Dirty Dealer - Kacey Shea Page 0,8

mine. But I use it on set. I’m a traveling makeup artist.”

“Ah.” I resituate myself in an effort to disguise my arousal. “So after you ditch that hunk of junk, there’s no Prius in your future?”

“No.” She bites down on her lip and glances out the window.

I can’t help but pick up on the loss of her good mood. Fuck. Did I do that? Shit. I totally insulted her car. She probably thinks I’m a pretentious asshole. She wouldn’t be entirely wrong, but for some strange reason I care. I dig into the bag at my console and produce a peace offering, hoping to earn another smile. “Candy?”

“I better not,” she refuses politely. My eyes dart to her lips when she licks them. Fuck. I’m almost thankful for her refusal. Watching her suck on candy would provoke a special kind of torture for my dick. Thinking about my dick is getting it hard again. She’s not only going to peg me for a cocky bastard, but no better than a pubescent teen. I keep my eyes focused on the road, count down from one hundred, and will myself to act normal. Only, this situation is anything but, and when I sneak another glace her way, she looks panicked.

I should say something.

Make a joke.

Talk about the weather.

God damn it, I need to say something!

The uncomfortable silence is broken by a soft yip and whine.

Rachel startles and whips her head to mine. “Did you hear that?”

“The puppies.” I nod, blowing out a breath, thankful for a topic that won’t turn me on. “They’re probably hungry. Or starving for attention.”

“You have puppies?” She laughs, turning in her seat to look in the next row. That gorgeous smile’s back in place.

“I told you I did.”

She glares. “I thought you were lying.”

“I never lie.” I cross my heart to punctuate the truthfulness of my admission. “And I’d never joke about puppies.”

“Oh, my God!” she gushes. “They’re so cute! And tiny! I wish I could hold one.”

“Go ahead.”

“Are you serious?” Her eyes widen with delight, and then she’s diving under her shoulder strap, twisting and bending in a move that rivals any yoga expert.

It’s a challenge to keep my eyes on the road and not on her ass as she hangs over the center console. If I weren’t concerned about the safety of the pups, I’d tap the brakes just for an excuse to reach out and grab a handful. But I have restraint. “Careful you don’t let Tweedle Dee out when you play with Dum.”

“Please tell me those aren’t their names.” She whips her head up and pins me with a serious stare.

I chuckle at the horror in her voice.

Before I have an opportunity to answer, or to explain how they aren’t mine, she’s upright in her seat. Clutching one of the tiny terriers to her chest, she coos and admires, “Oh, baby. Aren’t you just the sweetest thing? You just needed some love, didn’t you? You wanted to be held?”

“Fuck, yeah,” I mutter under my breath.

“Hmm?” Rachel lifts her gaze distractedly, her attention still fully captured by the expensive little rat.

He nuzzles his face between her tits. Lucky bastard. Am I really jealous of a puppy? Yes, yes, I am. I sneak another glance before fixing my eyes on the road. “You’re a dog person, then?”

“I love dogs.” She sighs.

“You have one?”

“Oh, no. Complex doesn’t allow them, and I’m not sure my roommates would approve anyway. Besides, I work too much. I’d feel guilty leaving a little nugget this precious alone all day. You are just the cutest, aren’t you?” She stops showering the dog with kisses to throw me an unfiltered grin. “But growing up, we always had dogs.”

“Was that here in California?”

“Iowa. We lived on a big lot. One with enough room for us and the dog to run wild. But I haven’t had a pet in years. I moved to Chicago for college and lived most of my adult life in the city.” She shakes her head, stroking the body of the pup who is now snug and asleep in her arms. “I don’t know why I’m telling you my life story.”

I don’t know either, but I yearn for more. I want to know everything about her. “Must be the puppy. He’s cast you under some kind of truth serum haze.”

“Must be.” She grins and looks up at me from beneath impossibly long lashes.

I listen to her chatter about her family dogs. The golden retriever, a crazy mutt who only lasted

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