She ran her gaze over him, like she had at the bar, and once she was done, she turned her eyes to his reflection in the window.
He was watching her. She didn’t care that he knew she was checking him out, just like she hadn’t cared at Mill Creek Bar & Grill.
Men did it to women all the time and didn’t think twice about how it made a woman feel. Turnabout was fair play.
“We got the same goal,” he said, turning and planting his hands on his hips. “We both want that motherfucker caught.”
Yes, she wanted that motherfucker caught. Though, she’d prefer dead. Unfortunately, Deacon probably needed him alive to collect his fee.
She slipped off her heels and moved barefoot across her plush carpet toward where he stood, his long legs planted apart. “We have the same goals.”
“Just need to trust me.”
Just that easy. “I don’t know you, Nick.”
“Don’t know you, either,” he countered.
“You’re not the one with the sister at risk,” she reminded him.
He tipped his head. She found it fascinating that a man not only knew how to French braid hair, but could do his own. She could barely do her sister’s when they were growing up.
“True. Wanna protect your blood. I get that.”
She stopped only a few feet in front of him. “Do you have family?”
“Yeah.”
She hated to admit it, but she found him fascinating. What he did for a living. How he looked. Even how he talked. His English was sloppy, but he didn’t appear to be unintelligent.
Though, she really didn’t know him. If she had to guess, he just didn’t give a damn about what people thought of him. Even so, he probably had no problems convincing a woman to spend a night with him.
She also figured it would be one night only. He probably didn’t get rejected often. And when he did, he most likely had no problem moving on to someone else.
“You’d do whatever you have to do to protect them, right?”
“Goes without sayin’.”
Even if he was a player and not serious about women, her gut was telling her he was serious about his job. That alone could be to her and Reilly’s benefit. “Let’s catch the bastard.”
Nick aka Deacon Edwards, owner of Justice Bail Bonds out of Manning Grove, smiled.
It was a hell of a smile, too. One that made her bare toes curl into her plush carpet and her nipples pebble just the slightest bit.
“What’s the plan?” she asked. Since he had come to Mansfield, he had to have one already, right?
“Know this is gonna be hard for you, but you’re gonna have to listen to what I say.”
Yes, that was going to be difficult. “I’ll do my best.”
He shook his head. “No. Not your best. To keep you and your sister safe you need to fuckin’ listen.”
“I might have some opinions.”
“No shit. Sure you’re gonna have lots of fuckin’ opinions. Try keepin’ them to yourself.”
“No promises.”
He cocked a brow at her. “Want your sister safe?”
“Yes.” She shouldn’t have to answer that, but he was making a point, so she let him.
“Want that fucker caught?”
“Dead, actually, but caught would be my second choice.”
“Then you need to listen.”
“Sorry, but I can’t just listen to a man and not have a say in things. If I have something to contribute, I’m not keeping it to myself. Now, let’s hear this plan of yours.”
He scraped a hand down his beard and her eyes followed it. She wasn’t much into facial hair but his fit him. The piercings not so much. Most bad boy personas didn’t have their nipples and nose pierced. She found that curious, but not enough to ask him why he had them done.
He might mistakenly think she was interested.
Right now, she needed to hear a solid plan. Her sister’s safety was much more important than Reese’s likes and dislikes when it came to men. So, she waited.
“Need to get your sister outta here. Somewhere safe. Somewhere not linked with you or any of your family.”
“It’s just us. Some distant cousins live in Florida.”
“I probably got a place she can go. Where he’d never find her.”
“Where?”
He shook his head. “Gotta work out those details first. Once she’s there, I can set up here.”
“In my house.”
“Well, I can’t sit outside your fuckin’ house unless I sit in a goddamn tree stand. And I’m not some special ops guy on a covert mission, I’m just a fuckin’ bounty hunter. I see my target, nab my target and deliver the asshole. Then collect my payment. You won’t see me out in the woods with camo and war toys. You want that, you pay for it yourself.”
He was kind of cute when he was annoyed. “Okay. We get my sister out and you in. What else?”
“You go, too.”
“What?” She was not leaving a stranger alone in her house. “I’m not leaving. If I did, I couldn’t go far, anyway. I have my practice—”