Enemy's Secret

"Well, thanks for your help," I say.

By the looks of it, we're nearly through the list. Which means I better have another excuse ready right about... now.

We make it through the checkout line with just some easy chitchat, though. Maybe this is enough for Landon. Maybe after this we'll go our separate ways and... I don't know. I'll have a nice night with Johnny.

That's not what you want, a nagging voice in my head butts in.

Shut up, I tell it.

As I go to pay, I joke to Landon, "No card war this time?"

He gets out his wallet. "Shit - if you want me to - "

"Stop." I tap my card. "I'm a big girl. I can buy my own groceries."

"Of course," he says.

Cute, how he actually looks sad he couldn't buy my groceries for me.

Once we're outside and I have my grocery bags on my arms, I smile at Landon. "Well, thanks."

There's a look in his eyes, one that I know from experience is dangerous. "Here's an idea," he says.

"I don't know," I say.

A frown. "I haven't said anything."

"Sorry."

He gestures to the store next door, Victoria's Secret. "It's Harley's - Greyson's wife's - birthday this weekend. Weird, but apparently, all she wants are PJs, so if you could help..."

"And you want my help because?"

"You're female."

We crack up. I roll my eyes. "Fine. But let me put this in my car first."

Inside the store, it's actually fun, going through the PJ sets: the ugly plaid ones and the cute plaid ones, the silly animal ones, the holy-hell sexy ones, until we come to ones that are way cute - pink penguins - without being wildly inappropriate - no lacey thong included.

"What is it?" Landon asks as we walk out of there.

I touch my face gingerly, realizing I've been grinning like mad.

"Nothing," I say.

"Right."

Although I'm full of shit and we both know it. I just don't want to say it, tell the truth:

That it felt like the good old days, when things between Landon and I were easy and uncomplicated and fun. When even standing in insanely long lines in the pouring rain was enjoyable - because he was there.

"That was fun," I admit, as he drops the stuff off in his car.

"Let me make it up to you," he says.

"You already did. Fair is fair. You went grocery shopping with me. I went girl PJ shopping with you."

"Kyra," he says softly.

"Can't we just leave it like this?" I ask, knowing that that's the last thing I want. That, even in a plain white tee and blue jeans, Landon looks fucking gorgeous. That all he has to do is ask me one more time and I'll cave. "A nice evening together?"

"I know a place," Landon says. "Let me take you there?"

A bit more of my self-control falls away with the look in his eyes. "Where?"

"The Baccarat Hotel."

"No."

"Restaurant first - see if we enjoy ourselves. Then, if we do, go from there."

Go from there... to the bedroom, the bed, the whole night... no.

I have to say it. I have to tell those hopeful eyes 'no', the lips already pouted for a kiss. I have to say it. Mean it.

"Landon," I say.

"Kyra," he says.

When I open my mouth, it's anyone's guess what's going to come out.

Chapter 11

Landon

"Fine," she says. "Just the restaurant, though."

I could kiss her now. But I know if I did I wouldn't be able to stop.

I've heard all I need to get driving anyway.

As I cruise down the road, I'm probably smiling like an idiot.

I, Landon Storm, am the luckiest fucking man in the world.

Beside me in the car, dressed in a slightly tight black button-up crop t-shirt and blue jeans, as hot as any supermodel in a designer dress that I've ever taken out - hotter even - is Kyra.

Her dark hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, although she missed a strand. I want to tuck it in. I want to pepper the stripe of skin on her abdomen bared by her shirt with kisses.

Kyra, Kyra, Kyra.

I want to take her, right here, right now.

But first, dinner.

"I don't have anything to wear," Kyra blurts out as the skyscraper looms into view.

"Got you a little something," I say casually.

"Seriously, Landon?"

"Just stumbled on it the other day... Looked like your size."

Fuck. Why is it that those brown eyes are able to see right through me?

"What about you?" she asks.

"We can both change in the bathroom."

"I thought this was spontaneous, but... you planned this."

"It was just an idea. If the grocery shopping went well."

She holds my gaze, finally sighs. "Alright. But if it doesn't fit, I'm not wearing it."

"It'll fit, alright."

"Oh really? You're so sure, are you?"

I shrug. I'm not about to admit that I've just about memorized the shape of her.

When we hand over the car to the valet, I get out the bags of clothes, then we head into the bathrooms to change. I'm out of my old clothes and into my suit quickly enough, although I don't hurry out.