Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men 1)

I so looked down. And yep, he was still sexy from head to toe.

He cleared his throat in a disgusted, do-you-mind kind of way.

Busted. I jerked my gaze back up.

“Isn’t my mom home yet?” he asked when he finally had my attention on his face.

When he made it sound as if it were my fault that she wasn’t, I huffed out an impatient breath. “Apparently not.”

But really, what a tragedy. A guy with his level of hotness turning out to be a rude jerk was like stumbling across a steaming hot strip of perfectly fried bacon only to turn it over and realize it had mold growing on it. Not cool.

“I fell asleep on the couch after putting Sarah to bed and no one woke me. Wouldn’t she have woken me if she’d come home?”

“She must be working overtime for someone, then.” He closed his eyes and silently mouthed something, but I’d never been good at reading lips, so I had no clue what he said. Finally, he sighed as if forfeiting a mental battle he was having with himself and ran a hand through his thick, wet, dark hair. “Well, I didn’t know you were here, okay,” he said, not for the first time, but at least he sounded defensive instead of offended this time.

It was minimal progress if you ask me. Now…if I’d had control over his lines, I would’ve had him apologizing profusely for snapping at me by now.

“And I didn’t know you were here either,” I smarted back. “You scared the crap out of me. When I woke up and heard something back here, I thought a burglar had broken in.”

The incredulous look he sent me told me he wasn’t buying it. “You thought someone broke in…to use the shower?”

“I didn’t hear the water running. Jeez.” And now I sounded just as defensive as he did. But really. “I only heard doors, or drawers, or something opening and shutting. I didn’t know what was going on.”

He glanced at the doll in my hand that I still held as a weapon. “Well, swell. I suppose I should feel so much better now, knowing Sarah is safe in your hands. If someone breaks in, you can just wield your doll there and play tea party with them to death.”

Oh, no, he didn’t.

Instead of bringing up Mr. Taser and Mace Man hanging out in my purse, I scowled. “Hey! I’ll have you know the plastic head on this doll is pretty hard. Trust me. Your sister caught me in the noggin with it earlier.” I sank my fingers into my hair and immediately found the tender goose egg she’d left behind. With a wince, I added, “You just wait. After they finish with all the gun bans, they’ll be outlawing these suckers next.”

I waved the doll for emphasis. Its limp body lobbed back and forth in a pathetic attempt at intimidation.

Mason didn’t even crack a smile at my joke. Watching me rub the side of my head, he blinked, looking horrified. “She hit you?”

“Oh, not on purpose, no. It’s nothing,” I dropped my hand from my hair. “No big whoop. We were having a good time. She was excited. Arms started flailing a little too wildly.” I mean, how could they not when I’d been wailing, ‘Give me back my golden arm?’ “But it’s all good. Don’t worry about it.”

He studied me a moment longer. I couldn’t read one discernible thought from his guarded expression. Then he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and turned his attention away from me. “I guess I should pay you. My mom said eight dollars an hour, right?”

He continued to hold the towel in place as he bent to pick up a pair of rumpled, discarded Khakis off the floor. But as he shifted, the terrycloth stretched down in the back, and I swear I saw a peek of crack.

Oh, how I could become addicted to crack, especially when those two taut, tanned globes hugging that blessed crevice molded so perfectly to the back of his towel. They were like twin mounds of ecstasy.

Not noticing me gobbling up his rear end, he dug a hand into the pocket of his pants until he came up with a thick wad of cash. I lurched a step back, gaping at the bills he pulled free. Dear God, I sooo did not want to know where he’d gotten that money.

Whether it was true or not, Eva’s rumor about him being a gigolo had me rattled.

“Umm…” I panicked. “D-don’t worry about it. I’ll just square it up with Dawn later.”

He tilted his head as he eyed me, dissecting me to bits with his penetrating gaze. “Trust me.” He waved the cash in his hand. “You’re going to get paid from these exact bills right here. Does it really matter whether I give them to you now or if I pass them along to my mother, who probably won’t remember to give them to you until next week…if not later?”

I stalled, still not wanting to touch his allegedly dirty money. But I really had earned that cash tonight. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was nominated into the babysitter hall of fame after the way I’d pampered Sarah—excluding the first few minutes of the evening, of course.

Still, it was kind of sad to realize he was taking on this kind of responsibility for his sibling. My older sister had certainly never worried about paying my babysitters before. I wondered what kind of weight had been thrust onto Mason Lowe’s shoulders so early in his life.

His eyes narrowed with defiance, daring me to reject his offer as he peeled back two twenties and handed them to me.

“Well…when you put it that way....” I tried to sound all nonchalant, but I knew he could tell how not-casual I felt about taking his money.

A little sick to my stomach, I felt this irrepressible need to turn on my heels and escape. But slowly, I reached out and slipped the bills from his long fingers, making sure not to touch his heated skin in the process. “Thanks.”