Chapter
Three
Somehow, they got through the paperwork required by the work program for Trixie to hire Cayden. At his request, she promised not to reveal his history to the others under her employ. Apparently, that was how he’d been fired from his last three jobs. Ridiculous. People just needed to get over themselves.
Mr. Cocky Biker’s true arrogance made his presence known when she’d asked for a list of his skills. Apparently, he didn’t just steal cars. He could paint, repair, and maintain them, too. He also still wanted to update her security. It did not pass her notice that he kept talking about keeping her just as safe as her merchandise.
Damn, but the man was sexy. Jeff, her head mechanic, was going to eat him up and spit him out for breakfast. Trixie was looking forward to seeing that. It would be good for Cayden to get knocked down a peg or two.
She also picked up on the fact that both Peggy and Greg had been in on the plot to get her to hire him. Peggy had implied a more personal reason she should take him on, whereas Greg was all about making sure Trixie was safe. Peggy likely saw a future romance that was not there. Greg just saw Cayden as a means to secure Trixie’s safety.
Trixie could definitely see herself sleeping with Cayden. There was no denying she was attracted to him. Now that he was an employee, she was going to have to keep her hands and thoughts to herself. Cayden was only in the program for four more months. She could survive four months of lustful thoughts before the state set him free on the world.
Unfortunately for Peggy’s wishful thinking, Trixie was not a relationship type of girl. After what she and her family had gone through with AJ, Trixie had sworn off them. So maybe her reward at the end of his parole could be a one-night-only down-and-dirty fuck that would satisfy her for some time.
Both Cayden and Trixie filled out forms for the work program. He could start working once the shop was approved as a viable workplace. Earliest would be the upcoming Wednesday, latest would be the following Monday. Trixie wasn’t sure which she was hoping for.
Glancing at his paperwork as he handed it back to Greg, she took notice of Cayden’s birthdate. He was twenty-seven. She wasn’t sure if she had been expecting that. She hadn’t thought much about his age, though she had assumed him to be older than her. After some quick math, she determined that he was by about twenty months.
Once they both turned in their forms, Trixie stood. She told Greg she’d give him the shop’s employment forms for Cayden tomorrow when he stopped by with Geordi for his tour of the cars. That reminded her she needed to text Joey to put Geordi’s tour on her calendar for the next day, or she’d completely forget. Pulling out her phone, she also included needing a new employment packet set up.
How exactly had this come about? She’d been so adamant that she didn’t want to hire or need to hire Cayden. And now, he was hired. How the hell had that happened?
She bristled, her back stiffening, when Cayden announced he’d walk her to her car. As long as he remained on the house property, he was allowed outside after dark. Her car was parked on the street opposite the house. All she needed to do was make it to the edge of the grass, and she would be free of him.
Damn, why did that thought hurt? And why the fuck was she wondering if he had plans to kiss her goodnight?
It was times like this she wished she hadn’t sworn off alcohol. She needed a drink but, after what had happened with AJ, she’d promised herself that she’d never touch a drop.
Cayden stopped her with a hand on her elbow as soon as she stepped out of the house. He closed the door behind him. They stood on Peggy’s welcome mat. Her flats nearly touching his bare feet. He hadn’t put shoes on to step outside.
She cocked her head. He had nice feet. She’d inherited her father’s feet. Though smaller than her hermanos’, their second big toe was all the same length as their big toe, just like Papá’s. Not for the first time, she wished her mother had stuck around. What were her feet like?
A gentle hand under her chin pushed her face up towards his. This was it. He was going to kiss her. Trixie’s heart thumped loudly in anticipation. Why wasn’t she pulling away?
There was an amused glint in his mismatched eyes when hers finally met his. She also noticed that his right hand was still on her elbow and his left remained under her chin. If he cupped her face, there was no doubt in her mind she’d lean into the hold.
What the hell was wrong with her?
“I still did not give you permission to touch me, Mr. Russo.”
When she made to step back, he tightened his grip. The amusement faltered into annoyance for just a second and then returned. He leaned in but didn’t touch his lips to hers. Their faces were close, though. His afternoon stubble was shadowed by the porch light, giving him a gruff, smoldering look. She wondered what that would feel like against her cheeks if she leaned in.
She only had to lean in…
“I don’t know what thoughts are running through your head right now, but damn do I wish I had access to them.” His lips twitched. “You are such a contradiction, like an open and coded book in the same binding. Sometimes, I can see everything on your mind, and other times, I swear I need a cipher to figure you out.”
