It followed a route it clearly knew by heart—around the corner, down two blocks, across a patch of uneven grass—all while pulling her along with cheerful indifference.
When it spotted another dog across the street, it lunged, a low woof of enthusiasm her only warning, and Opal lost her footing on the cracked pavement. She went downhard, knee biting into concrete, the leash burning across her palm as she fought to keep hold.
By the time she wrestled the dog back to the house and returned it to its very pleased owners, she was limping and bleeding, her mood as tattered as the knee of her borrowed pants.
She made it back to her car and sat there for a moment, staring straight ahead, breathing through the sharp throb in her knee. This—this—was what her day had become. Fake job. Fake marriage. Two days in a row she went back to the hotel scraped and bleeding.
She fumbled through the glove compartment, shoving aside fake ownership and insurance papers, and found two crinkled tissues. She pressed one to the scrape, wincing, already exhausted by an op that was just getting started.
By the time she climbed the stairs to the hotel room, her knee throbbed and her patience was gone. She fumbled with the keycard, already rehearsing how she was going to explain another injury to the SEAL without sounding like a wimp.
She swung the door open and stopped short.
Sinner stood in the kitchenette, a pizza in hand, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Then the smell hit her—hot dough, tomato sauce, delicious grease—and her stomach rumbled in an audible growl.
He raked a look over her and abruptly dropped the pizza pan on the counter. That dark scowl he wore made her forget that her knee stung, and the flex of his biceps as he reached for her took her mind on an entirely different path.
“What the hell happened? Did that drug dealer come for you?”
She shook her head. “Dog.”
A crease appeared between his brows. “A dog did this to you?”
“I got a job on that stupid task app Dante hooked up for me. Walking a dog. Only it wasn’t a small dog. It was a newfoundland.”
He looked her over, stare lingering on the ripped knee of her trousers. “Come here. Let me clean your cut.”
Before she could protest, he picked her up. Just plucked her off her feet and spun toward the counter. He set her down gently and leaned in to examine the injury through the ragged tear in the cloth.
“I’m going to take off your pants.” Warm brown eyes met hers, doing just as much to her insides as his words did.
Her stomach growled again, and she forgot about her libido in favor of a slice of the homemade pizza Sinner was famous for on the team.
She started to slip off the counter but he was right there, hands on her waist, lifting her gently to the floor. She toed off the boots and pushed her pants down her hips. She didn’t get to step out of them before he lifted her and set her on the counter again.
“I’m gonna need that first-aid kit.”
“I’m gonna need a slice of pizza.” She tilted sideways to snag one. Watching the muscled SEAL turn to the dresser where he’d set the first-aid kit, Opal brought the pizza to her lips.
The instant the flavors hit her tongue, she forgot all about her knee. By the time he returned, she was happily devouring the food.
“I’m starving,” she said around a bite by way of apology.
He gently probed the edge of the bruise. “Not in the mood for your turkey sandwich?”
“I didn’t have time to eat. I was too busy looking for drug deals and being dragged down the street by a hundred-fifty-pound squirrel chaser.” She made a noise—part humor, part appreciation for the food as she swallowed another delicious bite.
Sinner’s eyes simmered with an emotion she couldn’t name. As he inspected the cut, he issued a grunt. “It’s nasty.”
“I’ve had worse. Just clean it and put a bandage on it.” Spices danced on her tongue, who cared about a cut knee?
As he worked, she gave him the short version of meeting the big dog who outweighed her by a good fifty pounds and howhewalkedheraround the block.
He made a sound that might have been a chuckle and knelt in front of her. The scrape was angry, but superficial, and she watched his long fingers—that had been inside her—as he cleaned the wound.
At that moment, her phone chimed.
He stiffened, pausing in cleaning her wound.
