Page 105 of All the Missing Pieces

My hand moved to the pocket of my dress. God bless pockets in dresses. Mine housed two very important things—Chapstick and my tiny Taser.

Colt pulled into a parking spot next to a row of motorcycles outside The Whiskey Barrel and shut off the engine, but he made no move to get out of the SUV. Instead, he turned to me. “Walk me through the plan.”

“We head in. I talk to Baker, try to get a feel if he was the one who sent those spam bots after me, while at the same time making nice so we can finish this season.”

That had Colt scowling. “If he’s the one who programmed the software to say all that awful stuff, why the hell would you want to finish the season with him?”

“Because you never know if the public might come through with tips. If I pull out now, we lose the six episodes that are already up. All my subscribers and reviews. I’d have to start from scratch in the middle of a story. It’s better to play along so Baker won’t suspect a damn thing when I pull out of our contract the moment this season is done.”

Colt’s brows lifted. “You’re leaving him.”

I nodded. “He went too far at the hospital. He’s always been pushy, but it’s delving into manipulative waters, and I’m not down with that.”

“Good,” he clipped. “That guy is a prick.”

My lips twitched. “A soul or two might’ve called you the same.”

Those dark eyes heated to warm amber as Colt slid his hand into my hair. He tugged on the strands, tipping my head back to give himself access to my mouth as he leaned in. “Prick, huh?”

His lips hovered over mine, just shy of where I wanted them. “Maybe,” I whispered.

Colt’s mouth took mine. It wasn’t gentle—it was all need and dominance. But I didn’t let him take over. I gave as good as I got, my tongue twisting with Colt’s, stroking, teasing, demanding more.

When he broke away, I gasped for breath and then glared at him. “Seriously?”

Colt sent me a cocky grin. “Just a little reminder of what’s waiting at home, so you don’t take too long.”

“Overbearing alpha males who are too good with their tongues,” I grumbled as I slid from the SUV. Colt’s chuckle sounded behind me as I headed for the bar’s door, but I ignored it.

I couldn’t ignore when his hand caught mine and he slowed me to a stop. His lips brushed mine again. “Should’ve told you before now. You look beautiful. A kind of beauty that would make any man stop in his tracks. But it’s only matched by your fierceness.” Those brown eyes sparked gold. “Show no mercy, Chaos.”

My lips parted on a silent inhale as I stared up at Colt. This man would be my ruin. The way he made my body come alive with the barest touch. How deeply he believed in me, believed in what I was capable of.

“No mercy,” I whispered.

Colt squeezed my hand twice and then released it, moving to the door. He held it open for me like a true gentleman. But that was part of his pull—the mix of polite care and ruthless demand. It was a heady combination.

I tried to ignore my swirling thoughts of Colt and stepped into the now-familiar bar. It was more crowded than I’d ever seen it. But that made sense; we were heading into a weekend, and the closer we got to true summer, the more tourists would descend on the small town.

I saw some familiar faces. Norm and Sam, the chess-playing duo, were at a table with beers as Mira and Celia sipped beers next to them. Ezra sat with a woman at the bar, nursing cocktails of some sort. The bikers, including the Jack-loving Ace, were in a corner. And Trey slung drinks behind the bar.

A hand pressed into my back as Colt bent, his lips brushing my ear. “I’ll be at the bar.”

I nodded, quickly searching out Baker. It didn’t take me long to find him. His blond hair, which looked fake in the lights of the bar, stood out. I wove my way through the crowd until I got to the table in the corner.

The way the four-top was angled, the only seat that gave me a good vantage point meant sitting next to him. Not next to him like we were a couple on a date, but on two edges of a corner. Still too close for comfort. But I lowered myself to the chair anyway.

“You’re late,” Baker snapped.

I rolled my eyes. “Your watch is always set five minutes early.”

He grumbled something under his breath. “I ordered you french fries and that god-awful whiskey you love so much.”

Baker’s knowledge of my favorite things had me softening toward him slightly. When he’d first picked me up under his production company, he’d come on the road with me for a week. He’d been appalled by what I consumed. At that point in time, I was living out of vending machines and drive-throughs, but I’d also been twenty-three, and nothing could hold me back. Not even living on eighty-two million chemical concoctions.

“Thank you.” I leaned back in my chair. “What are you still doing here?”

Annoyance flicked through his gray eyes. “Trying to make sure my star podcaster doesn’t bite it because she’s being absolutely reckless.”

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