Breaking Even (Sterling Shore 5)

“Sorry. I thought it was from—Brin. You’re here,” I say in surprise as my tiger walks in, her eyes narrowed on me.

Are we about to fight over Jessica? I really hope not. We agreed to be exclusive but noncommittal. If that makes any sense. It does in my head, so I’m going with it.

She eyes the trashcan for a moment, but then her pretty blues come back up to meet my gaze.

“Give me the password, Rye,” she growls, and my grin slowly grows.

“Getting tired of maracas and words you don’t understand?” I tease, proud of the fact I rigged her stereo. “Should have taken Spanish class.”

“Now,” she demands, looking hot as hell with that fiery temper of hers taking root.

“Nope.” I sigh long and loud, acting so weary, as though this is exhausting, and Jessica slowly creeps out.

I start to apologize about the cake, but I decide against it. That will give Brin doubts, and I don’t want that.

“Fine. Then that means I owe you,” she says threateningly.

Wren grins as he watches with intrigue, and I sit back while crossing my arms over my chest.

“Or you could consider us even, tiger.”

She rolls her eyes as though that’s preposterous. “Not even, Mr. Ass. Now I need to go google my next plan of attack.”

Google? “That’s cheating,” I say with an accusatory tone.

Only I’m allowed to cheat.

“It’s not cheating; it’s plotting. And I have plenty of time to plot. When do you get off?”

Too easy. I shouldn’t. But I can’t resist watching her cheeks flame in front of Wren. “Usually right after you do—the second time.”

I’m rewarded when her eyes pop open to be much wider. Wren coughs in surprise, and then Brin blushes fiercely while glaring at me.

Worth it.

“Wow,” Wren says through a laugh, shaking his head while Brin looks for... something. Probably something to throw at me.

“Not what I meant,” she mumbles, avoiding looking in Wren’s direction.

“I’ll leave right now if you want me to get off,” I taunt, only adding to her mortification as Wren laughs loudly.

She bites back a grin while coming toward me, and I swivel my chair over to pull her onto my lap. She doesn’t fight me, even though she probably has something sick and twisted planned for me later.

I really like this thing between us.

“You’re an ass.”

“You’re here to see me, so that must mean you like asses,” I point out, and she grins.

“You’re seriously not giving me the password?”

“Will you call us even if I do?” I ask, leaning over to press a sweet, soft, and very quick kiss to her lips.

“Sure,” she lies.

“Then no. I have work to do, so I need you to go and stop distracting me so I don’t have to stay later than necessary.”

“Fine. I’ll go. If you tell me why you have an entire cake in your trashcan.”