Like he wasn't finished with her and wanted to repeat their morning activity all over again.
"I like the way you smell."
She answered, "It's just gonna go back to smelling like you whenever you rewash it."
"I'm okay with that," he said. "I just want it to smell like you while I'm working at Crow Bar tonight."
Her mouth fell open. "You're not going to wear this while you're at work!"
He smirked. "Why not?"
"Because that's…that's…" Her mind wandered. "You'll probably get sweaty, which will mix all up with my funky smell."
He lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah. That's the point. Your scent is hot as fuck, and I want to wear it to work while we're not together."
She spoke with a mouthful of pancakes. "I could just come with you." She swallowed. "Sorry. Terrible table manners."
He lifted his chin. "Hanging around the Brute Squad too much. Bad habits arise. But no. You're not coming to work with me."
Harper reared back. "Why not?"
"Don't start."
"Listen. I know you didn't want me there before because you could not stand the sight of me. But if you think I'm going to keep up some kind of facade around your friends, you're dead wrong, buster."
Her fork clattered to her plate when suddenly her chair moved on its own. Of course, it wasn't actually moving on its own. Dash had reached around the table, grabbed the leg of her chair, and yanked her right up next to him.
"Look at me, Harper."
"Do I have a choice?"
"You're my girl, and I'm not embarrassed about it. Do you understand? But you can't come with me to Crow Bar because you need to be protected."
"Protected from what?"
"What do you think? I have a hard enough time keeping an eye on the women who come in there strutting around in front of Girardi's wise guys."
"Well, I would have thought you'd want me as close to you as possible."
"That's the problem. You're going to be sneaking around asking questions and making trouble for yourself."
"Probably," she said.
"Which is why you need to stay at your moms' house tonight."
"My moms? What is this curfew? Am I 16?"
"Harper, come on. I'm serious."
"I am too."
"I know, and it's adorable that you think you can tell me what to do and where to be."
There he was. The grumpy old Dash she knew and…well, not loved…but somehow could not stop provoking.
He took a deep breath. "I don't want to argue with you. So I'm asking. Will you please, for the sake of my peace of mind, stay with your moms tonight?"
She twisted her lips while she thought. "You know, we've never been close until now, and yet, I've spent every night alone. Never once been in danger."
"And you've never been openly trying to get people to talk about the missing girls."
She cocked her head. "I tried to get the story, but Greg, my boss, wouldn't give it to me. Ainsley is working on it."
Dash looked at her. "Don't bullshit me. I saw the way the mayor was looking at you when you got by his handlers. You weren't interviewing him about anything fun."
"What do you know about me openly trying to get information about a story that's not even mine?"
"Harper."
"How do you know me so well already?"
"You forget, I've known you my entire life."
She smirked. "Yeah, but we hated each other."
"The only people we pay attention to more than the people we love are the people we hate and the people who annoy us."
"Which category do I fall into now?"
"Guess we'll find out," he said. "In the meantime, let's just enjoy what there is of the weekend together."
"What did you have in mind other than lots of boning?"
Dash chuckled and leaned down for a kiss, which she tilted her head up to receive. He was such a deep, fierce kisser. He put his full self into it. His kisses were as hot as his temper, which was often on full display at work. Between the misbehaving drunks and Billy's smart mouth, Dash could seethe and then explode like an ancient volcano.
He shrugged. "How about I take you out on a proper date?"
Chapter Eleven
Dash
He had never seen a quiet and demure side of Harper before and started to wonder if she was secretly planning something he needed to know about.
Twenty-four hours ago, he would not want to know. At that moment, he was waiting for her to get ready for their first date? He wanted to know everything she was up to.
She exited the bathroom wearing a pair of jeans ripped at the knee, the material hugging her shapely thighs. Unlike the bulky layers she usually wore, the fitted turtleneck sweater showed off every dip and curve of her shape.
"I've never seen that before," he said.
"You've never noticed it before. You've rarely seen me outside of my parka or my industrial apron at the distillery."
"Not true. Last summer, you wore the purple bikini to the beach."
She blushed. "It's a tankini."
"I don't know what the fuck is a tankini. All I know is it showed too much bare skin, and I had to keep my eye on you all day, especially when the beach was crowded."
Harper slinked over to where he sat on the edge of the bed and straddled him. "Lynwood Dashell Fitzgerald. You really were obsessed with me."
For once, she said that without any fear or confusion or judgment. She stated the facts.
"Correction. I am obsessed."
He watched the red flush hit her cheeks, making her freckles pop out in contrast. Just to drive the point home, he slid his arms around her hips and cinched her close.
She ground against his pelvis, pulling a groan from his throat.
"I like this view. I'm gonna enjoy fucking you like this later," he growled.
She leaned in and kissed him close to his ear. "Why wait?"
Dash groaned. He had a plan for that day, and as much as he would love to keep Harper cooped up in this house with him all weekend, he wanted to do
