Fuck me. I yank on my boots and grab my keys from the hook beside the kitchen door, ignoring the way my chest twists and tightens.
“Are you hurt?” I demand.
“Ahhh, I knew you had a heart in there somewhere, beneath all those layers of ice,” Lila coos as a notification beeps on my phone. I ignore it. “No, I’m not hurt. But this poor guy is going to have one helluva headache when he wakes up.”
I toss my coat into the passenger seat, crank the ignition, and hit the gas.
“You fought him?”
“Never had the chance, actually.”
I don’t follow what she’s saying, but that doesn’t stop me from gunning it toward town. Let Chief Walkertryto pull me over for speeding. I’m not above telling him where to shove his ticket. But the thought does bring up another question.
“Why haven’t you called the police?”
“I can’t.” There’s something strangled in her tone. A hint of desperation I’m certain she doesn’t want me to hear.
“Lila?”
“I need a favor.”
“This doesn’t count?” I bark back as the lights of a sleepy town come into view. I’m three minutes away. Four tops.
“You’re my landlord,” she retorts. “Doing your jobisn’texactly a favor.”
This woman is maddening. Another reason I vowed to keep my distance from her. I can’t ever seem to decide if I want to get the hell away or push her up against the wall to steal one of those intoxicating kisses. She’s the kind of woman who could too easily worm her way into my head and scramble it.
Lila Hamilton is a temptation best avoided at all costs.
“Spit it out,” I insist.
“I need you to keep this quiet.”
“You want menotto tell anyone that someone broke into your bakery?” I must be misunderstanding what she’s saying.Because whoever the creep is that’s likely unconscious with a goose egg on his head isnotgetting off scot-free.
“Exactly.”
My grip tightens on the steering wheel. “I’m not agreeing to that.”
“You have to, or my business is doomed,” she pleads. I can’t tell if she’s being dramatic or if there’s a hint of defeat in that tone. “Ican’thave anything else go wrong today, Sull. This is a make-it-or-break-it kind of day for me.”
“This is what I can’t stand Valentine’s Day,” I mutter, slowing as I reach the city limits and heading straight for downtown. “You women put all this pressure on a single day. How’s a man supposed to stand a chance?”
“Despite my incessant curiosity about what woman turned you off of the most romantic holiday of the year, I don’t have the bandwidth for that story right now. Which is really disappointing, because I bet it’s a doozy.”
“It’s not?—”
“Ah!” she squeak-screams.
“Lila?”
“Are you almost here? Say you’re almost here.”
“Pulling in now.” I end the call, parking in the alley behind the bakery. I grab my baseball bat from the back of my truck and charge through the back door.
CHAPTER 3
Lila