“Am I the only person who doesn’t know this band?”

“Well, you are either stuck in the ’90s or listening to top forty, so I’m not surprised. But these guys are great. I can’t believe we’re up for their account.”

As we come to a stop light I grab my phone in an attempt to Google the band.

“Ah, ah, ah! No texting and driving, sister. Hand over the phone.” Jason plucks it from my grip and I narrow my eyes, both astonished and irritated at his audacity.

“You’re really going to give me shit right now? Tell me, Mr. Jason Moreno, law abiding citizen, what pills did you take last night and did you by chance mix them with alcohol?”

He smirks and shakes his head.

“I don’t know what you are referring to, Kate. I have prescriptions for any and all medications in my possession.” I roll my eyes. Yeah, Mr. Innocent here.

“Whatever. Let’s just get to this meeting and score these ugly guys as clients.” Jason chuckles and focuses on finishing his coffee as I weave my way through traffic.

“No shit.” I swear under my breath and glance about, drinking in the delicious tattooed rockers that fill our humble conference room. There are four of them and not one is ugly. “You’re like the bad boy, wet dream version of Backstreet Boys!”

One band member sitting near the back corner laughs loudly and winks at me before coughing into his arm. I catch a flash of silver from his pierced tongue before he covers his mouth. The three other guys sit glaring, a look of pure disgust on their gorgeous faces.

“We. Are. Not. A. Boy. Band,” one of them enunciates. He holds my eyes with his intense glower. The room remains silent. Oh, shit. I guess I shouldn’t have said that out loud. He stands, stretches his tall, slender build to his full height and swaggers toward me, slow and with purpose. I gulp and lick my lips.

Black skin-tight jeans ride low on his hips and are tucked into his combat boots. A fitted vintage tee gives way to arms covered in tattoos all the way to his fingers. His dirty blond hair is long, the curls hanging about halfway down his neck. His deep green eyes imprison mine from where he stands, resting his hands in his back pockets.

“Who the hell are you?” His eyes travel over my body in a lazy manner. My body warms with pleasure at his perusal despite the harsh tone of his words.

“Kate. Kate Bryant. Nice to meet you…” His eyes crinkle at the corners, and he glances around, making brief eye contact with those in the room before meeting my stare.

“Trent. Trent Donavan. Nice to meet you, Kate.” He offers his hand and I place my own firmly inside. I meet his stare with a confidence I can only conjure. His touch sends a shiver down my spine and I resist the urge to display a reaction. After putting my foot in my mouth I need to salvage this.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean any insult to you or the band. I was just taken aback by the collective sexiness between the four of you. You must really drive your fans wild on stage. I mean, I can only imagine.” I laugh, nervous but aiming to ease the tension that fills the room.

Trent releases my hand and glares.

“So how’d the Three Ugly Guys name come about? You are all obviously great looking.” At my question, a grin pulls at his lips.

“I’m the best looking, so the others are obviously the ugly ones.” He shrugs and holds my gaze with a twinkle in his eyes as the other members pipe up.

“Not a chance in hell. Y’all are some ugly ass motherfuckers.”

“Ha! No way. I’m best.”

“Nada… sorry to say chicks dig the piercings, I’m obviously the best.” They continue arguing and Trent smiles. I inhale sharply. Dear God, he’s beautiful.

“So, you get the gist, right? This is how the band name came about.” His teasing gives hope that I haven’t completely sabotaged this meeting. A smile plays at my lips.

“I can only imagine. It must be difficult working with such sexy beasts. Y’all argue over which one is the baby Jesus of the group?” Trent’s booming laugh silences the room.

“Marc, Steph, you really ought to prep your team before meeting with new clients. Seems like our girl Kate here has never seen us before. I kinda like it, though. Do we get to work directly with her?”

The way he says Kate sends shivers up my arms. Oh, fuck me. These clients will star in my fantasies for weeks to come. Focus, Kate. I need to keep my head clear and on task for the next few hours.

“Yes, Kate here is our Director of Client Relations. She will be your go to for anything and everything.” Thanks Marc. The way he speaks insinuates I’ll be available for more than just professional matters.

“Well, now that the whole team is here, why don’t we go to lunch and talk business. We’re extremely honored to be considered for the upcoming projects and we’d like to hear more about what you’re looking for.”

Steph speaks and brings the band’s attention to where she sits across the table. I step to the side, needing to put space between myself and Trent. The look he gave me earlier reminds me of the Big Bad Wolf and what troubles me is my initial instinct to put on a red hood.

“Okay, then, let’s head out. Kate, you and I will drive.” Marc nods my way.

“I call shotgun!” Trent winks and struts to my side. He meets my gaze with heat. Sex on a stick, that’s what he is. Oh hell. This will either be the best or worst client meeting of my life. I itch for my yoga mat. I already feel a loss of control as this rocker’s eyes bore into mine.

I turn on my heel and take long strides on my way out to the lot. I don’t bother to check if everyone else follows. Fuck. I cannot lose control right now. I’ve worked too hard to get to this place. I channel my breathing techniques and mentally steel myself for the panty melting smiles Trent’s sure to throw my way. I am Kate mother-fucking Bryant. No man can break me.

Clicking my fob to open the car doors, I turn to see the band and owners have made their way outside. I flash my most seductive smile. “Okay, ugly boys, who’s riding with me?”

“YOU AREN’T SLEEPING WITH MY best friend, are you?”

Fuck. Is Evie a mind reader now? I’ve spent the day working side by side with QT on our current case load. All the while attempting, unsuccessfully at that, to get the image of Kate bent over in front of me as I slid in and out of her sweet, wet—oh hell. I’m doing it again. I can’t for the life of me get our night together out of my head.

Living with the damn temptress isn’t helping, either. Catching her practice yoga every morning in her panties has my imagination going wild with all the ways we’d fit together. And it pisses me off that she acts as though nothing ever happened. I mean, I know that’s how we settled things. I knew the score when we crossed the line, but I want more. More than she’s willing or wanting to give. Irritating. I need to man up and get over it already.

I close out of my laptop browser and spin my chair to face Evie. I force a casual grin. “Now, where did you get that crazy idea, QT? Kate and I are more likely to murder each other than go there.” Relief fills her face and her shoulders relax into the chair.

“Oh, good. I don’t know, I guess I always thought there might be something between you two, and now with you living in close quarters… she’s single, you’re single… It’s not so crazy to think it could happen. Besides, Tate has this theory that your anger toward her is just pent up sexual frustration.” She laughs and I try to join in. Of course, Evie’s boyfriend sees past my front. I’ll have to do a better job at leveling out my reactions to Kate.