Page 43 of Control Freak

Right. I’d told Emory, but he obviously hadn’t passed the memo along to everyone else. Bailey was gazing at me with a mix of horror and awe.

I chuckled uncomfortably. “Third grade. Is that so hard to believe?”

“No, you’re just so…” He trailed off, averting his gaze.

“Right, well, I don’t flirt with my third graders,” I said. “That tends to be frowned upon.”

He snickered. “Yeah, I bet.”

I nudged his shoulder. “I’m not really flirting with you either. I just tease you because you’re so serious all the time.”

“You’ve known me for like four days.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No…” He pulled a face. “You’re really into Holden, huh?”

“We’re friends,” I said carefully.

“You flirt a lot for friends, and don’t even pretend the flirting with him isn’t real.”

“Friends with benefits, then.”

“But you know he can never fuck you,” he said bluntly.

I raised my eyebrows. “I didn’t know fucking was required to care about someone.”

“No, it’s not. Just making sureyouknow that.”

I bit down on a smile. Bailey was protecting his big brother, and it was freaking adorable, but he probably wouldn’t appreciate me pointing that out. I nodded solemnly. “I know, and I won’t ever hurt your brother if I can help it. He’s a great guy.”

“Yeah, he is,” Bailey said.

The junkyard loomed ahead, two big gates securing it and fencing topped with barbed wire all around the top. Geez. This Flynn guy probably felt as if he’d never left prison, all locked up in there.

Bailey hit a button to the right of the gate, and a loud buzz sounded. I stomped my numb feet, trying to generate some warmth, while we waited. Only a minute went by, but it wasa minute too long on this freezing February day. Why had I wanted to come out here again?

Ah, bonding with the baby brother. Mission accomplished. I could tuck tail and run back to the cozy warmth of the house.

There was a rush of barking, followed by a deep voice calling, “Coming!”

The gate opened, and a veritable giant stood there, three dogs dancing around his ankles. The man reminded me a little of Brick, in the sense that he was big and rough around the edges.

Even though I was eager to return to the indoors, I should probably stay to make sure Bailey was okay with this guy. I wasn’t one to judge a book by its cover, but he’d gone to prison forsomething.

A German shepherd rushed forward, pushing through the opening in the gate, and jumped up against Bailey’s legs for attention. A rottweiler sat at Flynn’s side, eyes on us, serene but watchful, while a border collie ran circles around him. A Chihuahua snarled viciously, warning us off from a six-foot distance.

Flynn turned his head. “Hush, Taz! These are friends.”

Taz responded with one last tiny growl before he turned and trotted away.

“Sorry.” Flynn’s gaze swept over us both. “What’s up, Bailey? Do you guys need something at the shop?”

“Nah.” Bailey withdrew the sandwiches. “We brought you some lunch.”

“Oh.” He looked surprised someone had thought of him. “Thanks.”

He took the sandwiches from Bailey and pulled open the bag to take one out.