Page 8

“Good,” he repeated, not moving.

Angel finally looked back at him. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked.

“Like you're waiting for me to change my mind,” she said.

“Maybe I am,” he admitted.

“I won't,” she insisted.

“Maybe you will,” Hammer countered.

She smiled sadly at him. “You don't know me.”

“Then let me get to know you, Angel,” he said. Her smile vanished. Jackhammer hadn't planned on saying it. Hell, he wasn't even sure where it came from.

Angel took a step backward. “That isn't a good idea.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because,” she whispered.

“That isn't an answer,” he said.

“It's the only one you're getting,” she insisted. She pulled open the SUV door. This time, Jackhammer let her. But before she climbed inside, he caught her wrist—not hard, but just enough to stop her.

“Come to the Halloween party,” he said.

“Jackhammer—” she breathed.

“It’s just one night,” he said. She stared at him. He used her own words against her. “One party. No promises. No expectations. Come have a drink. Wear some ridiculous costume. Make fun of Monster's decorations.”

“Larry was pretty bad,” she teased. “But I don’t have a costume.”

“Larry was fucking terrible,” Jackhammer growled. She smiled, and he knew he had her. “It’s three and a half weeks from now,” he said. “That should give you plenty of time to find a costume.

“I thought it was four weeks,” she teased.

“Apparently, the Prez controls time now,” he mumbled under his breath.

Angel laughed softly. “Fine.”

His heart kicked. “Fine?”

“I'll think about it,” she promised.

“That isn't yes,” he said.

“It isn't no either,” she pointed out.

He released her wrist. “I'll take it.” She climbed behind the wheel. Jackhammer shut her door, then tapped the glass.

Angel rolled it down. “What?”

“Get that tire replaced,” he ordered.

She rolled her eyes. “Bossy.”