Page 3 of The Love Destroyers

“I doubt it. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to hit on your sister’s in-laws?”

He makes another not-quite-a-laugh. “Now you tell me. I was about to have something really special with your mother.”

I fake a gagging sound.

“Anyway,” he adds. “Who says I’m hitting on you? I talk to everyone like this.”

“But you’reespeciallynice to hatchbacks.”

His lips curl into a grin. “What can I say? I like a big ass.”

I laugh again, easing into it—and into this probably inappropriate conversation. “Of course you do. You have aflat one. Everyone looks for what they don’t have in a sexual partner.”

I’m just messing with him. He has a nice ass, truth be told, not that I should have noticed.

His eyes sparkle in the near dark as he pushes off from the wall and pointedly turns in a circle in front of me, showing off the goods. Yes,definitelya nice ass, and he’s wearing jeans that show the right kind of wear. I feel a swell of awareness that I squash down.

“You’re telling me that’s not one fine ass?” he asks finally before propping himself against the wall again.

“I take the fifth,” I tell him pointedly.

“Sounds like a yes.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Only a yes means yes.”

“I’m familiar with the definition. So what did this guy do to you? I’m assuming it was a guy.”

I huff out a breath that fills the air with white mist. “What didn’t he do?”

“Way to get me on the hook.” His voice sounds amused. “You told me nothing but in an interesting way.”

“Who says I want you on the hook?” I ask, turning toward him slightly and raising my eyebrows.

A frigid breeze blows a pinecone toward me, but I don’t have the slightest interest in going inside. Because there’s that twinkle in Seamus’s eyes again, as if he’s up to no good. It’s obnoxious, and also sexy.

What would happen if I suggested giving him a lift back to his hotel room, or whatever, in my scandalous hatchback?

I smush the thought like a bug and ignore the awareness dancing across my skin as he shifts slightly closer, cutting the six inches between us to four, and faces me more fully.

He watches me for three seconds—I count—and then says, “Maybe you just want to punch every guy you meet in the nuts.”

“Noteveryguy.” I hold his gaze. “Are you offering yourself as tribute? I might accept.”

His mouth hitches up on one side, humor lines bunching around his eyes. “Not tribute for a blow to the nuts. But if you want to punch me in the chest or the arm, I’d take it.”

“You’re trying to trick me into hurting my hand,” I say. Because he may be rangy and more stretched out than his brother, but there’s no denying he’s fit. It would hurt to punch him. Not that I truly have any intention of doing such a thing.

He holds my gaze. Another challenge.

A sigh gusts out of me, because I know I’m going to tell him everything. Maybe Ineedto tell someone. My brother and my mother know a little, but they don’t know the full story. I can’t share it with them, because I don’t want to hear anyOh, Emmas or for them to look at me like I’m a victim. I refuse to be a victim. I don’t think Seamus will do either of those things, if only because he probably doesn’t give a shit. I also don’t think he’d tell anyone.

“My boss was embezzling from clients…” I start.

He doesn’t comment, he just pulls the flask out again and opens it, taking a sip before passing it to me, his brow cocked. I take a long pull, painfully aware of the phantom impression of his lips, right beneath where mine are pressed, before handing it back.

“And you called him on it?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. I asked him a question about some numbers that weren’t adding up, and the next thing I know, he refers this new client to me. This woman was a nightmare. Her name’s Ellie Reed.”

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