Page 43 of Property of Tacoma

Panda climbs up my leg and settles on my hip, his familiar weight comforting.

Standing here under the stars, I feel a strange reluctance to leave.

Which is ridiculous.

I’ve known these people for a day.

I should be eager to get back on the road, back to my life.

The thought of returning to my empty RV, driving back to Jacksonville, and then doing…what? Wait for the next job?

The next body to clean up?

The next problem to solve?

It all suddenly feels hollow.

I sigh, turning back toward the clubhouse.

I need to say my goodbyes and hit the road. The longer I stay, the harder it will be to leave.

As I approach the entrance, Tacoma steps out, backlit by the lights from inside.

Even with only a shadow, he’s impossibly handsome.

“You leaving?” he asks, his deep voice sending a shiver down my spine.

“Yeah,” I point over my shoulder. “I should get going. It’s a long drive back to Jacksonville.” The words sound weak, even to my own ears.

He takes a step closer, and I can smell the scent of Irish Spring, leather, and something uniquely him. “Or you could stay.”

My heart skips a beat. “I can’t.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?” He’s closer now, close enough that I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.

“Both,” I whisper, then tell him the same thing I told his baby girl. “My brother’s expecting me back.”

His hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing across my skin. “Stay, Foxy.”

Everything inside me is screaming to run—to get back in my RV and put miles between me and this man who’s making me feel things I promised myself I wouldn’t feel again.

Not after Zane.

Not after being betrayed.

But there’s something about Tacoma that breaks through all my defenses.

Something in those ocean-blue eyes that calls to me.

Before I can respond, he dips his head and captures my lips with his.

The kiss is deep, possessive, claiming.

My knees weaken, and my heart races as his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me against his solid chest.

Panda chatters indignantly, scurrying up onto my shoulder to avoid being crushed between us.

I should push him away.