Lori glanced over and giggled. “Ah, are you having a hard time there?”

“Tease me now . . . go ahead.”

She licked her lips. “I’m sure I can manage to make it all better.”

He groaned. The only thing harder than riding a horse when you had a dick was riding one with a hard-on.

“Are you sure it’s okay that you’re here? Your boss isn’t going to be upset with the time off you’ve been taking?”

The tangling of the web he’d been weaving was starting to thicken up. “I get paid by the task, not by the hour. I’m good. Don’t you have enough to worry about other than my job?”

“I do. But I’d feel terrible if something happened between you and your boss.”

He really hoped the guilt down his spine wasn’t showing on his face. “Nothing is going to happen. I promise.”

They’d turned the horses back toward the ranch house and had to keep them from running home.

“If you ever wanted to change professions, Avery seems to think you have the perfect fit for a bodyguard.”

“And what does Avery know about bodyguards?”

“She said you have the perfect resting bitch face.”

“Was that a compliment?”

“Not sure. Probably.”

His horse tossed her head. “I wanted to be a cop, once.” A half-truth was the best he could give her without more questions.

Lori tilted her head. “What happened to that dream?”

The memory of blood running down his neck from the slash in his cheek while he watched his partner struggling to breathe flashed. “It didn’t work out.”

“I think you would make a great cop.”

As if he’d ever go back. Just thinking about it made the faded scar on his chin itch.

Reed glanced at Lori’s bouncing boobs as she bobbed around on the back of her horse. He’d gotten so far off his investigation surrounding Shannon and overwhelmed with everything Lori and Trina, he would have lost his job if he were still on the force.

He reminded himself that there was still a connection between Shannon and the others to warrant his interest, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he was doing his job as a PI.

What had Sasha learned? Was she working for Ruslan?

“Someone got quiet.” Lori pulled him out of his thoughts.

“I was just thinking.” He scrambled to come up with something distracting from the subject.

“About?”

“How I would have been a sucky cop, but a pair of handcuffs might have come in handy.”

Lori’s eyes widened.

And when she didn’t immediately deny that fantasy, he said, “Time to step out of your sexual wheelhouse, Counselor?”

Once again, she didn’t say no.

And Reed finished the rest of their ride with a raging hard-on.

“So you finally let Reed take a day off.” Danny moved around her kitchen as if he’d lived there for months rather than two weeks.

“He doesn’t live here.”

“Tell him that.”

Lori washed the tomatoes and pulled out her cutting board. “He goes home.”

Danny placed a hand on her hip, making her move so he could throw away the box that once held the spicy rice he was preparing on the stove.

“What’s the story with him, anyway?”

“We’re dating.” As if that wasn’t obvious.

“Dating exclusively?”

“There isn’t anyone else on my speed dial right now.”

“And his?”

Lori moved from one tomato to another. “I don’t think so. We haven’t really discussed it.”

“Not that you give him any time to play with someone else. Oh, Reed . . . I need a bodyguard, wanna step up?”

“I don’t talk like that!” But hearing her brother talk in a high octave, attempting to mimic her, made her laugh.

“What is it he said he does for a living?”

Lori tossed the end bits of the tomatoes into the garbage disposal and moved to the carrots. “Data processing . . . of some kind.”

“You don’t know?”

“He doesn’t talk about it.”

“Huh.” Danny stood over the stove, stirring the rice. Inside the oven was the chicken he’d marinated most of the day. “It doesn’t fit his personality.”

Lori sliced the carrots, concentrating hard to miss her fingers. Nobody liked bloody salad. “What doesn’t fit?”

“Data anything. He seems like the kind of guy who works with his hands.”

“Isn’t data processing working with your hands?”

“You know what I mean.” Danny removed two plates from the cupboard.

Carrots are done . . . what dressing? Lori opened the refrigerator and found vinaigrette and a pear. “Do I have walnuts?”

“What?”

She opened her pantry door to look. “Never mind.”

“I’m just saying . . . it doesn’t really fit.”

Along with the chocolate chips she’d bought a good six months before, when she was on a baking kick, she found the walnuts. The expiration date was still one month out. “Score.”

“Are you listening to me?”

“Yes.” She looked up and couldn’t for the life of her remember the last thing Danny had said. “No . . . what were you saying?”

“Reed. He doesn’t completely measure up.”

The walnuts in her hands forgotten, she paused. “Measure up to what?”

“Where did you two meet?”

“On the cruise in Barcelona.”

Danny leaned against the counter, arms folded over his chest. “Barcelona . . . as in Spain?”

“Yeah, I know . . . crazy, right? What are the chances of that?”

“Probably like point a zillion zeros to one.”

“That’s what I thought. But you never know.”

Danny had that look in his eye that reminded her of their father. The one that made her sit back and wonder what she’d said wrong. “What?”

He shook his head. “So, am I sleeping on the couch now, or can I keep the guest room?”

She grinned. “Has it been two weeks?”

“Yeah, not that you’d know it. I’ve been here more than you have.”

“When are you due to hit the fisherman sea of Mexico?”

“When I get there.” Danny pushed off the counter, leaned forward, and kissed her cheek. “Your choice, guest room or couch. But I need to crash here a little longer.”

“What do you mean by need?”

“Do I really need to spell it out for you?” Danny stared her down.

“I can take care of myself.”

“Never said you couldn’t.”

When had her brother grown up enough to put someone else before himself?

“My couch is meant for sitting . . . not sleeping.”

He smiled and walked away.

Later that night, while staring at the ceiling and hearing the snores of her brother in the other room, Lori closed her eyes and thought about Reed’s hands. Rough, working hands. She thought of her own in comparison. Soft hands of a woman who worked with paper and a computer. Reed didn’t talk about his work at all. Or maybe she wasn’t being a reciprocating girlfriend who asked enough questions. Either way, rough hands usually equated to harder work, not data processing.

Falling asleep didn’t come easy, and when she woke in the morning, she’d almost forgotten what had kept her awake.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Reed rolled his special pen in his hand while he glared at the flash drive microphone sitting on his desk. What the hell was he doing?

Was this how good cops turned bad?

One case? One twist of ethics that turned them into douchebags playing for the wrong team?

At some point in this investigation he’d sold a tiny bit of his soul. Because the more he learned about Lori and her gaggle of rich and lonely friends, the more he felt for them. And who would have thought that was possible?

God, what the hell was wrong with him?

He knew sleeping with her had been a bad idea the first time he’d done it. He couldn’t help himself. And now . . . he didn’t want to help himself. He felt like an addict every time he drove to the city. One last time, he’d chant. Plant the bug, make his excuses . . . then she’d smile and the lawyer in her would stop at the door and the flirt wearing a thong would come out.

Yeah, he wasn’t going anywhere.

Because Ruslan was gunning for her.

And Sasha was on to her . . . and him by now.

Instead of trying to investigate a way to nail Wentworth with information gathered from Lori and her gaggle of friends, Reed was trying to figure out how to keep their secrets that he had yet to learn.

He closed his eyes and cussed the universe.

It didn’t matter what side of the political fence the public servant sat on, they all did one thing very, very well . . . they raised money.

Wearing a slim-fitting black cocktail dress with an expensive pair of red-bottom shoes that Sam had bought her for her last birthday, Lori stood with Gabi and Hunter Blackwell, wineglasses in their hands. Most of the time Sam, and sometimes her husband, would attend these events with her, but Sam and Blake were in Europe. So tonight, Gabi, a recruiter for Alliance, and Lori were there in support of Shannon.