Page 53 of Wicked and Claimed

JasperThePrivateDick: I appreciate the offer, but it’s ancient history. Not nearly as interesting as the present. And it’s getting late for this old fart, so I should sign off. But think about what I said, okay? Take it from someone who learned the hard way. Don’t let fear and pride keep you from something real with your ex. Even if it’s complicated.

RedHotSavvySleuth: I’ll try. Thanks for listening. Have a good night.

Nash exited the chat and powered down his laptop, his mind racing. Had he gotten through to Haisley? Planted a seed that would make her rethink keeping him at arm’s length?

Knowing how stubborn she was, maybe not. Time would tell. But the truth was, he couldn’t maintain his strictly professional charade for long, not when every cell in his body was screaming to haul her against him and kiss her until they were both senseless.

She was right about one thing, though. Complicated didn’t even begin to cover their relationship these days. He hoped that playing Jasper didn’t bite him in the ass, but he’d meant what he’d said. He didn’t want to waste a single day with Haisley—even if it meant breaking every rule in the book to prove she still wanted him just as badly.

* * *

Late the next afternoon, Nash strode into Haisley’s office, his heart doing that familiar little flip when she glanced up from her computer screen at him. Her eyes widened slightly, surprise and something else he couldn’t decipher flickering across her face before she schooled her features into a neutral expression.

“Nash. What’s up?”

He shrugged, aiming for a casual tone, even as his pulse kicked up a notch. “Thought I’d swing by and see if you were available to join me on a field trip to the mall.”

Haisley arched a brow, leaning back in her chair. “Weren’t you the one who demanded that I stay in the office, far from any potential danger?”

Nash bit back a smile. She never could resist pushing back, even against his protective instincts. “I did. And it pains me to admit that you were right about me being intimidating to teenagers. Abby wouldn’t talk to me or Ethan last night. She clammed up tighter than a nun’s—” He caught himself, clearing his throat when Angela, hovering nearby, raised her pierced, disapproving brow. Yeah, probably not an appropriate metaphor for the office. “You get the idea.”

Somehow, Haisley managed to keep her expression neutral, but he saw her repress a grin. “So you agree that I might have better luck getting a sixteen-year-old to talk?”

“I know you will.” The words came out with a soft certainty that made Haisley blink. “Will you come with me?”

She hesitated, worrying that plump bottom lip between her teeth. Nash itched to reach out and smooth the tiny furrow between her brows, but he kept his hands to himself—reluctantly.

“Why not?” She stood and grabbed her purse. “Just let me tell Mila where I’m headed in case Mr. Benedict asks.”

Nash nodded, tamping down his irritation at the mention of her boss. The way she avoided the asshole, he’d bet the man had been giving her a hard time. He itched to march into Benedict’s office and give the bastard a piece of his mind. But he reined in the impulse. Haisley wouldn’t appreciate him fighting the battles she was more than capable of handling herself.

No doubt she was sidestepping conversations with Mr. Benedict, not because she was afraid of him, but because she was worried she’d snap back and get herself fired. Haisley refused to take shit from anyone. That, along with her cleverness and loyalty, were some of the things he loved most about her.

They stopped by Mila’s desk quickly, but she wasn’t in her office. And her boss’s door was closed, so Haisley sent a text to Mr. Benedict.

As they headed to the elevator in thick silence, Nash couldn’t help stealing glances, drinking in the determined set of her jaw and the way the fluorescent lights lit up her fiery hair. Her ass looked damn fine in that skirt, too.

God, she was beautiful. She sucker-punched him every time he looked at her.

“You’re staring,” she murmured as they stepped into the empty elevator. “If I have food on my face, you need to tell me.”

Nash laughed, leaning back against the wall. “Nothing like that. It’s just been a while since I’ve seen you get involved in something you’re passionate about. It looks good on you.”

A pleased flush spread across her cheeks. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“Just stating facts.” He let his voice dip into that low, teasing register he knew drove her crazy, gratified when her breath hitched almost imperceptibly.

The elevator dinged, doors sliding open, and Haisley darted out into the lobby. Nash fell into step beside her as they headed for his truck.

Once they were on the road, he glanced over at her and caught her fiddling with the strap of her purse. A sure sign she was nervous. Or upset.

“Hey,” he called softly, waiting until she met his gaze. “You okay? You seem a little off today.”

Haisley shrugged, looking out the window again. “Just a lot on my mind. You know, with the case, not to mention Mr. Benedict being an absolute douche nozzle to work for. He hired me because I know social media in a way he doesn’t, but he keeps trying to tell me how to do my job. It’s annoying; that’s all.”

That wasn’t all. Even after two years apart, Nash knew Haisley too well to believe that. Her skin was too thick for the bastard to crawl under it in a handful of days. Which left Nash to wonder… Was she actually upset because she still believed he’d considered her an easy hookup? Or confused because he’d stopped flirting?

She changed the subject. “How did the rest of the interviews go yesterday?”

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