Reese

“You catch anything tasty today, or are you waiting for your favorite aunt to feed you?” I bend down and stroke his back before heading to the small boathouse, which does indeed hold a boat. But it’s also where Lollie has three industrial-sized freezers and a fridge filled with fish and every crustacean known to man.

He follows along beside me until I get to the door, then he slips into the water and waits on the other side as I grab the huge bucket from the fridge.

I walk down to the open area of the boathouse and kneel near the water’s edge, watching Charlie circle around for a minute before I pour the bucket into the water.

I back away, leaving him to it. I’m not crazy enough to get between a crocodile and his food.

When I’m back in the boathouse, I fill the bucket with fish from the freezer and pop it back in the fridge to thaw, then I head back up to the house.

I lock up and head to the bedroom, where I face-plant onto the bed and try to break the day into pieces so I can deal with everything easier.

Walking back into the gym and slipping into a role that won’t have people questioning my return was easier than I thought it would be. However, there seems to be something wrong with all the penis-wearing people that go there.

I’m comfortable enough in my own skin to recognize I’m pretty in a cheerleader kind of way, which is ridiculous considering I was never a cheerleader. The closest I got to them was being on the receiving end of their sharp tongues. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that I have that whole blonde hair, blue-eyed thing going on. My body is tight and toned, but it’s not from backflips or pompom tossing. It’s from necessity. You don’t escape the bad guys if you keel over when you’re running for your life.

None of it should matter because there are far prettier women out there than me. Women who are feminine and kind and smiley or some shit. I’m cranky and opinionated, and I throw a punch that will knock most men out. I can be a real cockblocker, but it seems Vega, Graves, and Blink are immune to it.

Maybe it’s the novelty. There are still not many women on the scene, even if it’s a thousand times better than it used to be.

I understand having stuff in common and having things to talk about outside the bedroom. But dating someone, especially an alpha male, can throw a big wrench in the works when they can’t bear for you to fight in case you get hurt.

I growl into my pillow, remembering hearing that from an ex many moons ago. He worked hard to get me. But once I said yes and gave in, he did everything he could to change me from the woman he chased to the woman he wanted to marry. The problem is, I like who I am. Bumps, bruises, and broken bones are a part of my DNA. It’s all I’ve ever known, and flipping it on its head—using the violence that always oppressed me to elevate me—made me feel invincible. I would never give that up to make someone else happy. Not when I fought so damn hard to become someone I’m proud of.

I roll over and stare at the ceiling. As tired as I am, sleep evades me because my brain refuses to switch off.

I’m usually pretty meh about sex, finding it easy to switch my desire on and off, thanks to my line of work. But Blink, Vega, and Graves have my circuits fried. What makes them special? I roll again, then pause when a flash of Law’s pretty green eyes and dimpled grin makes me sigh.

Good freaking God. I’ve turned into the Pied Piper of penises. Enticing men that I’ll likely lead to their death.

I toss and turn for another hour before my body finally gives in, and I fall into a restless sleep.

* * *

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” Sugar hugs me as if she hasn’t seen me in a year when I walk into her office.

I hug her back awkwardly with a frown. Sugar is not usually a hugger. Did she miss me that much?

She pulls back and looks up at me, her gorgeous face looking pale and tired.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Sugar, seriously, you know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

She kicks off her heels before sitting on her sofa and tucking her feet up beneath her.

“I’m fine. Just tired. I think I might be due for a Hawaiian getaway myself. I’d trade the surfing for sexy cabana boys feeding me grapes, though.”

“Of course, you would.” I snort and sit beside her.

“You remember to feed Charlie?”

“Yeah. I crashed there last night before going home to box up some stuff, which is what brings me here. I need a couple of favors.”

“What do you need?”

“I’m gonna drive the truck down today with my bike and some boxes in the back, but I won’t be able to take everything. Once I find out where I’m going to be staying, can you ship the rest to me? It’s all in the garage.”