Page 9 of Capture My Heart

“No, there’s not a lot of people wanting to hire an ex-con.”

Trey’s head bobbed in agreement. “And the other? Your parole officer?”

Tommy narrowed his eyes. “Why do you care?”

Trey dropped the speed to a fast walk. He ignored Tommy’s question and asked one of his own. “Got any skills?”

Tommy’s foot slipped. He wobbled then regained his balance, but didn’t look all too steady when he asked, “What kind of skills? I left that life years ago.”

Trey’s brow climbed up his forehead. “Really?”

“I don’t need to take this shit from you.” He pushed the stop button with more force than needed and slipped off the treadmill.

Trey reached out a hand and stayed him. “Cool your jets. Good to know you aren’t in that life anymore, but I want to know what your qualifications for a job would be.”

“Like a legit job?”

The scrunch of Tommy’s face made it hard to hold in the laugh. “Maybe. I could use some help around here.”

His head bobbed and his lip crept up. “Yeah, I got skills. I’m good with numbers. Hell, at this point, I’d mop the floors if it paid.”

“Okay, drop off a resume and I’ll see if we can work something out.” He held out his hand. The younger man gripped it and pumped his arm.

“I will, thanks.”

Over Trey's shoulder a throat cleared. “What the hell is going on?”

Amy didn’t know much about her new neighbor, but when she walked in to find him chumming it up with her brother, every cop sense in her body buzzed to life.

Both men turned to her. A sheepish look flashed on Trey’s face before he smoothed it away, but Tommy just rolled his eyes like he did when he was ten.

“Jesus, Am, I’m just talking to your new landlord.”

Amy was aware of who Trey was. She’d watched his comings and goings since Butch, the ex-military gym owner, retired to Florida. Her rent payments still went to Old Muscle Gym, but it was clear that her new buff neighbor had more invested in this place that his apartment and some fly curls. She’d totally snoop his socials if she could find them. Several people had the same name but none of them were the Mr. Olympia standing in front of her.

She eyed him with speculation. “When did you take over, May?”

“April.” He crossed his arms over his chest and the bulging biceps pulled her attention. Oh yeah, he might as well have gym rat tattooed on his forehead. He sure had the body of a weightlifter. An image of him standing in a towel, water droplets pooling on the floor, took its place.

“Amy.” Tommy snapped his fingers inches from her face. “I said Trey might have a job for me. Isn't that great?”

She blinked away the sex-dream visual and forced her eyes to her brother. She narrowed her gaze. “What kind of job?”

The object of her suspicion chimed in. “I don’t know yet. He needs to give me his resume first, and then I’ll see if I have something for him.”

Doubt swam in her gut. She didn’t want to pee on her brother’s happy moment, but who offers an ex-con a job fresh out of prison if they don’t know him? An ex-con himself? Did he deal in steroids?

Her mind flooded with questions. Was he legit or would he pull Tommy into some bad shit? Damn, she wished she could search him in the National Crime Database. Too bad it was strictly monitored and she’d definitely get reprimanded, if not fired.

“Tommy, I’ll see you later. I have something I need to discuss with my tenant.” Trey’s brows pulled in.

Crap, she needed to school her expressions better.

Tommy turned to Amy, his face open and clueless to the impending conversation between her and Fenley. “Sure. I’m gonna grab an energy drink then I’ll be right up.”

“Sounds good.” When her brother headed toward the vending machines in the back, Amy turned to the entry where the stairs to her apartment were. She didn’t need to look back to know Trey followed. His presence was overpowering. Even with her hand-to-hand training, she wouldn’t want to run into him alone in a dark alley.

Once she unlocked the door and they started up the steps, she whirled to face him, taking full advantage of the height bump the steps gave her. At five-nine, she held her own with most guys, but Trey had a good six inches on her. “What’s your angle?”