Ruthless Creatures by J.T. Geissinger

“So I thought about what you said. Last night.” I clear my
throat. “You know.”
His voice goes husky. “I do. And?”
“And…” I take a breath, gather my courage, and meet his
eyes.
“I’m flattered. You’re probably the most attractive man
I’ve ever met. But I haven’t been with anyone since my fiancé,
and I’m in a weird headspace right now, and I don’t think a
fling with a hot stranger would be good for me. Fun and
amazing, but ultimately not good for me.”
We stare at each other. He looks serious and intense, his
dark eyes locked on to mine.
Just when I’m afraid I’ll burst into hysterical laughter from
sheer stress, he murmurs, “Okay. I respect that. Thank you for
being honest with me.”
Why am I sweating? What’s happening with my heart? Am
I having some kind of medical emergency?
Wiping my sweaty palms on the front of my jeans, I say,
“So we’ll just be neighbors, then.”
He draws a breath, rakes a hand through his hair, and
glances toward his house. “Not for long. The house will go on
the market in the next few weeks.”
Why that should make me feel so deflated, I’m not sure.
After all, you can’t get your money laundered if you don’t sell
the real estate you’re trying to launder it through.
I’ll think about why that knowledge doesn’t bother me
later.
“I’m out of here tonight, anyway.”
“Tonight? What about your job?”
He meets my eyes. In his own, I see heat, darkness, and
too many secrets to count.
“Job’s done.”