Page 30 of Desert Heat

“FUCK!” I bellowed into the woods as my four wheeler sat out back, where more cameras pointed down from new floodlights.

Me: I need Hunter’s digits. Now. Right fucking now.

Brandi: … Tank says you must say ‘please’.

Me:Middle finger coming his way…

Brandi:here you go:) p.s. I knew you and him… were a thing…

508-767-2675

Me:The only thing we are is at war.

After clearing my throat, I hit call.

“‘Sup, baby?”

“How did you get in my house?”

“Savvy? Shit, I thought you were someone else.”

My eyes widened. Anger had me boiling. How many girls did he have on his line?

“Sorry to dissapoint you. HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN MY HOUSE?”

“Relax, I paid attention when you punched in your code. 4444 is hardly original.”

“I hate you.”

“I know we’ve already discussed. You’re pretty hot when you’re pissed though.”

My boots stopped pacing across my deck, I looked up at the camera. “It was you?!”

“Smile. Give me a wave? How about a little midriff?”

I flipped him the bird, stalked to the shed to grab a shovel, intent on smashing the shit out of every camera I could find.

“Damn girl, slow your roll. I was going to come over later to set up your phone with the app and hand it all over to you. Do you really want to be alone out there with a target on your back and no surveillance?”

“I don’t need you or your help,” I hissed.

“So, the little lady keeps saying.”

“Get the fuck out of my life.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven. Chow, babe.”

“Chow, babe?! ARRRGHHHHH!”

My hands heaved the shovel over the side of the deck. Fuck Hunter Northport and his grocery buying, camera spying— fucking good guy ways.

He makes me burn so hot I don’t know which I want more: to grab his ass and lock it down or kick it the hell out of my life.

“You look good tonight, baby.”

“Stop it,” I hissed, yanking my hand away from his. He retaliated by putting his arm my head rest. “I swear if you’re fingers start playing with the ends of my hair, I’ll cut you with the knife I have inside my boot.”

Our gazes lock.

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