“I’ll pass.” Bree felt the heat rising in her cheeks and turned her attention away but not before she saw the flash of amusement in his eyes.
She focused instead on topping off her candy dish. Her Squirrel Nut Zipper stash was running low, so she added in some Mary Janes, too, making sure she locked her drawer afterward. The candies were a big hit with the staff, and if she didn’t, they’d disappear the next time she visited the ladies’ room.
“Where do you get this stuff anyway?” he asked.
“Special order.” A very niche shop in fact, which specialized in old-fashioned candies and sweets. “So, no trade?”
He chuckled, a low, sexy sound. “Charlie’s right. You are good at the human-interest stuff.”
“Eavesdropping, Stone? You’re better than that.”
“Don’t underestimate the value of putting an ear to the wall. It’s an effective method of finding out what’s going on behind closed doors,” he said with a grin. “But seriously, Bree. You have a gift. People like telling you things.”
People did have a tendency to tell her things, sometimes at the most inopportune times. Like the day before, when the middle-aged male checker had decided to launch into a diatribe about his recent divorce at the sight of Bree’s basket of frozen entrées. Or when she and Toni had gone out to lunch last week, the server had felt compelled to share her mother-in-law troubles. The waitress had talked so long that they’d ended up getting their meals to go, so they wouldn’t miss an afternoon staff meeting.
Toni said it was because Bree was a “cream puff” at heart—soft and gooey and afraid of hurting people’s feelings. Bree, however, preferred to think that it was because she was more of a listener than a talker.
“I bet those old guys have some great stories to tell,” Hunter said thoughtfully.
Bree didn’t know if Hunter genuinely believed that or if he was just trying to make her feel better. Either way, it didn’t matter. He had his assignment, and she had hers.
“I suppose.” She exhaled and then grinned widely, holding out her hand. “Let’s wager. Whoever comes back with the best story springs for takeout.”
“You’re on.”
He snatched another handful of candies from the dish, grinned at her mock scowl, and stood to leave.
“Hey, Stone! What happens in Vegas ...better make a damn good story.”
His deep, rich laugh echoed all the way to the elevator.
Bree sighed and made her way over to Toni’s desk. Toni’s eyes were still peeled on the now-closed elevator doors, frozen in silent feminine appreciation.
“I swear, that man gets finer every day,” she said with a sigh, turning to Bree.
“If you say so,” Bree agreed.
Hunter was Hollywood handsome, charming and polished, but unlike Toni, Bree was drawn to guys who were less perfect and more like her—aka slightly damaged. Perhaps that was why she was approaching thirty and had yet to feel a special connection with anyone.
“Trust me, he’s been working out, and believe me, beneath the tailored suits, he’s packing.”
“TMI, coz. TMI.”
Toni sat back and gave Bree her full, undivided attention. “When was the last time you had a screaming O anyway?”
Bree opened her mouth to answer.
“And not one you gave yourself.”
Bree clamped her lips shut and said, “None of your business.”
“That long, huh? Rosa’s cousin Tomas is flying out to LA next week. Maybe we could—”
“No.”
“You thought he was hot when I showed you his picture.”
“I just said that to not hurt your feelings.”
“It’s not like you have to marry him or anything. Just let him take you to dinner and remind you that real men are better than battery-operated ones.”
“So, what you’re saying is, Dick is better than BOB.”
“Every damn time,” Toni said with conviction.
Clearly, Toni had had better experiences than Bree had if she believed that. But she was feeling rather restless, and if the photo was accurate, Tomas was smacked together pretty well.
“Let’s leave it at a firm maybe. Right now, I’ve got to get my butt on a plane.”
“Where are you going?”
“Sumneyville, Pennsylvania. Charlie wants me to stay a week, but I can’t imagine it taking that long.”
Toni’s fingers tapped away at the wireless keyboard in front of her. “That’s near the Poconos. Beautiful area. If you finish up early, you can do something fun, maybe go hiking or boating.”
“Have you met me?” Bree asked, smirking.
“Right. Well, New York City is only a couple hours away. You could hit up Fifth Avenue and do some shopping or ...” Toni realized what she was suggesting and backpedaled. The day they’d left, Bree had sworn never to step foot in the city again. “Scratch that. I’m sure you’ll find something to keep you occupied. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even meet the man of your dreams.”
Bree laughed. “Yeah, sure I will.”
Chapter Two
Cage
“Pizza,” Nick “Cage” Fumanti replied firmly and without hesitation. “New York style.”
He and his partners—Hugh “Heff” Bradley, Steve “Smoke” Tannen, Cole “Doc” Watson, Chris “Mad Dog” Sheppard, and Matt “Church” Winston—lingered in the Sanctuary dining room after breakfast, as requested by Kate.
Kate Handelmann, their newest addition and head chef-slash-cooking goddess of Sanctuary kitchen, scribbled into the notebook in front of her as they offered meal suggestions. Everything Kate made was good, and they weren’t picky, but she looked so earnest that he felt the need to say something.
“Old Forge style’s better,” Heff drawled. He leaned back and wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s shoulders.
“What the hell is that?” asked Smoke in a deep, growly voice.
“It’s phenomenal. Rectangular instead of circular. Comes in trays, not pies. Light, thick, fluffy, crisp, deep-fried flavor with lots of onions and cheese ...”
Smoke snorted.
“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. It’s orgasmic. And you know how fond I am of orgasms.” Heff grinned wickedly at Sandy, making her cheeks flush.
“I can do both,” Kate said, nodding, ignoring Heff like a seasoned pro. “Maybe a calzone, too. I’ve been wanting to try one of those.”
“Is it any wonder I love this woman?” Mad Dog murmured.
If there were such
