Page 10 of No Control

Back left. Corner booth.

I run my tongue along my bottom lip, half tempted to ask if she’s had a chance to go over the contract. I need her to agree to it—to make the first step easy. We had only exchanged a few messages outside of those texts, and they’d all been discussions about writing a thriller book for a new publishing company I had no intention of starting. It’s minimal contact, and I intend for that to change. Soon.

But it’s a game of patience. No emotions required.

And for that reason, I exit out of the thread and shove my phone into my pocket. Typically, I’d use a burner for something this dicey, but I’m not letting Lydia slip away. Besides, Henry Bayne is a clean man, making his money through tech investments.

Silently, I slip out of the car, the cold air hardly putting me off. I reach for the neck gaiter hidden beneath the neckline of my hoodie. I pull it up over my nose, flip my hood up, and glide through the knee-high grass. I prefer my mask. But it's back at the hotel room.

The wind is whipping tonight, and it works in my favor as I edge through the woods, crossing the barbed wire fence onto Lydia’s property. She’s got a stunning eighty acres surrounding her house that she inherited from family, and it’s mostly wooded. I stop as soon as the house comes into view. Right now, I’m positioned to the side of it, and so I make my way around to the back, hoping to get a better line of sight. None of the windows provide me with an internal view.

She keeps her blinds closed, apparently.

Good for her.

I mean, you never know who might be creeping around in the night. I chuckle silently to myself, rounding the back of the house while staying a good fifteen feet back in the cover of the thick woods.

And that’s when I catch sight of her.

Standing on the back porch, her arms are wrapped tightly around her body. “Go potty, Duke!” she calls out into the night.

I furrow my brow right as my phone vibrates in my pocket.

I pull it out, seeing a text from Jude.

She’s got a dog. Be careful.

Well, that would’ve been nice to know.

I shove it back in my pocket, trying to get eyes on just what kind of canine I’m up against—but she’s all I can focus on. Her hair is now piled on top of her head in a messy bun, and the shorts she’s got on show off her muscular thighs and round ass. She’s a runner, but it’s easy to see she carries thick muscles on her lower half.

And I’m here for it.

Damnit. Don’t get distracted.

As much as I’d love to fantasize mentally bending her over those porch rails, tonight is not the night for that. She has less than twenty-four hours to let me know if she’s accepting my offer, and the tension between her and her fiancé has me hoping she’s going to come willingly.

And leave him in the dust for me to annihilate.

If it were up to me, I’d hunt down every single man who ever fucking looked at her, plucking their eyes right out of their skull with the tip of my knife.

But I have to be realistic.

I should probably only focus on the men who’ve actually touched her.

A light growl in the dark nips at my thoughts.

Ah, there it is.

I narrow my eyes, squinting at the shaggy mutt of a dog a few feet out in front of me. He’s some sort of hound mixed with a retriever, maybe? He's got a deep golden coat. No matter how pretty the dog is, he’s not nearly as happy to see me as I hoped he’d be.

“Hey, buddy,” I say softly, keeping my voice at a whisper. I glance back at Lydia, who’s eyes are on her phone, back angled toward us.

Perfect.

Duke, I assume, takes a step toward me, his dark muzzle still curled in a snarl. As much as I hate to see he’s not welcoming me with open arms, it’s a win he’s not barking at me. I need to keep this up.

I dig into my pocket, grabbing my protein bar. “This probably isn’t good for you, but it’s the fastest way to make a truce—I’m gonna be here awhile.” I snap off the end of it, and toss it toward him, letting it hit the leaves just in front of him. His body jerks, but even in the dim moonlight, I see his nose twitching.

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