Temperance
After a warning from Kane not to disclose anything about his identity, my brother, or our current situation, we head up to the restaurant to meet Yve.
I can feel his gaze on me from his position near the bar as I take a seat at the booth across from her. You’d think after being near him all day, I’d be used to his scrutiny, but it’s still unsettling. As are my warring feelings when it comes to him.
Before I knew who Kane was, he fascinated me. Now? My fascination is growing to unhealthy levels.
He’s nothing like I expected. I thought he’d sit in the corner of my office and watch the door, like Scar does when he’s guarding Keira, but Kane shocked me byhelping. When I dumped an entire stack of invoices off the edge of my overwhelmed desk, he picked up every single one and reordered them.
It took me a few minutes to process the fact that a man who is probably more accustomed to handling bullets than paperwork wasalphabetizingmy invoices.
It has to be completely beneath him, and yet, he didn’t hesitate.
I’ve been the low woman on the totem pole at Seven Sinners for so long that it’s strange to have someone take anything off my plate. And now, instead of looming over me in a semi-public space, he’s watching from a nondisruptive distance. Well, nondisruptive to everything but my concentration.
“You’re as jumpy as a cat in heat. What’s going on?” Yve studies me, seeming to zero in on my every fidgeting gesture.
“Nothing. I’m fine. Drank too much coffee this morning.”
“Should probably have some whiskey to help tame that buzz then, yeah?”
“Not for me. I don’t drink whiskey, especially during work hours.”
“Fair enough, but I’m ordering some. I took the afternoon off. JP is holding down the fort, along with a few new employees, and I’m calling for a ride home.”
“Feel free. I’m happy to serve you all the whiskey you could possibly drink.” I wave over one of the waitstaff, and Yve orders her whiskey and I order us an appetizer. As soon as the server steps away, I get down to business. “Tell me about this event you want to plan.”
On the phone, Yve mentioned setting up a whiskey-tasting night at her boutique as a way to drive people into the new lingerie store.
“I want to call it Frisky Whiskey Night at the Pretty Kitty.”
I grin. “That’s perfect.”
“I thought so. My competition is big into champagne and shopping nights, but that’s boring. Whiskey is so much more fun, and I think it would really suit my clientele better.”
I flip open my planner. “When are you thinking?”
We discuss a few dates, debate them, and finally settle on a winner. During our conversation, I can’t help but look over Yve’s shoulder a half dozen times at Kane.
When I shut my notebook and attempt one more surreptitious glance, she shakes her head.
“Really, girl? You aren’t subtle at all.” She casually glances over her shoulder, and from her shift in posture, I know the moment she spots him. Her attention swings back to me.
“Now I get it. Who’s the lucky man?” She pauses, holding up a finger. “Wait. That’s him, isn’t it? The one you had the thing for that you didn’t know his name?”
“Shhh. Please don’t say anything. It’s not a thing. There’s nothing happening. It’s no big deal.”
She leans back in the booth and tilts her chin. “You’re a terrible liar. That’s totally him. Now I see why you kept going back. I would’ve too. You know, if I didn’t have my own man. He’s delicious.”
“It’s nothing. Really. It’s not going anywhere.” Even as I say the words, I want to snatch them back because I don’t want them to be true. Then again, how can they be anything but the truth?
He’s a hit man.We’re going to track down my brother, figure out how to keep him and me safe, and get rid of the people who want him dead. And then ... it’s over. Simple as that.
Yve’s gaze turns mocking. “Girl, I know all about not wanting to get involved with a guy. I even know all about hating a guy, or at least telling myself I do, which clearly isn’t your issue here. Sometimes the universe has different plans than you do, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.” She pretends to reach for her purse that hangs on the end of our booth and glances over her shoulder again. A moment later, she turns back to me. “He can’t take his eyes off you.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Pshh, girl. He’s practically eating you alive. That man looks like he’d drag you into a corner and have his way with you just as soon as eat that burger in front of him.”