She swallowed, hating how nervous and excited she felt. She was not some teen waiting to be picked up for her first date! Of course, with her lack of dating experience, she might as well be.
“Trix.” His voice deepened as he said her nickname.
She forced her eyes closed. She couldn’t concentrate when he was this close, his intense eyes boring into hers. She needed to get her mind straight, but closing her eyes only heightened the delicious scent of him.
Without opening her eyes, she asked, “Was it your idea to work at the shop? How did you get Greg and Peggy in on it?”
“Open your eyes.” She didn’t. He waited. Finally, he let out a sigh. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek. “Mr. Wynn was the one who actually persuaded me.”
She made a face. She should have known. Peggy probably added her piece after she thought there might be something romantic between them. Trixie snorted. If Peggy saw them now, Trixie would have a hard time convincing her otherwise.
“Open your eyes, Trix.” She really should stop him from calling her ‘Trix’. That was reserved for family. No one but Peggy, Greg, and her hermanos called her that. She was Trixie. She felt his breath on her ear, and a shiver ran through her. “Open your eyes, Trix, or I won’t kiss you.”
Her eyes snapped open as he lifted his head. God-fucking-damn it! Betrayed by her own eyelids.
His smile widened as if he’d just won the lottery. A shiver ran through her. Damn, but he was hot when he looked at her like that. She wished she’d put a bra on to come here now. Maybe she could blame her perky nipples on the night air.
Cayden started to lean in slowly. His eyes never left hers, his lips aimed at hers. She wanted to leave them open, she wanted to see this, but her damn lids fluttered closed again. Actually fluttered. Was this man a magician?
But his lips never touched hers. Her brows scrunched in frustration. What was taking him so long? Annoyed, she opened her eyes.
He was right there. Not a mere inch from her face, just staring at her. But his lips weren’t on hers. Why? Did she have something in her teeth?
“I need you to do something for me.”
Gooseflesh rose all over her body, and she swore her knees threatened to give out under her. It took her a moment to realize he was waiting for her to respond. She had to clear her throat a couple of times to get out the words. “What’s that?”
He moved his lips to her ear again and whispered, “I need you to trust me.”
Oh, and there went her knees. Fucking traitors! She stumbled, her hands reaching out to grab something to catch her. Which, of course, had to be his frickin’ rock-hard chest. Damn, what would those muscles feel like pressed against her? Her chest, her back… She wanted to wrap him around herself like a giant blanket.
“You have to earn my trust.” Good. That hadn’t come out cracked or as a whine. In fact, she was rather proud of how forceful it sounded.
At least to her. She both felt and heard his chuckle. “Every second of every day, that will be my goal.”
Fuck, why did that have to sound so appealing? Her fucking internal cheerleaders were doing flips and high kicks at his promise. “You’re a biker, an outlaw. I shouldn’t trust you.”
“I was a biker and an outlaw. I’m not claiming to be a saint, Trixie, and I’ll own what I am.”
His gaze was so intense that she had to clear her throat to find her voice. “You’re my employee now, Mr. Russo. We can’t be doing this.”
“Cayden.” Goddamn fucking knees, there they went again. She had to fist his shirt to keep herself upright. What was with his obsession with her ear? Why couldn’t he just talk to her like a normal person, face to face? “When we’re alone, my name is Cayden. Say it.”
Fuck. She had to keep some control. She had to at least act like he hadn’t woven a lust spell around her. “Mr. Russo—”
“Say it!” Though whispered, it was no less a demand.
Her grip on his shirt lessened. She locked her knees and stood up to her full height. With herculean effort, Trixie squared her shoulders and took a step back. She thanked all the gods in the universe she hadn’t stepped back off the edge. How embarrassing would that have been, to fall down the stairs?
Thankfully, he remained where he was, allowing the distance between them.
Her hands fisted at her sides, Trixie said with determination, “Mr. Russo, as I am sure legitimate employment is new to you, let me explain how sexual harassment in the workplace works. There is no fraternization between employees, nor is any disrespect for age, gender, sex, or ethnicity allowed. You will respect me as your boss and employer, and you will never put your hands on me again without explicit permission.”
She expected him to be angry, but he was amused. Was she wearing a frickin’ clown nose tonight?
