Reaper's Fire Page 10

Curves, baby. Yeah. I got ’em.

“You look good,” he said, and I bit back a smile.

“Well, it is Saturday night,” I said, deciding he didn’t need to know my hot date was with a very married girlfriend. “I have the keys to your place here. It’s unit 2A. You can let yourself in anytime, but it might be good if we meet later in the week so I can show you around. Any idea what time might work for you?”

He frowned, “Probably not until Monday or Tuesday. I’ve got some loose ends to tie up first.”

I took a minute to imagine what it’d feel like to be tied up by a guy like Cooper. Then the roar of a motorcycle pulling into the lot caught my attention, and I watched as another man rolled to a stop next to us. He swung a leg over his bike, pulling off his helmet to reveal messy blond hair. He was younger than me—probably in his early twenties—and he was hot as hell.

God, what is it with you and perving on the barely legal ones?

“Hey there,” the new arrival said, openly checking me out. (Nice shot in the ego, that.) “Aren’t you going to introduce me, Coop?”

Something passed between the two men, some hint of warning or danger or . . . I couldn’t tell, but I got the distinct sense that Cooper was annoyed with his friend.

“You got here earlier than I expected,” Cooper said. “This is Tinker—looks like I’ll be renting from her. I need a place and she’s got one, so it works out perfect. Tinker, this is Levi, my cousin.”

Cousin? Must’ve been an interesting family tree, because while Cooper had darker skin and thick black hair, Levi was pale and blond. He was also young, but that didn’t stop me from noticing that he and his older cousin had one thing in common.

Both of them were beautiful.

So unfair.

“Nice to meet you, Levi,” I said, offering him a friendly smile. “I’m looking forward to you moving in, Cooper. I need to get going, though—I’m headed down to Ellensburg for the night. Later!”

Their eyes followed me as I climbed into my car, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I took care to show even more leg this time. The engine started with a powerful rumble—all raw power and muscle—and I held back a laugh as I reversed out, then thrust it into first and drove off with a spray of gravel.

So what if my new handyman had a hot, skanky little girlfriend waiting for him?

I’d bet my last dollar that girl couldn’t handle a stick half as well as me.

• • •

I didn’t see Cooper Romero again until Tuesday night, when he pulled up to the Garrett apartment building in a semi truck. Behind it was a flatbed trailer with his bike on it. I’d watched, wide-eyed, from the kitchen window, wondering what the hell I’d been thinking, hiring a man I knew so little about that I didn’t even realize he was a trucker.

Oopsie.

Cooper swung down out of the cab, giving the trailer a quick once-over before heading toward the house. Brushing off my clothes, I gave my hair a quick check in the hall tree and opened the front door.

“Hey there,” I said, hoping my voice sounded calmer and more sophisticated than I felt. Cooper was so beautiful he unnerved me. I’d sort of hoped that maybe I’d been wrong about how sexy he was—that I’d exaggerated it in my mind or something, out of sheer desperation.

Not so much.

The man was still tall and built, and today his hair was hanging loose around his shoulders. I swear, he looked like a male model, or he would’ve if he’d bothered to shave anytime in the last couple days. He didn’t quite have a beard, but there was definitely more than scruff on his cheeks. It would feel all rough and prickly against my cheek if—stop it right now. What are you, a teenager in heat?

“Wow, that’s a big truck,” I said. Cooper cocked a brow and smirked.

“I get that a lot.”

Rolling my eyes, I bit back a laugh. “That came out wrong. All I meant was that I didn’t realize you drove a semi. I don’t think we have room in the parking lot for it. You could park the cab in the back, but there’s not enough room for the trailer.”

“No worries,” he replied. “I just borrowed it from a friend to carry my bike to town. I’ll be taking it back to him tomorrow.”

“I guess I didn’t realize you were a trucker,” I said, considering the big rig, wondering how he’d be able to do repairs if he was traveling all the time. Should’ve had him fill out an application, dumbass . . . “I guess you’re on the road a lot?”

“I’m taking some time off,” he said. “I’ve been doing long-haul routes for years. Came home a few weeks ago to find my wife had moved on, so now I’m working on a divorce. She lives down in Ellensburg, but I wanted a fresh start. Somewhere far enough away to have my own space, but close enough to see my kids more than twice a year.”

“How did you pick Hallies Falls, of all places? I mean, I can think of a lot of towns that might be better.”

All of them. All of them would be better, in my experience.

Cooper shrugged, offering me a grin that made my stomach clench.

“I passed through here a few years back with a friend, thought it looked pretty. When I needed a place to land it came to mind—simple as that.”

“So you’re only going to be here short term?” I asked, although I really didn’t have any room to criticize. Sure, I’d hired him to do work around the building, but it wasn’t like we had a contract or anything. I’d probably sell the place and go back to Seattle if Dad . . . Nope, wasn’t ready to think about that. Denial. Denial had served the women of my family well for generations. No reason to change that now.

“I haven’t decided yet,” he replied. “Depends on whether I find a reason to stick around, I guess.”

Whatever I might’ve said in reply died as a battered old Jeep Wrangler pulled up, parking along the street in front of the building. The door flew open and out climbed Talia Jackson. Her eyes snapped toward us, narrowing.

“Hey, baby!” she called, walking over to stand pointedly between me and Cooper. I watched as she wrapped herself around him for a deep kiss. Part of me hoped he’d tell her to fuck off. Instead he kissed her back, digging his hands into her flat ass. Then Talia broke free, turning to smirk at me.

Message received.

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