Page 2 of Tangled in Red

Why did he have to be so... everything?

“Hey, cariño,” Diablo said, his voice dropping to that low pitch that made Brett’s knees weak every time he heard it.

He leaned to rest his hand on the counter, almost knocking over a display of ceramic angels when he missed it. “Hi—hey—you’re…here.” Why don’t you just knock yourself out and save yourself the embarrassment? He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, praying he didn’t make a complete fool of himself this time. “I thought we were meeting tomorrow?”

“Was in the neighborhood.” Diablo walked toward him, never taking his eyes off Brett. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

“Mission accomplished.” His voice unexpectedly squeaked. Freaking fantastic. I sound like I’m hitting puberty all over again, as if the first round wasn’t the most awkward phase ever.

Diablo leaned casually against the counter, close enough for Brett to catch a whiff of leather and aftershave. Of course, he hadn’t missed the counter like Brett had. “You always this nervous, or just when I’m around?”

It all depended on who he was dealing with. Feeling jittery around Diablo? Totally thrilling. His uncle? Not so much.

“Special talent.” Brett managed a cheeky grin. The gift shop was practically deserted, except for the same elderly woman examining birthday cards like she was defusing a bomb. “I’m a disaster around hot guys.”

Why on earth had he admitted that?

“You think I’m hot?” Diablo’s lips curled up at one corner, eyes twinkling.

Why did he have to be so utterly irresistible? Brett felt his face heating up by the second. It looked as if he was doomed to repeat his first encounter with the guy. Blushing so badly he wanted to melt into the floor.

“Don’t fish for compliments you don’t need.” Brett distracted himself by fiddling with plushies that were already perfectly arranged. “Your mirror tells you that every day.”

And probably half the people he encountered.

“Maybe I like hearing it from you.” The simple confession made Brett pause. He looked up, caught in Diablo’s steady gaze. For a moment, neither of them said a word. Hell, Brett forgot to breathe.

“Take a break.”

“I can’t just—”

“Ten minutes.” Diablo tilted his head toward the door. “There’s a coffee machine right outside. My treat.”

Brett glanced at the customer, who was now comparing two nearly identical cards. “Let me take care of her first.”

After he rang her up—thankfully she’d finally made a decision—he and Diablo walked into the corridor. The coffee machine was within sight of the door, so he didn’t have to worry about a sudden balloon heist.

“When do you get off?”

Oh, that was such a loaded question. Brett felt his face heating to nuclear levels. “Twenty minutes. But the guy who works the second shift is always late, so probably more like forty.”

Which usually didn’t faze Brett. It wasn’t like he was in any hurry to get home to his uncle. Even after Edward clocked in, Brett sometimes dawdled, purposefully stretching his departure from work for as long as he could. The less time around his uncle, the safer Brett was.

“I don’t mind waiting, shorty.” Diablo swiped his card in the coffee machine as a group of nurses in colorful scrubs passed them. “Unless you’re tired of me already.”

Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen. He could be glued to Diablo twenty-four-hours a day, for the next two years, and not tire of him. Even through texts and phone calls, Diablo made him feel seen.

“Not at all.” Being near Diablo was making Brett’s heart perform somersaults. “But just so you know, this place isn’t exactly exciting.”

“Want a coffee?” Diablo pointed at the machine.

“Sure!” Crap. He pressed his lips together, wishing he would stop being so dorky around the guy. “Just cream.” And a dollop of dignity.

“I’ve got my entertainment right here.” Diablo handed him a paper cup then brushed Brett’s arm lightly.

Brett flinched. The ache had lessened, but it flared up where Frank had tried to yank his arm out of its socket a few days ago.

“You okay?” Diablo looked at him with concern.

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