Bad Intentions (Bad Love #2)(30)

“True.”

“Plus, he’s not home tonight.”

He’s not around much, though I can’t fault him for that since he told us as much in the beginning. I know he sleeps in the room above his shop, but I’ve wondered if maybe he’s got a lady friend he’s staying with, too. It would explain why he doesn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry to find a new place.

“Any idea where we’re going to stay once our time here is up?” Jess asks before he mutters a curse and flicks the roach back into the ashtray. He shakes his hand and then inspects his singed fingertips.

“I’ll figure it out.”

Somehow.





* * *





“ARE YOU HIGH?” CORDELL ASKS once his last client is out the door. I’m drinking a beer on the couch in the drawing room, waiting to close up shop.

“High on life.” I don’t know what he’s referring to, but I’d bet my left nut it has something to do with Lo.

“You don’t hire chicks. Especially ones that look like her.” He points a finger toward the front desk, where Lo worked all day.

It’s not a secret that she’s fucking gorgeous, but the irrational part of me wants to throttle Cord for even noticing. I don’t know why or how she pulls this reaction from me, but I need to get this shit in check, so I don’t respond. He’ll drop it if I pretend not to care.

“Especially one that you’re into.”

It’s an accusation—one that I can’t ignore. It’s not that it’s against my rules to hire women. I just haven’t in a long time—for two reasons. It’s not anything against them. On the contrary. Men are territorial sons of bitches for one, and when more than one is interested in a colleague, shit gets ugly fast. I’ve seen it happen firsthand. The second reason is that there is a shortage of female artists in the area. All the good ones work in the bigger cities.

“Who said I’m into her?” I keep my tone bored, unaffected.

“Uh, anyone with eyes? You didn’t take yours off her the entire time she was here. I’m surprised your client didn’t end up with her fucking portrait on his back.”

“Is there a point to this little chat?” Patience is not something I have a lot of as it is, so it’s pretty much nonexistent right now.

“Just making sure you know what you’re doing, man.”

“I’m not doing anything. We needed help, so I hired help. Isn’t that what you’ve been bitching at me to do for the last six months?”

“Whatever you say. By the way, this came for you earlier. I had to sign for it.” He tosses an envelope onto the cushion next to me.

“Thanks.”

I tear open the envelope, wondering what’s so important that it required a signature. In the upper left corner, it lists a name and address of a business that I don’t recognize.



To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing this letter to declare my interest in buying your property in River’s Edge, California. I’ve attached my business plan along with an offer. I’m willing to work with your attorney or handle this personally, whichever you’re more comfortable with. Please contact me with any questions you may have.



I crumple the papers up and toss them into the trash can next to my desk without even looking at his offer. It’s not the first time someone has tried to buy Bad Intentions. We’re in a prime location, right smack in the middle of what I like to refer to as the tourist trap of River’s Edge. It’s the first thing everyone sees coming into town, right next to the bars and casinos. Too bad I have exactly zero interest in selling. This place means more to me than anything or anyone ever has. You can’t put a price tag on that.

“What was that about?”

“Someone wants to buy the shop.”

Cordell snorts out a laugh, knowing I’d sooner chop off my own dick than sell. “I’m going to clean up my station, then grab a beer with Cam. You in?”

“Nah, I’m good.” I stand, making my way to my desk to bury myself in a sketch, mostly so I don’t have to see the disappointed look I know will be on his face. Cam’s usually too busy to go out between his snowboarding career and his new role as a family man, so I should stop being an asshole and just go, but I’m not in the mood.

“All right, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Alec isn’t too far behind Cord, and soon I have the shop to myself. I’m almost back to the drawing room when I hear it. A muffled ringtone coming from the front of the shop.

Someone must’ve forgotten their phone.

The ringing stops, only to start right back up again. I figure whoever is calling is looking for their phone, so reluctantly I make my way back up front, following the sound. I find it in one of the drawers of the front desk, so it must be Logan’s.

“Hello?”

“Who the fuck is this?” It’s a man’s voice. A very angry man’s voice. Does she have a boyfriend? Seems like that should’ve come up…ideally, before we hooked up.

“Who’s this?” I throw the question back at him.

“Where’s Logan?”

“Busy.” Some instinct tells me not to tell this guy a damn thing. He’s quiet for a minute before responding.