Hidden Love by MINK

4

Kent

She’s taking this deep cover thing to heart a little too much. A fabric sale?

“Can you fix it?” She peers under the hood as the other man approaches.

“Yes.” I have a knife ready and waiting for him, but I don’t draw it. Not yet. Is he an operative, too?

“I got this, man.” Tony steps closer.

“You can go.” I turn my back on him and re-attach the cables to the battery. I’d intended to give her some car trouble, then possibly kidnap her for interrogation while she was distracted. But two rows over, an older man was unloading groceries, so I stayed my hand. Then this bozo with the mustache showed up. No way am I letting him take my prize right out from under me. This woman is mine. Professionally speaking, of course. Nothing more.

“I’m not going anywhere.” His voice is a little higher in challenge. “She called me for help.”

“Actually, you called me, but—”

“Doesn’t matter.”

I stand and turn. “Don’t interrupt her.”

Tony’s eyes narrow. “Get the fuck out of here, man.”

A knife is too much in this situation. I realize that. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to gut him. But I fist my hands instead.

“Will it start?” Layla asks me, her upturned face a magnet for my gaze. She’s beautiful, her messy hair piled on her head and her brown eyes a mystery in the low light of the parking deck. She drips innocence, but it’s all part of the show, I remind myself. I spent two months on the inside thanks to her.

“It’ll start.” I reach back and slam the hood.

Tony jumps a hair.

I smirk.

“Great. Thanks for your help.” She spins and hurries back to the driver’s side.

“Hey, wait.” Tony skitters past. “Want to watch a movie later?”

“Can’t.” She gets in and fastens her seatbelt. “I have too many stuffies to make.”

“You have what?” He shakes his head, then starts to run around her car. “I’ll come with you.”

I beat him to the passenger door, open it, and slide in.

She looks over at me with big eyes. “What are you--”

“I need to pick up some fabric, too.” I slam the door as Tony reaches for it, then hit the lock button so he can’t get in the back. “Let’s go.” I use my other hand to shift the car into drive as Tony yells for me to get the fuck out of the car.

“I should tell you to get out.”

“You could, and I’d get out if you ask, but I’ll take my time.” I lean back, getting comfortable as Tony’s face gets even redder. “Got an old knee injury that acts up something fierce when I try to get out of small cars. Takes a while.”

She taps the brake, then glances at her phone in the center console. “I have to get to the sale. There are doorbusters, and I’m already running late.”

“Better step on it, then.”

“Layla, you don’t even know this guy.” Tony yells and knocks on her window.

“I’m Kent.” That part’s true. I kept my first name when I joined the Brotherhood. Everything else is a smokescreen.

“Kent.” She nibbles her lip. “Are you a serial killer or anything?”

“No. I just need some fabric.” That part’s not so true.

She stares at me as Tony yanks on the back door, then rolls down her window a few inches. “His name is Kent. We’re going to get fabric. If Gia doesn’t hear from me, she’ll know Kent has murdered me.”

“I’ll come with you.” He yanks again.

I hover my finger over the lock button, just in case Layla tries to open up for him.

“Don’t be silly. You don’t need any fabric. Bye, Tony.” She rolls the window up, hits the gas, and sends us up the ramp and out onto the street.

“This is a bad idea.” She speeds along the city street.

“Driving like a maniac? Yes.” I cross my arms.

“No, bringing you with me. Where did you even come from? I’ve never seen you in the building before.”

“I was visiting a friend.”

“Who?” She cuts her eyes over toward me.

“Just a guy I know.”

“What’s his name?”

“Not sure, but he’s got a thing for formal wear.” Tuxedos in particular.

“What?” Her eyebrow pops up.

“Why are you so intent on maintaining this cover story?” I have the urge to push her brown hair behind her ear so I can get a better look at her profile. I don’t.

“Cover story?”

“Making stuffed animals. Seems like a lot of work for a one-time job.”

She slows and stops for a red light. “My stuffies are one of a kind, but I wouldn’t say they’re a one-time job. I’ve already got a nice little shop on Etsy and I sell some here and there at trade shows if I can get one of the last-minute bargain booths.” She stares at me, and her mouth drops open just the slightest bit.

When she looks at me like that, a thrill of heat races along my skin.

I swallow hard. “Green.”

“What?” She blinks.

“Green light.”

“Oh.” She whips her head back to the front and gasses it.

“Just seems like you’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get close to Tucker.”

“Tucker? The guy who owns Fill-a-Friend?” She turns into the fabric store parking lot. “I’ve never met him. He’s supposed to be coming to inspect the store soon. Wait.” She parks and turns to me. “How did you know I worked there?”

I humor her and reach up to tap the nametag hanging from her rear view mirror.

“Oh.” She smiles sheepishly. “Obvious.”

“I didn’t know there was another contract out on him.”

She cocks her head to the side. “I’m not a contract worker. They pay me like usual.”

I smirk. “They do, eh? Tell me, when you did that set-up, did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

“What set-up?”

“The one with all the stuffed dogs.” The one I did time for.

She stiffens. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure.” I nod. “Sure you don’t, kitten.”

“Okay, you’re strange.” She does that long stare again, her eyes focused on mine as if she can see the real me inside. “And ridiculously handsome.” Her cheeks blush a light pink.

I get the urge to reach for her, pull her across the console, and show her just how angry I am with her. But I’d do it with my tongue, my hands all over her body, and my cock wedged deep inside her.

“Did I say handsome? Pretend I didn’t say that.” She coughs into her hand. “Strange. Yes, you are definitely strange. But even strange people can appreciate a sale. Come on. Let’s load up on some good bargains.”