Price of a Kiss (Forbidden Men 1)

Come on, Reese, think. If you were the computer of a slutty middl

e-age cougar who liked to blackmail her neighbor boy into having sex with her, where would you hide out all day?

My first guess would be the bedroom—obviously—but she was probably there right now, dolling herself up. For Mason.

I gagged at the thought.

He was so never going anywhere near that again.

Motivated by the thought, I stepped forward and glanced cautiously through the doorway of the back laundry room and into a dimly lit, state-of-the-art kitchen. I almost passed out when I saw a closed laptop sitting on her bar.

No freaking way. I couldn’t possibly be that lucky.

Oh, well. I wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

I darted into the kitchen and seated my rump onto a barstool in front of her Dell. After cracking my knuckles and rolling my shoulders as if to pop my neck, I held my breath and reached for the lid.

No alarms sounded. No metal bars crashed down around me. No hidden trap in the floor opened up and dropped me into her dungeon below.

I was in the witch’s computer. And the idiot witch hadn’t even set a password. Score.

I stared sightlessly at her home screen a good minute, listening and practically waiting for footsteps, certain Mrs. Garrison would arrive now and murder me. But the first floor of the house remained silent.

Finally, blowing out a breath, I focused on step three of Operation Save Mason.

Clicking on the email icon, I rolled my eyes when I was sent straight to her inbox. Jesus, did the woman password protect nothing? You’d think she’d be a little more paranoid since she was so shady herself.

I shrugged again. Her loss. My gain.

Composing a new letter¸ I typed Jeremy’s address, , into the To box.

In the subject line, I wrote: Looking for Teresa Nolan?

And in the body of the message I typed in my new name and mailing address. I was just entering the town and state when I heard high heels on the stairs.

My veins jolted with a surge of adrenaline.

But really. This was so awesome. I couldn’t have scheduled her arrival any better than if I’d sent her an itinerary.

Enter one skanky landlady, stage left.

I was just finishing up the zip code when she strolled into the kitchen, carrying an empty wine glass and wearing a slinky green and black teddy.

Which Mason would never see her wearing.

She skidded to a halt when she spotted me, her stilettoes making her stumble. It was kind of comical, so I grinned as I waved at her in the most affable manner ever. “Hey. Cute nighty. Victoria’s Secret, am I right?”

Then I laughed as I pointedly pushed the send button right in front of her.

“What the hell are you doing?” She stormed forward, jerking her laptop out of my hands and sliding it around to face her so she could see what I’d done.

“Oh, I just thought I’d come over to let you know Mason wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.” With a shrug and guilty roll of my eyes, I confessed, “I kind of intercepted the text you sent him this morning.” Wrinkling my nose, I sent her an apologetic cringe. “Sorry, but he never saw it.”

“What…” Mrs. Garrison was too busy staring at her screen in confusion to listen to me. “What did you do on my computer?”

“I emailed Jeremy. Told him where I was and what name I was going under. I mean, wasn’t that what you kept threating to do if Mason didn’t keep servicing you?” This time I nailed a shocked expression like a pro. “My God, you weren’t bullshitting him, were you?”

Mrs. Garrison clicked into her send history, and her mouth fell open as she read the message I’d just sent. “What…why…” She shook her head, at a total loss for words.