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It wasn’t dangerous. Just a little…gross.

“She’ll forgive me.”

“Sure,” he said, sounding totally unconvinced.

Cade pulled down the drive, and the anticipation of seeing Whitney again after a long day without her—she had the day off, much to my disappointment—coursed through me like adrenaline. When we pulled up to the house, Whitney was already outside. She was on her knees, covered in dirt, pruning the flowers in the garden we’d planted together last year. She loved that fucking garden, and she looked so damn beautiful surrounded by the prettiest flowers.

She turned toward us when she heard the car, wiping sweat from her brow. A smudge of dirt ran across her temple now.

I reached for the door handle, turning to Cade. “What’re you doin’ tonight? Wanna stay for a beer?”

Cade drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, quiet for a moment. He shook his head, looking off into the distance. “No, I’ve got something to do.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. There was something he wasn’t telling me, I knew that. He’d been keeping secrets for a long time, and I’d let him have them, but at some point, I’d make him come clean. Waiting for him to be ready to tell me meant I’d never know, so I’d force it out of him soon.

For now, I’d let him keep his secrets.

“Fine. Be safe or I’ll fucking kill you.”

He huffed. “Yeah, fuck off. See you tomorrow.”

I jumped from the truck, and Cade sped off as soon as the door was shut. I turned back to the house—to Whitney—and grinned.

And immediately, her eyes dropped to my shirt. She frowned, pointing at it with her pruning shears. “Court McNair, what the fuck is that?”

Ah, fuck. The way she said my name like that…

I stepped closer, licking my lips. “Am I in trouble?” I asked. She tightened her grip around the pruning shears, like she wanted to stab me with them, and I moved closer. “Maybe you should punish me.”

With an angry sound, she threw the pruning shears to the ground and marched up to me, fisting my shirt and yanking it away from my body.

Fuck, this was torture. Sweet, delicious, torture.

“Is this…blood?” As soon as she realized it was, in fact, blood, her anger shifted to panic, and guilt replaced the desire winding through me. She lifted my shirt, her hands tracing every inch of my skin as she searched for a wound. Fine, my desire wasn’t completely gone, but how could it be when she was touching me like that? “What happened? Are you okay?”

I grabbed her hands. “It’s not mine.”

She froze, then glared up at me. “Are you fucking serious? What the fuck have you been doing? If you’ve⁠—”

I cupped her face and kissed her lips, and she melted into me with a frustrated groan. I took my time tasting her, then nipped her bottom lip and pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes. I tapped my forehead against hers and whispered, “I missed you.”

She bit my bottom lip in retaliation. “Don’t try and distract me. What the hell were you doing?”

I bit her nose and she shoved at my chest while I laughed. “I just did a quick job for Frank. Nothing dangerous, I promise.”

“What was the job?”

“Just a quick transport.”

“Of what?”

“Of a…body.”

“What! What the fuck, Court, I told you⁠—”

I pulled her into me, sliding my hand down to her ass and squeezing. “It wasn’t dangerous. I wouldn’t break my promise.” Leaning down, I hoisted her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist, bracing her hands on my shoulders. “Now tell me what you’ve been doing all day, sweetheart.”

She sighed, blushing at the endearment. She loved all the different pet names I called her, though she rarely admitted it. “Fine. I made a casserole, but I don’t know if it’s edible. Vincent gave me the recipe, but…” She shrugged. “He probably wrote it wrong just to fuck with me.”