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“I'd say you did.”

I shake my head and swing my legs back and forth, kicking my heels against the thick plastic crates. “Not at first. When I first came home from law school, I did end up right back in the same trailer park, still broke, and even worse, in serious debt. I could've taken a job in Dallas, but I wanted to be close to Taeler. I’d already missed so much of her life, and I didn't want to miss any more.”

“What happened?” he asks, taking a step closer. My shoulder brushes against his arm. The heat radiating off him begs me to inch closer. Of course I forgot my jacket upstairs. A strong, crisp fall breeze rips through the alley, racking my shoulders with a deep chill. Sealing the lit cigarette between his lips, Trey shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it across my shoulders.

“Thanks.” I tug the two sides together making a makeshift cocoon with his jacket. I inhale deep, relishing in the faint scent of him. “What do you mean, what happened?”

“From being back in that small town with a law degree to running for vice president with dipshit Birmingham.”

“Ah, that.”Tell the truth or the story we spun for the campaign. I can trust him; we are best friends, after all.“The short version is I ruined his plans for world domination. I'm in over my head though and not really sure of my next move.”

I glance up, fully expecting him to have more questions about my relationship with Kyle, but find him frowning at something down the alley.

“Ruined his plan?” I smile when his warm hand slides into mine. With a sharp tug, he yanks me from the stack of crates, causing them to tumble backward. “I need the full version not the short. But first….” Only after lighting up and taking a deep inhale does he motion for me to start. “Now I'm ready.”

* * *

“So that's where we are,” I say before taking another large bite from the juiciest double cheeseburger I've ever had. Do I feel bad taking Tank's cheeseburger and making him eat the tiny salad he ordered me? Not one bit. Rule number one, like he and I already covered, if you don't know, ask. If he would've, then he wouldn't be frowning over a plate of rabbit food right now.

Outside, I covered the basics on how Kyle approached me to be his wife before Trey cut me off, saying it would be best to head back upstairs to eat and let T hear everything too. Now they'rebothcaught up on everything from the cover story to Kyle’s harassment and Shawn's less-than-subtle threats.

“So, you're not with Birmingham?” Trey asks, disbelief in his tone. He hasn't stopped pacing since we got back up to the room. There’s an ease in the way he moves, one fluid motion. Bet he'd be good in bed, fast and to the point. He doesn’t come off as the cuddling type—another check in the win column for Trouble.

My eyes drop low, sliding down his body, pausing on his crotch.

“Randi.”

I jump, somehow holding back a squeak of surprise. My gaze falls to the carpet in guilt. There’s a slim chance he didn't notice me focused on his package. Peering through my dark lashes, I catch Trey's signature sexy smirk and divert my gaze anywhere other than him.

Shit. Busted.

I clear my throat and raise the burger, bringing it close to my lips. “What was the question again?”

“Are you fucking him?”

“Wow, so blunt. And no. Ew. Not that he hasn’t tried, the depraved prick.” T and Trey exchange a look. “What?” I ask before sinking my teeth into the cheeseburger.

I moan as I chew. Delicious.

“Birmingham said something different,” T says, stroking his bald head. “Last night when he came by your condo.”

I sort through all the possible reasons he'd do that while I finish chewing the large bite. “He was peeing on me.”

“The fuck?” Trey says with a disgusted flinch.

“Not like that. Gross! What kind of shit are you into if that's where your mind goes, hmm?” I waggle a finger in Trey's direction and tsk. “Dirty mind. No, I mean he was marking his territory. But why? Why would Kyle want to keep you guys away from me?”

Trey clears his throat and pauses his pacing. Back against the far wall, he stuffs his large hands into the pockets of his suit. Two undone buttons of the crisp dress shirt pull with the movement, exposing a hint of chest. Why must he look like a mischievous male model? What stupid god did I piss off in life for them to dangle this untouchable hottie in my face?

It's mean. Wonder if there's a Secret Service suggestion box where I can file a 'please don't hire hotties' request so I’m not tempted on a second by second basis by a man I can’t have. I should look into that.

“You with us, Randi?” T's deep voice pulls me out of my random thoughts.

“Yes. Of course I am. Well, maybe… actually, that's a hard no.” I shrug and take another bite. I wink at T's glare as I chew. “It's really good. Thanks.”

“You and my wife, taking my good food and replacing it with stuff fit for animals.”

“I said,” Trey interrupts, “before you got lost in your head—”