to come to terms with all this new information. And to put all the shit back in its box. And here I’d thought mistakenly seeing him at the wedding was going to be the worst thing about my week. “I’m assuming Zeke’s room?”

Bella laughed. “He does have the best view. Well, besides the room you usually like.”

“It’s a gorgeous house. There’s no bad views here.”

“And I fumigated out the stinky boy.” Bella leaned her head on Logan’s shoulder. “We love Z, but him and his dog love the outdoors too much.”

Zeke, Logan’s bandmate and professional flirt, stayed with them often. At least when he wasn’t riding waves in random countries. “Do I have to move for him too?”

“No, Z is in Bora Bora, I think.”

“Lucky guy.”

I left the room and backtracked to retrieve my luggage. My bag was still in the front room. I grabbed my hard-sided pink suitcase with the blinged out handle. Way easier to find it in baggage claim. And well, I liked the bling.

The door creaked open. Barely enough warning. “Duchess.”

My shoulders immediately went up. I curled my fingers around the handle a little tighter and rose to my full height. “Forget something?” The bottle in my hand crinkled a little and I forced myself to relax my fingers. “Manners? Dignity?”

“I wasn’t the one running.”

I looked up and our eyes locked. A brisk wind followed him in as rain slanted behind him. His stood with his legs apart, his Doc Martens caked in mud, his black jeans splattered with dirt and rain. His white thermal shirt stuck to him, and water dripped from his obsidian hair.

But Jesus, it was always his eyes that got me.

Direct.

Unwavering.

Hard.

I

was glad I was already in Winchester Falls-appropriate gear. Jeans and a flannel were standard fare for my trips here. Otherwise there’d be far too much proof as to how my body betrayed me when it came to this man.

My arms were tingling with goosebumps, and my nipples were so damn hard they hurt.

Why?

Why did it have to be this man who set everything jangling inside of me?

“So says the muddy boots.” I snapped out my suitcase’s telescopic handle.

He slammed the door, tracking in mud.

“And you’re an animal to boot. Charming.”

He bent to unlace his boots. “Only when you need me to be.”

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