He leaned in, but thankfully, kept his hands to himself. “How about we make a deal?”
“A deal?” What the hell did that mean?
He nodded once. “We can both agree that I’ve only been to Romero’s once, and I was in your showroom for maybe thirty minutes. Mind you, about fifteen of those were distracted by your sexy, motor oil aroma, so let’s call it fifteen minutes to case the place.” Trixie stiffened. Case? What the hell was he talking about? “I’ll even refrain from asking Mr. Wynn to let me tag along tomorrow when he brings Geordi to see you.”
Cayden reached up behind her head, removing the claw clip she’d been using to try to tame her hair for the evening.
“Here’s the deal: put my employment paperwork through and don’t sabotage your shop from passing the work program inspection. At some point during the week, say by closing time Friday afternoon, I will get past your security, break into one of your cars, and place this clip on the dashboard facing a security camera. If I can accomplish that, I get to kiss you with your explicit permission.”
Her hair now loose in the summer breeze, she gulped. “Won’t that violate your probation?”
“I’ll make sure Mr. Jones and Mr. Wynn are aware of my plans, and I’d appreciate a letter from my employer stating that this is a security test. Now, you can do whatever it is your little heart desires to bump up security, but do not inform any of your staff what I am going to do or that you’ve hired me.”
Curiosity got the better of her. Trixie took security of her babies very seriously. She’d even had a security consultant come in after she’d inherited the shop to make sure everything was secure. Did he truly believe that he could just walk into her showroom and break into one of the cars to place her claw clip inside?
“Why?” she couldn’t help but ask.
His shrug seemed too blasé for their topic of conversation. “To prove I can and that you need me. I don’t want your pity or your mistrust. I was hired to do a job, and this is how I do it. This is how I earn my way in the world.”
Was it odd that she respected that? She hadn’t hired him out of pity but out of guilt, courtesy of Peggy. He didn’t know that, thank God.
“You really think you can do it? Get past my security and break into one of my cars in broad daylight?”
“I know I can.” There was Mr. Cocky Biker. She’d been starting to miss him.
Her eyes narrowed. “And what do I get if you can’t?”
His confidence faltered. Just slightly, but she caught it. Was he doubting his abilities or her? “If I lose the bet, I’ll quit.”
“But you need this job?”
He nodded, “I do, and I appreciate it. But if I fail, then your security is good enough that you don’t need me.” He shrugged, drawing her eyes to those broad shoulders caked with muscle. Muscle she’d felt. “If I fail, it means you don’t need to waste your time hiring me.”
A kiss or his job? Was he serious?
He held out his hand to her. “Do we have a deal?”
“By Friday closing?” she asked again. He nodded once, his hand still waiting for her. Hesitantly, she reached forward. Their palms clasped, and she swore she felt a jolt of electricity course through her body. Man, her flickapedia fantasies just got a whole hell of a lot more material.
She forced her chin up and said, “Deal. Good night, Mr. Russo.”
Then she turned and walked down the steps. She let out a sigh of relief when she stepped off the Wynn property line where he couldn’t follow. She was to her car—a 2002 Pontiac Firebird she’d rescued from a junkyard—when she heard him call her name.
She paused, not daring to turn around. If she did, she might run back to him and give him permission to touch her everywhere. How the hell was she going to survive his kiss if he won the bet? While she didn’t want to screw him or his parole over, Trixie had every intention tonight of securing the showroom floor so that there was no way he could possibly break in to plant that claw clip.
Deciding to ignore him, she opened the door to her Firebird and got into the driver’s seat. She slammed the door closed, grateful for the barrier between them. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him standing there, right on the edge of the property line. If he took a single step forward, he’d be breaking his parole.
Damn. She shook her head to clear it. She really needed to win this bet. No man should have this much power over her.
The following day dragged. Cayden helped Mrs. Wynn around the house, even so much as getting on the roof to clear out the gutters. She made him lunch, and they ate together at the kitchen table. Everyone else was at work, so it was just the two of them. He kept feeling like Mrs. Wynn wanted to ask him something, but she was just chitchatting the day away with small talk. She never brought up Trixie, though. Instead, she talked about her former job, the other residents of the house, and even her son, Josh.
As it neared three-thirty, Cayden couldn’t help the wave of jealousy that washed over him. What was Trixie showing Geordi at the shop? What was she wearing? Did she have her hair up like when he’d first met her, or was she wearing it down like she had yesterday? Man, he was dying for the chance to run his fingers through those thick, black curls.
