Stealing His Heart (Shillings Agency 2)

“One,” he corrected.

She took another sip, ignoring him. “Can we go now? It’s the last day the carnival is in town.”

“You’re like a child who won’t give up.” He picked up his own coffee. A surge of irritation at her behavior hit him, but he fought it back. “What is it going to take to get you to concentrate?”

“Easy. A carnival trip.”

He dropped his head against the back of the couch, amusement at her steadfastness warring with his irritation at her insistence that they go to the carnival. “Jesus, Tara.”

She laughed and set her mug down. “What? It’s true.”

He slammed the notebook shut. “If I take you to the carnival will you actually work tonight? If we don’t get this finished—”

“I go to jail. Yeah, yeah. I know. I heard you the first million times. And, yes. I will.” She held one hand up and placed the other on her heart. “I solemnly swear that as soon as we get home, I’ll try to remember what I did. And tomorrow, I’ll wake up early and be at your beck and call all day long. Happy?”

“Yeah.” He had a tic in his cheek. That’s what she did to him. “Fucking thrilled.”

She arched a brow. “You curse a lot more than you used to.”

“Yeah.” He stood carefully, making sure not to put too much pressure on his left leg. “Is it open yet?”

Her gaze dipped down, then back up. For a second, he thought she would make a comment about his injured leg. But she gave him a smile. “Are you kidding me? The daytime is the best time to go because it’s not as full. And you don’t have to fight through all the annoying teenagers.”

He turned away. “We used to be them, you know.”

“Used to be. But now we’re the annoying old people going to the carnival, and want nothing to do with the old us.”

He grabbed his mug, and hers. “Let me clean up the mess and then we’ll go.”

“Wait.” She stood and took it back. “I’m not done with my coffee yet.”

“It’s cold.”

She took another sip. “No, it’s not. It’s drinkable.”

He stared at her, unable to understand this woman’s train of thought. Reaching out, he touched the porcelain, his fingers brushing hers. It was lukewarm at best. “No. It’s cold.”

She laughed breathlessly; her cheeks flushed pink. “Is everything black and white for you?”

Yeah. He wouldn’t touch her because she wasn’t his, and he wasn’t good enough for her. On top of that, they were only together for a short time to do some mutual work. Black and white. No gray. He cocked a brow at her. “Do I really need to answer that?”

“Nope.” She laughed and checked out his living room. “You know, this room would be a lot more inviting if I—”

He clamped his jaw tight. “Oh, hell no. Don’t think it. Don’t look at my living room like that.”

She turned to him with a furrowed brow. “Like what?”

“Like you want to feng wui it.”

She burst into laughter. “It’s feng shui.”

“Whatever.” He headed for the kitchen. “Keep your chakra off my shit.”

“But—”

“No.”

He stalked over to the sink and washed his mug. He couldn’t believe he was going to a fucking carnival, of all places. On a workday. During business hours. Sure, he’d already told Cooper he would be staying home today, so it wasn’t a big deal. And if it took a little bit of fun to get her to cooperate, then it was all for the greater good. And truth be told?