I was reconsidering this life rule and making plans to troll Goodwill stores for stained, used sweatpants and sweatshirts, trying to contain the queasiness this thought was giving me as I opened up my food and the scent of sublime Imperial kung pao shrimp hit my nostrils.

Heaven in a Chinese food container.

I totally forgot about my Goodwill plans and snatched up the chopsticks. When my cell on my desk rang, I was so distracted by my watering mouth and a mind way too filled with garbage that I stupidly picked it up, hit the button, and put it to my ear. I did this, one, without reading the display and two, without thinking about the fact that Hop was sitting right across from me.

“Hello,” I greeted.

“Lanie, darling! Guess what?”

Mom.

Mom sounding excited, which was never good. You’d think it would be but it never, ever was.

Mom on my phone with me in my office with Imperial kung pao shrimp, one of my drugs of choice, and Hopper Kincaid, another one, Hop being the drug that was harder to beat.

Why me?

My eyes went to Hop to find his eyes curious and warm on me.

He had great eyes.

Gah!

Everything that was happening crashing over me, my forehead went to the edge of my desk, where I pounded it repeatedly.

“Lanie?” Mom called into my ear.

“Babe, Jesus, stop doin’ that,” Hop called across my desk.

Silence from Mom but as for me, my entire body went still, which fortunately meant I quit banging my head on my desk.

“Lanie, baby girl, are you with a man?” Mom asked, sounding breathy, which meant even more excited.

Damn!

I started banging my forehead on my desk again.

“Lanie, seriously, stop f**kin’ doin’ that,” Hop ordered, closer, like he was leaning across my desk, and also sharper, kind of like a gentle bark.

“Oh my goodness, Lanie! Are you there? What’s going on? Why aren’t you speaking? Are you out on a date?” Mom asked, and I shot up to sitting in my chair.

When I did, I saw Hop did not have his feet on my desk. He was out of his chair, leaned across the desk toward me. His food container was set aside, one of his rough, callused, beautiful, strong, intensely masculine hands planted in the middle of my desk. His eyes were intent on me.

“Lanie! Are you there?” Mom called, beginning to sound panicked.

“I’m here, Mom, and I’m not out on a date,” I finally replied.

Hop held my eyes.

Mom said nothing for a few moments, then, “All right, then who’s that man I hear?”

“No one,” I told her.

Quiet from Mom again until, “Uh, whoever that no one is, he has a nice voice.”

He did. It was deep, slightly rough, mostly smooth, and this might sound impossible but it absolutely wasn’t. It could get rougher or smoother, depending. For instance, it got smoother when he was doing something to me. It got rougher when I was doing something to him.

“Though,” she continued, luckily breaking me out of these heated thoughts, “it’s rude to use the f-word. If he’s an acquaintance of yours, you should find a quiet moment to tell him that.”

Argh.

I pulled in breath, tearing my eyes from Hop’s, I turned slightly in my chair and said, “Listen, Mom, I’m at work, getting a few things sorted. My mind was occupied when I picked up. Sorry. What’s up?”

“Oh, okay, darling,” she murmured then, back to excitement, “Guess what?”

I didn’t want to guess because I knew whatever “what” was was not going to be good for me.

With no choice I asked, “What?”

Mom didn’t make me work for it. She never did. She didn’t have patience for that kind of thing. If she was hepped up about something, she let it rip.

Something else, alas, she’d given to me.

“Your Dad and I are coming out next weekend!” she cried with glee.

Oh God.

Oh no.

Oh hell.

Damn!

This was not happening!

Thinking quickly and thus stupidly, I rushed out, “You can’t do that. I’m having my house fumigated next weekend.”

“Oh my Lord!” Mom exclaimed in horror. “Do you have an infestation?”

No, I did not. In fact, I wasn’t even certain what fumigation was since I’d never had to have it done so, in desperation, I turned to my computer, grabbed the mouse and hit the icon to load Explorer in order to look it up.

“Uh…” I mumbled, stalling for time, trying to ignore the feel of Hop’s eyes on me. I knew he’d moved away and sat back down but I refused to look at him as I tapped frantically on my keyboard.

“That’s terrible, darling,” Mom’s voice came in my ear. “Hold on, let me talk to your father. We’ll come up with something.”

That was what I was afraid of as I quickly read that yes, indeed, fumigation was a means of controlling pests.

Ugh.

Well, the good news was, this wasn’t a total lie considering, if Hop didn’t leave me alone by next weekend, I would need a fumigation. But I didn’t think there were companies that had chemicals that could keep handsome badass bikers at bay.

I sat back in defeat in my chair, avoiding Hop’s gaze by turning mine to the ceiling.

Not long after I began my contemplation of the ceiling tiles, Dad’s voice sounded in my ear. “Lanie, honey, what’s this about an infestation?”

I moved my eyes to my shrimp. “It isn’t as bad as it sounds, Dad. I just can’t have visitors next weekend.”

“That’s outrageous,” he declared pompously. “That brownstone is in an excellent neighborhood, sound construction, premier carpentry. How on earth did this happen?”

He would know all that. He’d insisted I accept the healthy down payment that made my mortgage affordable on a home I would never have been able to afford on my own.

No way his daughter was residing in anything but the absolute best.

With bad timing, this brought to mind the fact that I had also allowed Elliott to take the unprecedented stand that we were going to pay for our wedding. He knew how I felt about Dad’s guilty generosity so he put his foot down that we were going to have the wedding we wanted and we were going to pay for it.

This had a variety of disastrous results. The first being Dad, who had no respect for Elliott, getting some.

“Didn’t know the boy had it in him,” Dad had mumbled with surprised admiration.