Allegiance - Chiah Wilder Page 0,20

light blush flushing across her cheeks, she took a step back, knowing she needed to go before things went any further between them. “It was nice seeing you.”

It was a lame exit, especially when he was taking her out to dinner on Saturday. But his comment, and the desire in his eyes, put her a little off her game. Hell, he knocked her off her feet in ways no one else did, or had done in a very long time.

“I’ll call to let you know which restaurant we’re going to. I’d call around now, but you seem a little harried.” His eyes and face were bright with their flirtation.

“You can tell so easily that it’s been a rough week for me?”

“Trust me, I’m smarter than I look.”

Lena was prepared to let the comment sit between them as she sashayed out of his shop and back into the sunshine, but she couldn’t let it stand. The question bounced around in her head until it was flying out of her mouth.

“Who says you aren’t smart, Tank?”

Chuckling, he stepped out from behind the desk so that they were only a few inches away from each other. “Not anyone who knows what’s good for them. It’s the usual first impression I give off to most people, though. You know, big, dumb jock, or scary enforcer.”

He didn’t look away when he said it, and she could tell he didn’t care one way or the other what people thought of him, and she liked that.

“I’m sure the women get a very different impression.” She tilted her head, almost daring him to call her a liar.

“It can go both ways, but a majority of chicks dig me.” He ran a hand over his head, his grin spreading even wider. “I like how chatty you are when you’re not at work. Maybe I should take advantage of my good luck and take you to dinner tomorrow night. I wouldn’t want whatever this is to wear off and be sitting across from a mute all night.”

“First of all, that’s mildly insulting,” Lena scoffed, adjusting the stack of papers. “Second, let’s meet at Crawley’s on Saturday.”

He hesitated, which caught her by surprise. “Why the fuck are we meeting at a bar? I’m taking you out for dinner.”

“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, and this keeps things casual. We can go to the restaurant from Crawley’s.”

“That’s ridiculous, and back-assed as hell.”

She shrugged. “That’s my condition.”

Tank moved his hand from his head to the back of his neck. “All right, whatever. I don’t normally make it a habit of being with women who are so…”

“Demanding? Controlling? Intelligent? Superior?”

“Insistent.” He rocked back on the heels of his boots and crossed his arms as he studied her. “Just so you know, casual is my only mode, so you don’t have to worry your gorgeous little head about that, Lena.”

Her name slipped off his tongue like a seductive caress. For a heartbeat, she could only stand there as his voice echoed between her ears, teasing and full of promise beneath the deep tenor that sent a single shiver down her spine. She had to watch herself around him, because he was definitely dangerous. She’d bet he was lethal between the sheets, with his lips caressing her bare flesh while he whispered every little detail of what he wanted to do to her body. She could almost feel his tongue and teeth tracing glistening patterns on her flesh that dried against the teasing air—

“You still with me?”

Jumping at his voice, she nodded absently, swallowing past the sudden arousal that was flooding through her body.

“Thanks for the flyers. That was kind of you, but I’ve got to get back to work now. I’ll see you Saturday.” She spun around and marched out the door without a backward glance.

Forget the blue sky, the pungent smells, the lulling breeze. None of that mattered at the moment. The only thing on her mind was Tank.

There was no doubt about it—the man was turning out to be the biggest complication ever.

Lena

Saturday

Many of the Santa Teresita bars lined the streets on lower Union Street, and Crawley’s sat on the corner, its yellow neon sign a beacon for those in search of good bar food and cheap drinks.

Lena folded one leg over the other, dangling her high heel, and brought the cocktail glass to her lips. Crawley’s was known for its all-night happy hour, and sometimes she’d stop by after a long day at work and order one of the

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