Dirty Little Secrets (Dirty Little #1)(2)

“You have nothing to thank me for,” he replies. “I hate that we live in a world where my ‘no’ carries more weight than yours does.”

Oh, he’s good. It’s a little difficult to get a read on him, but I don’t think he’s feeding me a line here. I want to believe him, that much is true.

“I’m going to grab a drink. Can I get you anything?”

“No,” I reply, tapping my glass. “I’m good, thank you.”

“Would you like some company, or-”

“Yes,” I reply without even a moment’s hesitation. “I’d love some company.” He’s handsome and friendly, and I suppose it’s better to be safe than sorry, just in case the guy who was just hitting on me decides to come back. I’d also like to be in this man’s presence for a little while longer, strange as that seems. I’m just not ready for him to leave yet.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

“Mia.” Immediately I wonder if I should’ve given him a fake name. That probably would’ve been the smart thing to do, but it’s too late now.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mia,” he says, offering me his hand. I reach out and take it, feeling a little thrill shoot through me when we touch. “I’m Caleb.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

“I’ll be right back,” he tells me, his hand lingering in mine until he absolutely has to pull away.

My stomach swoops as he walks away, and I’m in trouble, I know it. It’s not the kind of trouble I’ve been running away from for the past three days, though; it’s the kind of trouble that makes me want to run toward it, full speed, even though I know it’s probably a terrible idea.

While Caleb walks over to the other side of the bar, he watches me out of the corner of his eye. I’m not sure if he’s doing it because he thinks I’m going to get up and walk away, or because he wants to make sure the guy who was hitting on me doesn’t return. Either way, I feel comforted in a way that I haven’t since I figured out that Privya and his goons were onto me, and I needed to get out of Chicago as soon as possible.

Caleb glances my way from the bar, and he smiles at me. It’s not the sweet, helpful smile that he gave me earlier, when he was dispatching the douchebag. No, this smile has heat behind it; it makes the hairs on my arms stand on end with anticipation. This smile makes me want him. Badly.

Despite my body’s apparent desire to get completely swept up by this man’s charms and looks, my mind keeps replaying this niggling thought that this could be some kind of trap. Maybe I’m not as on top of Privya and his whereabouts as I think I am. My computer skills are stellar—which is how I got myself into this mess in the first place—but there’s the slightest chance that I’m wrong about where he is. I’ve been planting false trails around Chicago to fool him into thinking that I haven’t left town. What if he’s doing the same?

I’m reasonably sure that Privya wouldn’t go so far as to have one of his men hit on me in a bar. If he has enough intel on me to know I’m staying in this hotel, then he’d just show up at my door and kidnap me or something. Men like him don’t have much finesse, they just see their objective and take aim. Besides, any professional criminal would never leave me alone, giving me the chance to escape, while he went to the bar to get himself some scotch.

No, this is just a handsome man with a good streak in him. I shouldn’t look into it any more than that.

I catch Caleb’s eye while he’s in the middle of a conversation with the bartender that I can tell he desperately wants to get out of. I attempt a seductive slide off of my barstool, if such a thing is even possible, then reach down and grab my bag. Caleb’s face brightens when he sees me heading his way, and I can feel him watching me. It’s not the look of a man who is after me for things that I’ve done, it’s the look of a man who wants to do things to me. Filthy, wonderful things. The look is…it’s too much. It sends a jolt of anticipatory panic through my veins, and like a coward, I take a detour and head left.


Right into the ladies’ room.

There isn’t anyone in here, thankfully, and I take a second to stare at my reflection in the mirror. With chocolate brown hair, hazel eyes, and my head held high, no one would take me for a coward. No one would take me for a criminal, either, though I’m definitely one of those now. Even though I stole from a terrible person for noble reasons, I’m still a thief, aren’t I?

An impulsive, cowardly thief.

I have a man who is looking at me like he wants to devour me, and I walk into the bathroom? How I’ve ever managed to get laid is beyond me.

I want to go back to the bar and talk to Caleb. I want to see where this thing between us goes. I need this. I need the stress relief. I want it, too. I want to lose myself in the arms of a handsome stranger, even if it is just for one night.

Running my fingers through my hair, I take a deep, cleansing breath. What do I have to lose if I spend one night with him?

As long as he’s not one some kind of a decoy, absolutely nothing.

No, he’s not a decoy. He’s not. I know it in my bones.

I readjust my bag on my shoulder before I make my way back into the bar. I don’t see Caleb at first, but then I feel his fingertips slide along the crook inside my elbow. The touch is light, but full of intent. He wants me to turn around, but he doesn’t want to force it.