His mind kept slipping back to Opal. Their night was…fucking amazing on a physical level. And…throwing him off-balance when he thought of just how intimate it had been.
Lurid images of Opal flashed through his mind. The pink in her cheeks when he pressed on her clit and fingerfucked her to a gasping orgasm. Her lips parted as he entered her. The way her eyelids dipped over her smoldering black eyes when he commanded her to touch herself.
When she shattered in his arms, then curled close to him, as unwilling to break the moment as he was.
Christ. He braced his boots in the gravel and directed his attention to the site again. A small group of workers were mixing mortar for the last section of the retaining wall. Two supervisors had a blueprint stretched between them, heads lowered to study it.
Sinner checked Opal’s location. Two small dots overlapped on the screen, showing the location of the tracker he placed in her pocket and another in her shoe.
Some of the tightness in his chest eased when he saw she was still at the office. When he sent her a text, he told himself it was part of the op, nothing more, and he made sure to keep the conversation centered on their fake marriage.
How’s the job?
Her response came instantly, as if she was waiting for it.
Hanging on. If I never see another spreadsheet, it’ll be too soon.
His lips quirked at the undertone of irritation, picturing her in a tiny cubicle, her back straight as always.
He didn’t rush his response.You eat lunch?
After a pause, her words popped on the screen.Same turkey sandwich as always. No surprises.
According to Dante and Elin, Cipher would be actively scouring things like random text streams between a happily married yet financially dysfunctional couple.
Chili for dinner, honey bun?he texted.
There was a longer delay this time. He resisted the urge to fill the dead air and worked even harder to keep his mind off reasons why she was hesitating. But several minutes later, her answer came.
I was thinking pizza, cute buns.
His mouth twitched again. Even if their banter was completely for show, he liked to believe she really enjoyed his buns.
So I’m cooking tonight after laboring all day?
No one makes pizza like you.
He stared at the screen longer than necessary. In a short time, she’d already learned that much about him. He was used to the guys ribbing him about his skill with dough, but Opal made it feel a little more personal. Not in a bad way, in an I-see-you way.
She was the only person who would actually understand why he turned to his craft in the kitchen if he told her.
I see what I mean to you. Crispy crust, cheesy inside.
Her response was immediate.You’re very dramatic for a man in love with his slow cooker.
A shadow crossed his peripheral vision.
“Franklin.”
He looked up to see his supervisor standing there, clipboard tucked against his ribs. The man’s eyes flicked once to the phone, then back to Sinner’s face. “Office.” He didn’t bother to soften it.
Sinner rose without comment and followed, totally aware of his surroundings out of habit. The office was a small trailer they moved from site to site, cramped and utilitarian.
He turned to Sinner. “Look, I need you to actually try working. The guys are starting to complain about you. If I don’t appear to address their complaints, I’m going to have a mutiny.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. Let’s see it.”
