Page 15 of Villainous Summer

“Not that I didn’t appreciate the gesture, but maybe think twice before sending someone a blank check in the mail. I could have ripped you off.” He frowned. “You didn’t even write my name on it.”

“You didn’t give it, and I had better things on my mind than getting to know the man who was about to call the cops on me.”

“It’s Donovan Logan. Van.”

“Van Logan.”

The server returned with a second glass of wine and my salmon and avocado tacos. I ordered them overly garlicky, as I wasn’t kissing anyone tonight or any other night.

“Anything for you?” the server asked him.

“Yeah, can you have them make my to-go order for here? I’m dining with my girl.”

The server’s eyes flashed to me in confusion, but he nodded. “Of course. Give me a minute.”

I scowled at him. “Why did you do that?”

He grabbed a piece of avocado that had fallen from my taco and popped it in his mouth, a familiar gesture that twisted my stomach. “Because we have loads to discuss. Come on, my treat.”

I thought of the hefty chunk taken out of my savings for the first and last month’s deposit for my apartment. Of the money, I had to spend on businesslike yet comfortable heels for work.

“No funny business.”

“Only serious business.” He frowned, his brow furrowing mockingly. “Of course, Ms. Townsend.”

“Don’t call me that.” I flicked my thumbnail against my pinky nail three times.

He pushed his half empty beer to the side and leaned forward, his voice low. “What should I call you? Summer? Because you are the least sunny person I’ve ever seen.”

“As if you’re the most charming person yourself,” I retorted. “You bulldoze your way over here, ruin what should have been a perfectly pleasant evening of wine and tacos, and worst of all, interrupt my reading when it was getting good. It makes sense your name is Van because you drove roughshod all over my night.”

He pressed his full lips together as if biting back a smile. “You done?”

I flipped my hair over my left shoulder and gave him a withering look. “Maybe.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair, mussing the styled coif. A lock fell over his forehead as he leaned toward me. “Look, it’s one night, great view of the parade, free food—and even better, free drinks. I just need my boss to stop trying to set me up with his granddaughter.”

While I had stopped following Cory everywhere, he still viewed all of my posts. Didn’t hide behind a fake account or anything. It was possible he even had notifications turned on because he was the first to view each post. Maybe if I popped up with someone else, he’d leave me alone. And suffer a little. I wasn’t above wanting him to suffer.

“I have one condition. You will let me take lots of pictures of us together.”

“You need to make someone jealous?”

No way was I divulging my reasons for this guy.

I raised a brow and stared him down. “Do you want me to come or not?”

Van nodded, extending a hand. “Fair enough. You got a deal, sunshine.”

As I took his hand, a zing of something ran down the inside of my arm. His hands were softer than I had expected, though still calloused. His grip was solid. A man who didn’t know how to shake was an immediate turnoff for me. A man with a weak grip for no reason doesn’t respect you enough to think you can handle it. This man didn’t hold back, his touch firm. I liked that. It was as if he knew I could take it and more.

I tightened my grip, and a sly smile played on his lips.

“Deal.”

As he pulled away, his thumb grazed the back of my hand, his touch sliding down my fingers.

A scene in my book flashed through my mind. Viscount Rodolphe pulling off Lady Beatrice’s glove. The wantonness of such an innocent move bound something in my chest.

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