Headhunter (With Me in Seattle Mafia 2)

“Stop it with this.” Unable to hold myself back, I cross to her and take her shoulders in my hands, mindful that she’s still sore from yesterday. “If that happened to you, it’s because boys are fucked-up in the head. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Look.” She shrugs out of my hold. “You don’t owe me anything. It was only some harmless flirting. I get it. I’m a big girl, and you’ve just made it perfectly clear where we stand. Understood.”

“Fuck.” I drag my hands down my face in frustration. I want her. I want every inch of her, for today and for the rest of my fucking life. And that makes me the biggest, most selfish jerk in the world because this can’t work. “Ivie, you’re a beautiful woman. You’re funny and smart, and your clumsiness makes you all the more fun. I think you’re amazing.”

“But you don’t want me.” She nods and motions for me to leave. “You can go.”

“No, damn it.” I advance on her and pull her against me, fold my lips over hers and take her. This kiss is desperate, full of fire and frustration. After a long moment, her hands fist in my shirt at my sides, and she holds on as I take us both on a ride. “I want you. I want you so badly it’s fucking killing me.”

“I’m right here.” A soft sob escapes her throat as I kiss my way down to her collarbone. “Wait.”

She takes my face in her hands and looks deeply into my eyes.

“You’re afraid.”

I start to deny it, but she holds me tighter.

“You are. Why are you scared?”

I tip my forehead to hers and let out a long, even breath.

I’m afraid of falling in love with you and then leaving you here alone.

But I can’t say that. I just can’t. Not right now.

“I’m afraid of a lot of things,” I say at last and brush my fingertips down her cheek. “You being hurt is at the top of the list.”

Her eyes clear, and all of the anger and confusion from a moment ago just evaporates. What’s left nearly takes my breath away.

“Don’t fall in love with me, little dove.”

“No. That would be ridiculous.” Her lips twitch into a small smile. “Are we done fighting now?”

“I feel like that’s a trick question.”

“Looks like we are. Let’s get out of this house. Show me around. I just have to change my clothes. Can we walk the ranch, or will we be in the car?”

I know what she’s doing, and it won’t work. But I don’t want to see the happiness in her eyes disappear.

“We can walk it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I brought some sneakers. I’ll be ready in ten.”

* * *

“Why do you have a bunker?”

We’re standing at the opening, staring down into the black hole.

“Are you a prepper?” she asks before I can reply to the first question.

“I’m the king of preppers,” I say with a laugh. “I’m always prepared for anything.”

“I see that.” She glances around. “Like the nuclear apocalypse.”

“Hey, you never know, right?”

She narrows her eyes at me. “If there’s a nuclear apocalypse, I don’t want to survive it. Do you know how horrible it would be? Horrible. That’s a solid ‘no, thanks’ for me.”

I laugh and tuck her hair behind her ear. “This isn’t here for that. If someone ever breached my property, and all hell broke loose, this is the most secure place on the ranch.”

Her eyes go wide, and she looks down again. “Jesus, Shane. You’re intense.”

“You have no idea.”

I look up at the sound of an engine, just in time to see Curt making his way over to us on an ATV.

“Hey, boss,” he says when he cuts the engine. “Welcome home.”

“Thanks. This is Ivie. Ivie, this is Curt.”

“Ma’am.” Curt offers her a nod. “Everything okay at the house?”

“It’s great. Cox is coming this afternoon.”

“He called me,” Curt confirms. “He should arrive around oh-sixteen-hundred. Been quiet around here while you were gone.”

“We like it quiet.”

“So, Curt, how long have you lived here?” Ivie asks, trying to make conversation.

“Oh, going on about eight years or so now, I guess.”

“Nice. And where are you from originally?”

Curt smiles politely but checks his watch. “I have some things to see to. Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

He nods and takes off to the other side of the ranch.

“What did I say?”

“He doesn’t like to talk about himself much.”

“He’s much younger than I expected,” she admits. “You said he doesn’t like to be around people?”

“No. He saw some bad things in action and has some pretty severe PTSD. He does better being a little isolated. The ranch suits him.”

“Poor guy,” she murmurs. “Okay, do I get to see this super-safe bunker?”

“Sure.”

I lead her down the stairs to the large room below. I flip on lights and step to the side so she can look around.