Despite the day’s distractions offered by Mrs. Wynn, Cayden’s mind never strayed far from Trixie Romero. He wanted her. And not in a one-time, quick fuck way either. He wanted her. By his side, in his bed, under him, on top of him, up against a wall, next to him… He wanted her every way and any way he could get her.
This acknowledgement then fueled the doubt he’d been feeling all day. Not about the bet. He had a plan, and he knew exactly how he was going to win it. He would get his kiss.
But did she want his kiss? He was an ex-biker with a record. He was on parole for another four months and four days. Why would she want him? He wasn’t a catch. He couldn’t even hold down a legitimate job without her help. He knew he affected her, knew that she found him attractive, or maybe it was the fact that they both loved cars first and people second that sparked her interest.
But a relationship?
Cayden 2.0 wasn’t looking for a one-night stand. He’d filled his teens and early twenties with those. He was done with them. His cock might not understand that decision, but his head and his heart sure did. Cayden didn’t want just anyone, a random someone. He wanted the one. Maybe not marriage, maybe not kids, but he wanted commitment. A partner.
He’d been out of prison for almost two months. There’d been ample opportunity to get laid, and he’d turned down some interesting offers. The fact that the last time he’d had sex was the day before he’d been arrested was also on the forefront of his mind, and something his dick seemed to need to remind him of every single day.
He’d been convicted of Class 3 auto theft, which was a felony. His sentence was three years, of which he’d served two and a half inside. Prison had not been fun, but he’d managed to make it through unscathed and hadn’t been subjected to any sexual stereotypes. His prison bitch had been his right hand. His cellmate for most of his time inside had been a convicted murderer named Tony. The two of them had gotten along just fine and, for the most part, people left them alone. If they didn’t mess with them, they didn’t mess with Tony or Cayden.
But thirty months inside was still thirty months inside. He’d been lonely, isolated. He’d craved ice cream and to see the stars. He’d spent most of his time taking apart engines in his head or exercising. Tony had shown him some karate moves too.
Sex had been tempting since his release, but the idea of settling down and making something of himself, of making himself worthy of a decent woman was even more so. Cayden didn’t want just sex or a quick lay. He wanted happiness. He wanted to be able to bring a woman home to Gran and tell her that he was happy.
He’d never introduced a woman to Gran before, at least not since high school. But that faceless woman in his prison dreams was no longer featureless. She had raven hair with milk chocolate eyes, tanned skin, and killer legs. She smelled of motor oil and had calluses on her hands with grease under her fingernails. She had a spine of steel and a sassy mouth made for kissing.
He didn’t just want between Trixie’s legs. Sleeping with her would be amazing, and it would happen, but he would never be satisfied with just one time. He’d get her to trust him. He’d get her to understand that he was a man of his word.
Maybe one day Trixie would look at him like a man worthy of her. That was Cayden’s new dream. To be worthy of Trixie.
His perpetual blue balls might explode while achieving this goal, but he had every intention of achieving it all the same.
Geordi and Mr. Wynn came home a little after five. Geordi ran right up to Cayden and told him all about Trixie and how awesome she was. His smile was so wide, Cayden could have counted his teeth. He soaked it all in, every word Geordi had to say about Trixie. Geordi’s excitement lasted the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, to the point where Mrs. Wynn had to make him a cup of warm milk to get him to settle down for bed.
Cayden laid on his own bed, listening to the muffled voices of Mrs. Wynn and Geordi. Four months, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. He wondered what it would feel like to have Trixie pressed up against him, her raven hair in his face, her hips nestled against his. Yeah, he could definitely get used to feeling that every night and every morning for the rest of his life.
Trixie wasn’t sure how it was Friday already. Monday had been busy as always. She wasn’t sure why people insisted on doing their standard oil changes on Mondays. What was the time significance of that? Geordi and Greg’s visit had been nice. She’d shown Geordi around and laughed at his childish antics, but she’d also been very aware of the fact that Geordi was not Cayden. The parole board had sent the inspector on Tuesday, which had taken up most of her day. Joey was the only one who knew that she wasn’t an OSHA inspector. The shop had passed with flying colors, and Trixie once again blessed the day she’d decided to hire Joey. Wednesday and Thursday were a blur. She’d had a lot of work to catch up on and she was tired. She’d done everything she could think of to secure the cars on the showroom floor. True to her word, though, she had written a letter stating that Cayden would be running a security test and had her permission to break into one of her cars. She made sure to put that the security test would take place prior to Friday’s closing time. Then, she mailed out a copy each to Mr. Jones and Greg as well as placed a copy in Cayden’s employment file.
