the movers to lift the mattress she and Ace had slept on last night. “They’re obviously here under duress. I’m a cop. I can’t condone illegal activities going on in my home while I’m standing right here.”
Ace stroked his chin and nodded. “Right. We’ll go to the Roadhouse. Get a drink. Then you won’t be standing here. You’ll be sitting somewhere else. And as for duress…” He looked over at the movers and bellowed. “Tuscans! My girl wants to know if you’re here of your own free will. If you’re unsure about the answer to that question, Kickstand and Slider can help you out.”
The Tuscans looked at each other, then from Kickstand and bald, pierced, and tatted Slider behind them, to Ace, and back to each other. They blanched, and then nodded.
“You just threatened them,” Sophie growled.
“Did you hear me threaten them? Did you see me lift a hand or make any kind of threatening gesture?”
“This is ridiculous.” She stalked toward the door. “I want them out of here. Now.”
Ace came up behind her and bent down to nuzzle her neck. “Babe. Me and the Tuscans have an understanding. They aren’t leaving until the job is done. And it’s not like they weren’t contracted to do the job. I didn’t pull random people off the street and force them to work. They owe you the time. Give them a chance to do the right thing.”
Her brain fuzzed as the touch of his lips on her sensitive skin sent a wave of electric sparks through her body. She leaned her forehead against the door and sighed. “I can’t believe I’m letting you talk me into this. And if Jason hadn’t stood me up tonight and left me without anyone to help move the furniture, I would have said no.”
Ace stroked a soothing hand down her hair. “You haven’t heard from Jason?”
“Not since last night. After I told him about the movers, he promised to come tonight and help me out. But I couldn’t get in touch with him all day, and he never showed.”
Ace’s hand stilled and he pulled out his phone. “I’ll send someone by his place. Check things out.”
Sophie turned to face him. “You seem to have unlimited resources at your disposal.”
“They’re called prospects, and they’re useful for doing all sorts of things from polishing my boots to getting me beer to watching the bikes.” He reached around her and pulled open the door. “So…we going for that drink? Jackie and Kickstand can join us, and Spook and Slider will text us when the Tuscans are done.”
“Is this the same kind of choice you offered the Tuscans?”
Ace threw back his head and laughed. “Babe, if I offered you the same choice I offered the Tuscans, you’d put a bullet through my head.”
“Thought about it.” She pushed past him and into the kitchen to grab her purse. “Decided I didn’t want to get blood on my new floor.”
“Much appreciated.” He waved for Jackie and Kickstand to join them, and Sophie leaned against the wall while they gave some last-minute instructions to Slider and his almost twin, Spook.
“By the way,” she said, toying with the hem of her shirt. “I thought I made it clear, it was just one night.”
“Nope.”
“Nope?”
“One night wasn’t enough.” He brushed her hair back, tucking a wayward strand behind her ear, and a delicious shiver wound its way up her spine.
“What if I wanted it to be just one night?” He was so close she could feel the heat from his body, the warmth of his breath on her skin. “What if I’ve just made it through a bad divorce, and I’m just not interested in anything more than casual sex?”
Ace’s fingers lingered on her neck, gently caressing her skin. Sophie’s mouth went dry, and a flush of desire raced through her veins.
“I’m okay with that, babe. Me’n relationships don’t seem to work out too good.”
Her tension eased the tiniest bit. “Good to hear. My ex tried to kill me when I filed for divorce, so I’m pretty much done with relationships, too.”
His hand tightened on her shoulder in a vice-like grip. “Is the bastard dead? He’d better be fucking dead—”
“He’s in jail.”
“Which jail?”
Sophie’s lips quivered in a smile. “Why do you want to know? He was caught, tried, and convicted. Justice was served.” Although, fear still niggled at the back of her mind. Ryan was a smooth talker, a manipulator. She had no doubt he would say the right things and grease the right palms until