One of them. Part of his world. The thought should terrify me, and it does, but there’s relief there too.
“I appreciate what you’re doing.” I meet his eyes, let him see that I mean it. “Having someone like you on my side... it’s been so hard dealing with Viktor alone. Having a friend who?—”
“We’re not friends.”
The words cut through my sentence like a blade. His gaze drops to his drink, and his jaw goes tight again.
“This is business. That’s all.”
Hurt flickers through me, but I push it down. He’s building walls again. Fine. I can handle that.
“Right,” I say lightly. “Business.”
“I’ll still walk you home tonight.” His voice is flat. “In case he’s waiting.”
“Sure.” I push off the bar, already turning away. “Thanks for the heads-up on what this is.”
I don’t look back as I head toward the row of waiting customers. Don’t let him see the way my smile falters or how my hands aren’t quite steady as I grab for a bottle of vodka.
But as I pour drinks and make small talk and pretend everything is fine, a smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.
He can build all the walls he wants. He can call this business and pretend he doesn’t care. But I saw his face when I mentioned Viktor driving by my apartment. I heard the rough edge in his voice when he admitted he doesn’t like seeing women get hurt.
Matteo isn’t as cold as he wants me to believe.
And when I catch him watching me a few minutes later, something tightens low in my belly. Something I don’t have time for right now.
I turn back to my customers and pretend I don’t feel his gaze on my skin for the rest of my shift.
10
MATTEO
I’m parkedoutside Sierra’s building, engine idling, fingers drumming against the steering wheel.
Ring shopping. That’s what today is. Taking a woman I barely know to pick out an engagement ring for a fake marriage designed to piss off a man I want to kill.
My life is fucking weird.
The building door swings open. Sierra steps out into the morning sun, and my breath stalls.
She’s wearing shorts that hug her thick thighs and a loose top that does nothing to hide the curves underneath. Her blonde hair catches the light, falling around her shoulders in soft waves.
Christ.
I grip the steering wheel harder.
She spots my truck and heads straight for it, her walk confident despite the nervous energy I can read in the set of her shoulders.When she climbs into the passenger seat, her vanilla scent fills the cab immediately.
“Hey.” She gives me a flat smile. “So. We’re really doing this.”
“That’s the plan.”
I pull away from the curb. She fidgets with the hem of her shorts, and I can practically hear the thoughts racing through her head before she opens her mouth.
“I never thought I’d be ring shopping under these circumstances,” she says. “I always imagined it would be, I don’t know, romantic. Candlelit dinner first. Maybe some wine. Definitely not a business transaction with a guy who looks like he wants to murder someone.”
“I do want to murder someone.”
