Along the walls I hung old pictures of them. They’re young, proud, and obviously in love. I think the place looks great, but Seth might not agree. He might hate everything I’ve done to his grandparents’ shop, but it’s working. We’re in the black and making money, instead of losing it—even while supporting my Jailbirds to Jobs employment nonprofit.

From what Shaw said this morning, Seth is entirely within his rights to sell the place and my home. His home. Whatever. But he also said that he would encourage Seth to sell Gardner’s to me.

Seth’s hot glare makes me take a step back.

Yeah, he’s sooo open to selling this place to me, which sucks, because I feel like Gardner’s is mine. I’ve worked my tail off since I took over, and battled customers and vendors who tried to take advantage of me because I’m a woman and therefore apparently unable to make a decision without a man.

“Can we talk now?” he asks.

“Sure.”

Seth searches the shop. “Privately?”

My eyes grow wide. “Okay,” I say, wary as anything. I really don’t want to be alone with him, but if he’s going to bitch me out, then I’d rather he do it in private. “We can talk in my office.”

“Lead the way,” he says, and then follows me.

The door is already open, but I step to the side to let him in, and close it behind us. Immediately, Seth fills the entire space as he takes off his coat. Despite my best intentions, my mouth runs dry at the sight of him removing such a safe piece of clothing.

“Why in the hell are you employing convicts?” he asks, not bothering with small talk. Honestly, it’s better this way. No need to pretend that we actually have anything to say to each other—at least anything that’s civil. Still, my heart pinches painfully in my chest.

“That’s none of your business,” I snap.

“One, your safety is my business, and two, since I own this place, who you employ is my business as well.”

“Here we go again. First it was the key under the rock and now it’s whom I employ. You don’t have the right to tell me what to do.”

“As the owner I have the right to fire your ass.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “You are such an asshole.”

“I can be,” he says in a voice that gives me pause. “Or I can be very accommodating.”

“Like selling Gardner’s to me?” I ask, wanting to get the issue out of the way.

“Not sure.”

“You can’t run it. You don’t know the difference between a spark plug and a piston.”

He just gives me a look. Yeah, I exaggerated that last accusation a lot. Okay, so I exaggerated completely.

“Okay, fine,” I huff. “But you don’t know the first thing about running a business.”

“True,” he says slowly. “But I thought you could teach me.”

“If you sell the business to me, I wouldn’t have to teach you anything and you could be on your merry way,” I say as sweetly as I can manage without throwing up.

“Where’s the fun in that, Ro?” He brushes back a strand of hair from my face. “How about this: You have less than two weeks to convince me to sell this place to you.”

I laugh. “Like you’d last two minutes in Forrestville.”

“Baby, I last a hell of a lot longer than two minutes.”

“That’s not how I remember it.” Take that, you pompous jerk.

He grins wickedly, undeterred by my insult. “Maybe I should refresh your memory.”

“I’d rather not be traumatized again.” I skirt around him, heading toward my desk. I perch on the edge and begin to swing one leg back and forth to expend some of the nervous energy that’s suddenly appeared.

A dark brow arches. “Never took you for the type to be scared of what a man can give you.” He leans against the door and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Oh, I’m not scared of what a man can give me, but I am disturbed by the thought of a boy playing hit it and quit it.”

“I never played hit it and quit it with you, Rowan.” His chiseled jaw works. “For you to insinuate otherwise doesn’t say much about either of us. Unless that’s how you roll now. Too many boys around here for you, baby?”

Anger and outrage propel me forward. I shove my finger into his chest. “Get out, you asshole.”

Seth doesn’t move. He stares at me with a mixture of astonishment and arrogance. Not easy to pull off, but he does it, and it bugs the hell out of me.

“Didn’t you hear me? Get. Out.” I shove my finger into his chest again, but this time he grabs my wrist, so quickly that it makes my mind whirl. His thumb moves, caressing.

Memories of our last night together, of him pinning me against a brick wall and touching me tenderly, wash over me. I want him to touch me in other places. I want him. Plain and simple. I want Seth, and I hate myself for wanting him. I hate him for making me want him when it’s obvious he still blames me for everything.

I close my eyes and breathe, trying to get a freaking grip on my emotions and my body’s response to him.

“What are you thinking, Rowan?” His voice is raspy and pained, like the words actually hurt as he says them. “Never mind. I know exactly what you’re thinking. You’re thinking about what’s going to happen between us. You’re thinking about all the times I sneaked into your room and fucked you. Or when you’d let me eat that sweet little pussy of yours as long as I wanted.”

Holy crap. When did he become such a dirty talker? My eyes open and I gaze up at him. My body’s on fire from his words, my nipples are hard, and I probably need to go change my panties.

“Would you like it if I did?” he rasps. “Would you like it if I sneaked into your room like I used to do?”

I would love it. What? No. Say it. Tell him to pack his crap and leave. I lick my lips, wishing he would kiss me. Wishing he would bend me over my desk and screw me senseless. “No.”

“Sweet Rowan, you are such a liar.” He touches my cheek, his dark eyes searching my face. “I’m going to ask one more time—give you one more chance to be truthful.” Or else hangs in the air between us. My knees grow weak.

“Would you like it if I fucked you?”

I bite my lip, trying to put off the inevitable, but I know him. Seth will wait as long as it takes. He’s that patient. That drive to outlast whoever or whatever he wants to conquer. That hasn’t changed about him at all.

“Yes,” I say softly.

“And you’d let me eat that sweet pussy for as long as I wanted.”

My whimper betrays me.

“Rowan,” he says gruffly, his head dipping.

“What are you doing?” I ask, pulling back a little.

“What I should have done last night,” he says.

Then he kisses me. Lightly. Sweetly. Barely opening his mouth when all I want to do is devour him. His hands cup my face, thumbs dusting my jaw as he carefully turns my head to one side. Our lips break apart for only a fraction of a second, but it’s long enough for me to glance at him and see the raw hunger in his eyes.

I rise on my toes, slanting my mouth over his, nipping at his lip and silently insisting to be let in. His lips part, and I sweep my tongue inside, curling it around his. Tasting. Remembering.

My body vibrates.

A moan escapes me.

My body shivers again, only I realize it’s not my body at all. It’s his. He’s the one who’s shaking. He’s as vulnerable as I am right now.

“Damn, I missed you.”

I feel his lips along my jaw, his tongue as it traces the shell of my ear, and I tremble when his hot breath hits my skin.

No. I can’t go through this, not even this simple kiss. Okay, this devastating kiss.

“That makes one of us,” I say and he freezes.

“What did you say?”

My heart feels as though he’s just poured acid over it, and tears spring to my eyes. I turn away, unwilling to let him see me so weak. It’s bad enough I allowed myself to kiss him.

“You heard me.”

“Sorry, I don’t speak heartless bitch,” he says.