Deadly Promises (Tracers #2.5)(8)

She’d never laughed so much. Once she got him to open up, he’d shared stories of setting up the gym and the people who worked for him. It was as if he’d never shared those stories with anyone else. She’d never spent so much time alone with a man who wasn’t family and realized she felt safe with Jeremy.

If not for her overzealous stepfamily of men who had sworn to her dying mother they’d protect CeCe, she’d enjoy getting to know Jeremy much better.

Jeremy opened the driver’s door on her dual-cab truck where the interior was covered in plastic. When she gained her place behind the wheel amid much crackling noise, he leaned in the opening and said, “See you… tonight.”

As if he meant to do exactly that.

Be still my heart.

Hormones were going to get her in big trouble if she stayed in that rental house so close to him. Vinny would never have approved the lease if he’d realized just what kind of man lived next door to her. The little old lady who owned both houses had assured Vinny her other renter—Jeremy—was a quiet man who traveled often and kept to himself.

A sweet guy who never brought women to his house.

God forgive her, CeCe had jumped on the speculative look in Vinny’s face the first time he glanced over at Jeremy limping around his yard. She realized Vinny had made the mental leap that Jeremy was gay. CeCe did everything she could to keep her brother convinced her neighbor was no threat to her.

Vinny might not be so at ease if he ever met Jeremy in person. He’d recognize another alpha and figure out quickly that her attractive next-door neighbor was not gay.

Not by a long shot.

Oh boy, had she screwed up or what?

If her defenses didn’t hold up Jeremy would be in trouble. Her brothers took overprotective to a whole new level and enforced a no-engagement rule with a .357 Magnum.

But she hadn’t moved here to live in hiding the way she had at home. The minute she convinced Vinny to return home to D.C. permanently she would rush next door to invite Jeremy on a date that would end up at her house… in her bed… with her.

Until then she had to keep away from him.





Two

Jeremy wheeled his Tahoe sport utility through the side roads heading home from Marietta Square and trying to beat CeCe back by taking the quickest route he knew. He felt like a teenager with his pulse racing, but he intended to arrive home in time to unload her fiberglass base and find out if he’d imagined that bedroom gaze she’d just given him.

Maybe he wasn’t the only one experiencing the attraction between them.

Maybe she wanted to give him a shot.

Or maybe he was just hoping that look she’d given him meant she wanted to lick him from head to toe.

All Shelilah had wanted was a set of skilled hands to stroke an itch.

When Jeremy politely backed out, Blade had shaken his head at him and led the two women to his car with the intent of appeasing both females tonight.

Jeremy didn’t care. Blade could have all the women in the world… except CeCe.

Whoa, hold it. That smacked of sounding… possessive.

A date. That was all he was trying to accomplish with Cece, to start.

Swinging into the driveway of his ranch-style brick home, he parked, not wasting time to stuff his truck in the garage.

CeCe pulled into her driveway a few seconds later.

Jeremy jumped out and reached the driver’s side of her truck bed in several quick strides. He lifted the base from the back.

“I can unload that,” she complained, climbing out of the truck and leaving a dusty white trail. Her garage door finished opening with a groan exposing the single-car storage space cluttered with packing boxes that prevented parking inside.

Jeremy ignored her. “Where do you want it?”

CeCe sighed then pointed at a spot in her garage with a chalky outline left from where she’d obviously stored the fiberglass unit before. He carried it over and dropped the base into place. The overhead fluorescent lights flickered on.

When he turned around CeCe was standing next to the switch by the door to her mudroom. White-dusted hair fell loose from the twisted-up ’do she’d worn earlier. Sweat drizzled along her face and streaked the coating over her shoulders.

She’d wiped most of the makeup off her face, revealing her eyes and lips. “I look like a bad Halloween costume.”

“No, you look… sweet.” He stepped closer and used a finger to lift a lock of powdered hair that had broken free and pushed it behind her ear. “And sexy.” She didn’t move. He trailed the same finger down her neck and across her shoulder.

She shivered.

Damn it, he wanted this woman. She wasn’t the kind of woman to date casually. For once, he considered that a good thing if she said yes, which was why he had to get it over with and ask her out. The sooner he got an answer, the sooner he’d either be in heaven or licking his wounds and leaving a day early for the BAD headquarters in Nashville, Tennessee.

The overhead fixture in the center of her garage flashed on and off, then made a sizzling sound.

“I’ll have to get a bulb out of the attic,” she mumbled, still not moving. Her eyes were locked on him, but he couldn’t tell if she was daring him to take the next move or preparing to back away if he did.

“It’s probably not a bulb.” He lowered his hand. She might be more receptive if he gave her time to shower first.