“That’s the one.”
“Well, shit. This just got interesting.”
“I need to know if she’s clean.”
“I’m guessing not just from STDs?” Aiden chuckles. “You planning on sticking your cock in places you shouldn’t, Sullivan?"
“Not if I can help it. But I want a full background check. Pull her high school transcripts if you have to. If there’s dirt, I want to know about it. Oh, and Aiden? Keep this to yourself.”
“I assume your brother doesn’t know you’re calling me.”
“Ronan’s made his choice, and I’m making mine.”
“You got it. I’ll dig around and see what I can find. It might take a couple of days.”
“That’s fine. Just don’t leave anything out.”
I hang up and tuck my phone into my pocket, feeling marginally better.
If Riley’s hiding something, Aiden will find it. And if she’s not? Well, then maybe I’ll start believing that she’s really on our side.
I decideto take a few detours on my way home and stop in on a few of the clubs that my brothers and I own. Some of them are above board, but the majority of them serve as fronts for various business ventures that we prefer to keep off the books.
By the time I get home, it’s almost lunchtime. I made an appointment with our family’s lawyer for this afternoon, so I can get him working on this ridiculous contract for Riley.
Right now, she feels like a live grenade who’s been strategically placed inside my apartment, and I want to stick a pin in whatever secret plans she has as soon as possible.
When I step off the elevator into the penthouse, I find Riley sitting at the kitchen island, eating a turkey sandwich.
I try not to bristle at the sight of her tucking into all of my groceries that I have specifically brought in from my favorite delis throughout New York.
It’s bad enough that she’s staying with me, but now she’s eating my food?
This girl is walking a very thin line.
“Finish up. We have to go.”
“Where?” she asks through a mouthful of food.
“You wanted a contract, so I’m getting you a contract. Let’s go before I change my mind.”
Riley hastily climbs off the stool, which instantly draws my attention to the fact she’s wearing another one of those pastel-colored tennis skirts that shows off her long, toned legs. Her skin is pale and creamy and ridiculously smooth, and I get the sudden urge to run my hands all over those thighs.
As my eyes trail up her body, I notice for the first time since she arrived that she’s not wearing her enormous hoodie. Instead, she’s wearing a matching strappy tank top in the same shade of lavender, and it turns out that Riley Walsh has quite the rack on her.
“Are you done?” She folds her arms over her chest in an attempt to hide her breasts, but it only pushes them together until they’re practically spilling out of her top.
“Not even a little.” I let my lips pull up into a smirk as I eye the swell of her breasts.
“Pig.”
“I don’t recall calling you such horrible slurs when you were checking me out yesterday.”
Riley’s eyes widen as her cheeks flood with color. “I was not checking you out!”
“Sure, you weren’t.”
“Unlike you, I don’t objectify people.”