Greg had dropped off Cayden’s employment paperwork on Wednesday, so the man was ready to come to work. But he hadn’t.
Was he backing out of their deal? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She wanted him to lose, not to forfeit. Friday came and went too. At four-thirty, Trixie found herself distracted and anxious in her office, reviewing the week’s service tickets. He had thirty minutes. What was he waiting for?
At quarter to five, a knock sounded on her door. “Come in,” she called without looking up from her laptop.
The moment the door opened and closed, she knew. God-fucking-damn it. That same electric tension filled her office, forcing her eyes closed. She wasn’t sure if her heart was beating like a drum out of disappointment from losing the bet or excitement for the prize he was about to claim. She just knew that cocky smile was on his face.
With a groan, she forced her eyes open and met his mismatched ones. Sure enough, they blazed with triumph. “What the hell did you do and how the hell did you do it?”
He didn’t voice a reply, though. He strutted over, around her desk, and turned her chair to face him. He towered over her, bracing his hands on the arms of her office chair. And then his lips were on hers.
Oh damn, the man could kiss! He swallowed up Trixie’s gasp of shock, coaxing her mouth open even further. Heat and electricity didn’t even begin to describe the euphoria coursing through her. His tongue traced over her bottom lip, and his teeth even took a nibble.
She felt when he went to raise himself up. Her stupid, traitorous arms locked themselves around his neck. Her chair wheels shifted under their combined weight, nearly knocking them over onto the floor. Trixie refused to let go. He tasted so good, like a treat she’d earned for a job well done, and she wanted more.
When her chair started to tip again, Cayden moved his arms from the chair to her hips. He lifted her up, turned, and placed her bottom on her desk. She barely recalled the clatter of the chair hitting the floor. Her legs splayed wide, encasing his hips. She arched her chest against his, rubbing her braless breasts against his shirt. The material rubbing against her sensitive nipples made her moan.
It was her damn radio squawking that broke her concentration. She pulled her lips from his, gasping for air, as she listened to Terrance telling Jeff he was clocking out and then Jeff’s reply to have a good weekend.
Silence filled her office, except for their huffing breaths. Cayden was leaning into her, his forehead resting against the side of her head. She had no idea what to say or do now. A part of her was tempted to say fuck it and rip his pants off. That part was warring with the businesswoman who was yelling at the top of her lungs that he was an employee.
It was her curiosity, though, that won over both the slutty bitch and the business owner inside her.
She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of him against her for just one more second, and then asked, “How did you do it?”
“Piece of cake.” She liked how he was still fighting to catch his breath. He sounded like he’d just run a mile at full speed. His hands trailed lightly up her arms. “As much as I want to take full advantage of your permission to touch you, Mr. Wynn will be here soon to pick me up. Do you want to continue this, or do you want to learn how I won the bet?”
Both, neither. Yes, no. Oh, fuck, she was screwed either way. “Bet,” she finally managed to gasp out. Why did his hands have to feel so good?
She felt his lips against her hair, an intimate gesture she had not been prepared for, and then he stepped back. He righted her chair before lifting her off her desk and back down into it. Trixie was skinny but knew her height added weight to her lean body. Yet he picked her up and manipulated her with ease. Why was that so fucking hot?
Cayden even straightened out the paperwork he’d messed up on her desk when he’d placed her on top of it. Again, a gesture she had not expected.
Then he moved behind her, leaning over her shoulders to point to her laptop. “I assume you have access to the security feeds from here?”
She nodded and moved her hands up to scroll to the program. Was she really about to watch him plant her claw clip in one of her cars? Had any of her employees witnessed it? What did they think had happened?
Maybe she should have seen the proof before allowing him to claim his prize.
She could feel his breath against her hair as she pulled up the showroom camera feed. She blinked, looking closer at the screen. Everything looked normal. All her cars were exactly where she’d left them. She’d even gone as far as to place a small piece of green duct tape on each tire facing her camera so she would know if the car had been moved.
Anger struck her. How dare he kiss her without having won the bet?
