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He was an intriguing man, and she couldn’t get enough of him. The memory of his thumb sliding along her lip had her licking her lips. She had thought he was going to kiss her, and she had been disappointed when he’d pulled back from her.
“My brother can’t shoot a gun for shit.” He laughed then gulped his coffee. His deep baritone voice washed over her, and his laugh was infectious.
“And you are a perfect shot?” She lifted an eyebrow at him, leaning forward and resting her elbow on the table.
Any little morsel of his life that he shared with her was absorbed. All she had known before was that he was a cop. It was rumored that he’d been in the service, and now she had it confirmed.
“As perfect as a human can be,” he admitted, sitting his mug down. His heated gaze took her breath away. “Someday I’d like to take you to the shooting range and show you.”
“Is that a date?” Her eyebrow rose even higher. She bit her lip and knew she was flirting.
She couldn’t stop herself.
Dallas McNeil was a man who had her full attention, and she intended for him to put her out of her misery.
He was a good man.
He was safe.
And he was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on.
Her attention moved to his hands, and the air escaped her lungs. They were large, powerful, and she knew they were the hands of a man who would know how to work her body.
His eyes darkened, and his gaze dropped down to her breasts. Her nipples grew into taut little buds, pushing against her shirt as if vying for his attention.
“Will you, Candi? Go out with me?” he asked. His voice grew husky, and he flickered his gaze to hers.
Her core clenched with the pure hunger in his eyes.
Movement at the checkout counter snagged her attention. She froze in place, recognizing the man who was not hiding that he was staring at her.
Moody Perlino.
He was an associate of her husband’s, and him seeing her out with another man was news she was sure would get back to Lamont.
She’d heard things about Moody and how he’d come by his name. A shudder rippled its way through her body. Before her husband had gone to prison, he had begun hanging with a rough crowd. She wasn’t sure what he was involved in but knew it wasn’t legal.
“What’s wrong?” Dallas asked.
Moody’s gaze shifted to Dallas who returned the stare. Moody broke off the staring contest first when the young woman behind the counter brought him his order. He grabbed the bag and once again glanced over at Candi.
His head tipped into a slight nod, then he was gone, disappearing through the front door.
Her heart slammed against her chest. She stood abruptly from the table, her hands visibly shaking as she grabbed her purse.
“Candi.”
“I have to go,” she muttered. She dug through her bag trying to find her wallet. Seeing Moody had brought back too many memories of her husband and was a reminder that she should have left Las Vegas once Lamont had gone to jail. She blinked back tears. She had been a fool to try to stay here. “Here, I’ll pay for breakfast—”
“No.” The hardness in Dallas’s voice snapped her out of the fog.
His eyes narrowed in on her. He stood from their booth and grabbed her hand. His eyes searched hers, and a storm rolled in on his face.
Dallas was pissed.
“I told you I wanted to repay you for everything you’ve done.” She tried to push the hysteria down that was growing inside her chest. Her hand connected with the few bills that were sticking out of her wallet, and she pulled them out.
“And I told you to just keep the coffee coming,” Dallas murmured. He gently pushed her hand back until it met her chest. “If you need to leave, I’ll take you home.”