“Don’t get your sexy panties in a twist.” She stiffened as he reached for the trackpad. He switched the view from the showroom to the bay. Jeff was the only one still in there this time of day. She could see him going through the tickets to prep for Monday’s workload. “How do you go back in time?”
“I don’t have any DeLoreans in stock.”
His laugh was loud in her ear, but damn did she like the sound of it. She felt him press his lips to the top of her head. He really needed to stop doing that. Those were the type of intimate gestures a lover or a boyfriend made. She should not allow an employee to touch her like that, especially an employee who had yet to prove he’d won their bet.
“How far back do you need to go?” Trixie asked, glancing at the clock. It was five after five now. Greg would be here at five-thirty to pick him up. “And why are we looking at the bay?”
“About twelve minutes before I walked into your office.”
She pulled up the scrollbar and dragged it to the left. The screen blurred to life as she saw people moving at superspeed in reverse.
“Stop.”
Trixie released the scroll and pressed the space bar to play the recording. She leaned forward, watching as her employees were finishing up their workday. About two minutes in, she saw Cayden stride into the bay from the side door. It meant he’d come down the hall into the bay from the showroom. Her brows touched. How had he gotten a code to get in and out either door?
Cayden walked right up to three of her employees, Gary, Terrance, and Will. She could see Jeff off to the side, but his head was deep in a cabinet searching for something. Cayden chatted with her boys for a moment before walking around to an Aston Martin. The car had only been dropped off that morning. She’d been planning on working on it over the weekend. Her motor pool employees might have off Saturdays and Sundays, but she still worked. She got most of her work done on the weekends when she didn’t have a thousand other things to distract her.
She watched as Cayden lifted his hand and Gary—damn it—threw him the keys. What the hell had he said to make that happen? Gary was a seasoned mechanic. He’d worked for her for almost four years. He knew better than to just toss a set of keys to a stranger who’d walked into the bay. But Gary wasn’t the only one at fault. Jeff, Terrance, and Will were all in there too. Why hadn’t any of them stopped him? What the hell was going on?
Then, to her horror and astonishment, Cayden got into the driver’s seat, turned on the damn car, and made a show of looking around the front seats. Right there, on the damn computer screen, he gave her a wickedly cocky smile and wave as he dropped her claw clip on the dash.
After that, he turned the car off, handed Gary back the keys, and then strode out of the bay as if he owned the place. She changed views to see him walk down the hallway, enter the code to the door to the stairs, and walk right up to her office. How the hell did he know that code too—or for that matter, how did he know where her office was?
She slammed her laptop closed. “You cheated,” she accused.
“Did I?” Trixie felt him stand up. He came over to lean his butt against her desk and crossed his arms over his chest. She had to swivel her chair so she could see him. “How do you figure that?”
She glared at him. “First, the deal was that you would break into one of the cars in the showroom. Second, one of my employees handed you the keys. That doesn’t prove you can steal one of my cars.” He raised an eyebrow. “Therefore, you cheated. I want my kiss back.”
He leaned forward, arms still crossed. “Where in our deal did I say I was going to take a car from the showroom?”
She opened her mouth and then closed it. Trixie’s face scrunched as she recalled his exact wording when he’d specified their deal. Fuck! All he’d said was that he’d get into one of her cars. He hadn’t said a car from her showroom. Just one of hers. Technically, she was responsible for the Aston Martin, though she didn’t own it. She’d even admitted that she treated every one of her customer’s cars like they were her own.
“Okay, so you got me there,” she snapped, pissed she hadn’t caught on. What had he said to make her think he’d meant a car from the showroom? Why hadn’t she even considered him taking one from the bay or the parking lot? For that matter, why hadn’t he taken one from the parking lot? It would have been a hell of a lot easier than taking one from the bay. “But you didn’t steal the car. That’s hardly how a thief would do it.”
“Isn’t it?” he retorted. “The best grifts aren’t taken by force, baby. They are prizes that are handed right to you. You expected me to break in, to tamper, to fiddle, and to steal. You did not expect me to walk right up to your employees and con them into handing me the keys.” That cocky grin is back. “And that, sweetheart, is why I won that kiss fair and square.”
Her cheeks flushed. “What did you say to them? How did you get them to hand you the keys? And the damn tape measure!”
He glanced over his shoulder at the clock. They had a little more than five minutes before Greg would be by to pick him up. “I told them I was from your customer’s insurance company. It wasn’t hard to get his or the insurance name because you write them on your handy white board just inside the room. A joke and a compliment to distract and they were putty in my hands. Your men are good and loyal, but they also took a stranger at his word without verifying either with the front desk or you. Your so-called secure locks implant a false sense of security. After all, how could I have gotten back there if I wasn’t invited back? The bay believed the front desk sent me back and the front desk never even saw me enter.”
“How did you get a code?”
“Eight-seven-four-nine.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “That’s my code!”
He nodded smugly. “You entered it to get into the bay the day we met. A four-digit code isn’t very secure, and the fact that yours spells your nickname is even worse. I’m only semi-grateful that it wasn’t your birthday.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You don’t know when my birthday is.”
“Oh?” He pointed to a picture of her and her abuelo in Times Square, New York City. It was her twenty-first birthday. He’d taken her to see the city she’d always dreamed of going to see, along with center seat tickets to see Wicked on Broadway. To her horror, her birthdate was plastered on the big screen behind her. To make matters worse, she was wearing a birthday tiara.
She loved that picture. Not only was it special because it had been her twenty-first, but it had also been her last with her abuelo. He’d passed away eleven months later.
She dropped her head into her hands. “Damn it! I thought I was so careful! I even hired a security consultant years ago to install everything!”
Trixie felt his hands grip hers. He waited for a second before he gently pulled her hands away from her face. She hated feeling like a failure. He pulled her to her feet and used her hands to drag her to him. Cayden wrapped her arms around his waist, leaving them there, before putting his own around hers. She felt his lips against her neck at the base of her ear. Yeah, he definitely had an ear fetish.
“Don’t feel bad, baby. Your security is good. I’m just better.”
She felt herself snort, pressing her face into his chest. “I was so sure I was going to win the bet.”
She was hoping to get a laugh out of him, but instead she felt him stiffen beneath her. “Trix, I need you to look at me.”
She kept her arms around him as she straightened. There was definite concern in his mismatched eyes.
“What I did here was to prove a point. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to kiss you, and I used this as an excuse to ensure it. I have every intention of kissing you again and again.” His eyes deepened at his promise, and she felt herself flush. She wasn’t sure which she liked better, the blue or the green. “But I also have no intention of going where I’m not wanted.” Why did she suspect there was a dual meaning behind those words? “If you don’t want me to work here, if you feel like you were manipulated into giving me this job, I’ll leave. Mr. Wynn will be here any second, so I need an answer.”
She bit her lower lip. Did she want him here? He’d won the bet, but he was giving her an out. He was definitely a distraction she didn’t need. Could she keep her hands off of him if he was working here? Did she want him working elsewhere?
All week she’d been warring with herself. Her attraction to him aside, he was someone she shouldn’t trust. While he might not be the stereotypical biker like she saw on Sons of Anarchy, that didn’t change the fact that he was a biker. Or he had been. He was an ex-con, a car thief. He was on parole.
And yet… Trixie didn’t know if she trusted her judgement of people’s characters. Her lack of romantic history would suggest that she didn’t have enough experience to make such a call, given her intense feelings for this man. He was suave, charming, arrogant, and so fucking sexy that she had a feeling she was going to need multiple panty changes a day if he came to work here.
The Wynns trusted him, though. They wouldn’t have pushed for Cayden to work here if they didn’t. He’d been living with them for two-ish months. That had to count for something.
Fuck it. He’d proven that her security wasn’t as good as she thought it was. He’d proven that her babies weren’t safe. Beyond wanting him, she needed him.
“You can stay,” she said finally, the minute hand on the clock snapping to five-thirty. “Be here Monday morning at seven-thirty. You and I need to go over some things before the staff meeting at eight.”
His smile wasn’t cocky this time, but it was brilliant. She’d made him happy, and damn, if she didn’t want to do that again.
He lowered his mouth to hers, giving her a quick peck of his lips. Then he wiggled himself out from between her and the desk, aiming for the door.
“And, Mr. Russo?” He stopped and turned, the annoyance at her use of his surname evident. She worked to keep her smile under control. “That was not me giving you permission to touch me in the future.”
He strode right up to her desk, placed his left on it and reached his right across to cup her cheek. Her head turned of its own accord, cradling into his touch. When she opened her eyes, she saw his wicked gleam back. Without a word, he turned and walked out of her office.
God-fucking-damn it. He didn’t even have to say anything to get the last word in.
