Stu grinned at Cole. “He’ll ignore that, Steely. I know him too well.” Cole barely responded with a mysterious smile and a half shrug. “And will it be the fair . . .” Stu frowned. “Fuck, what’s her name? Jessica, is it?”

I immediately wanted to bury my head in my files. I really didn’t want to know anything about the fair Jessica, but Cole stopped me from turning away by flicking an enigmatic look at me before answering.

“Nah.” He glanced back at Stu. “Broke up.”

I stopped breathing.

“Ah, and what happened this time?”

“You’re a nosy bugger,” Steely ribbed his friend.

Stu ignored him. “Well?”

“She started redecorating my flat in her head after only two weeks of dating.”

Stu shuddered. “Cling-on.”

“Oh God, yeah.”

Cole’s pained expression stayed painted across my mind’s eye as I bent my head and started pulling out the files I’d last been working on. I still hadn’t come anywhere near to finishing the digitization of them. As I began to work, all the warm and fuzzy feelings I’d been afraid to admit to developing since Cole called a truce for the day dissipated upon new evidence that Cole really and truly was the kind of bad boy I needed to avoid.

I felt sorry for Jessica.

She’d probably only suggested Cole get some cushions for his sofa or something, and he’d misinterpreted it as a threat to his bachelorhood.

Arse.

I lifted my head to wave Stu and Steely a temporary good-bye as they disappeared into the back to get to work on Steely’s new tattoo, and then I looked back down at the files.

But I could feel Cole’s gaze on me.

Steadying my nerves, I looked up at him and somehow I managed to unstick the words blocked in my throat. “Thank you.”

Cole’s lips twitched with amusement. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“I still don’t like you.”

The humor left his eyes. “The feeling is mutual.” He shook his head, his expression unreadable now. “You really are the biggest disappointment, Shannon MacLeod.”

Without another word he followed our boss into the back, leaving me reeling.

His words had almost sounded . . . sad.

*   *   *

At that point I’d really thought the worst was over for the day. Cole and I had put on a united front and Stu seemed happy enough. However, I was wrong.

I knew I was wrong when Stu showed Steely out after he’d finished the tattoo and then turned to me once the door shut behind his friend. He scrutinized me in a way that made me squirm as I scanned photographs of a guy’s tattoo Stu had done fifteen years ago. It was of a muscled naked chick riding a motorbike toward the gates of hell. It was disturbing, but the artwork was awesome.

“Glad to hear you’re getting on so well here, Shannon.”

Was that a question? It sounded like a question.

I tensed.

“Yeah, it’s going great.” Cole suddenly appeared and walked toward me.

Weirdly, I’d never been happier to see him.

Stu looked at us both and then nodded. “Great. Glad to hear it. So I’ll see you at Cole’s birthday party, then?”

Birthday party?

Say what?

Panic. Yes, that was definitely panic causing my heart to do that horrible fluttery thing in my chest. “Uh—”

Cole reached me and slid his arm along my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I tried my best not to stiffen, in fact allowing myself to relax into him. I flushed, feeling his lean, hard body pressing into my soft one.

My head barely reached his shoulder.

I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him, I chanted in my head to remind myself as I quickly grew heated and turned on.

“Of course she’ll be there.” Cole gave me a squeeze and my left boob was crushed against his chest.

Oh boy.

I tried for a grin, but I was pretty sure it came out tremulous because Stu got this suspicious look on his face. However, the suspicion melted into a gleam of delight that quickly made me realize he’d gotten the wrong impression about what was going on between Cole and me.

“Oh.” He nodded and tapped a finger against his nose. “I got you.”

No, he did not get us! He did not get us at all.

“Have fun, kiddies.” He laughed and threw open the entrance door. “See you soon!”

The minute Stu was out of sight of the front windows, I wrenched away from Cole’s embrace, my hands flying to my hips. “Birthday party?”

Looking beleaguered, Cole nodded. “My friend Hannah is on maternity leave. She’s bored. Extremely bored. I am not telling my bored, pregnant best friend that she can’t throw me a birthday party no matter how much I don’t need that shit right now.”

There was a lot in that sentence I did not want to deal with. “I don’t think I should go.”

“That’s entirely up to you, but Stu will be there and he’ll wonder why you’re not there since the two of us get on so well. Everyone I know will be there.”

I growled in frustration.

Cole raised an eyebrow at my reaction. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s not likely that we’ll cross paths at this thing. I’ll barely even know you’re there.”

And once more the irritant walked away with the last word!

CHAPTER 7

T he room was naturally dark since it was a basement room, but warm lighting had been placed in alcoves all around and rugs covered the flagstone floors. To the left of the bar situated in the back of the room were two long tables with enough buffet food to feed a small family for a good couple of weeks. Booths were situated around the edges of the room, and people had already laid claim to most of them.

There were no balloons, no banners, nothing but a birthday cake to suggest this was indeed a birthday party, which told me that Hannah knew her best friend quite well.

“Why am I here again?” I said to Rae.

Somehow despite protesting against it for days, I was standing next to Rae and Mike in the entrance to the basement bar that was part of a split-level nightclub called Fire. The basement had been turned into a private function suite for Cole’s party, organized by his friend Hannah, and hosted by the owner of the club, Braden Carmichael. And yup, Rae told me that Braden was J. B. Carmichael’s husband.

“Because you look hot and it’ll annoy the fuck out of Cole and greatly entertain me,” Rae said, leaning into Mike’s side.

I pulled a face at her, but secretly I was pleased by her compliment. It made no sense, but I wanted to look my best tonight.

As always my hair was down, but I’d taken special care to make sure it was soft and not wild. I was wearing a black figure-hugging short dress, black stockings, and black suede ankle boots with a thin silver heel. No accessories. My makeup was fresh and light—my lipstick, eye shadow, and nail polish peach because it was a color that worked nicely against my skin tone and hair.

Since the dress was short and the heels were high, my legs looked longer. Wearing no jewelry and no color meant that the dress and my hair were doing all the work tonight.

Tony waved from across the room, just this mere action drawing gazes my way. He strolled toward us in another beautifully fit suit, his hand clasped in Simon’s. Simon wore dark jeans and a white T-shirt with a Banksy print on it. As soon as Tony reached me I received a kiss on either cheek. When he stepped back his eyes raked over me with a thoroughness you’d expect from a straight guy. “You look bellissima,” he murmured throatily.

Seriously, the guy oozed sexual charisma.

The strangers beyond him were looking at us again, and as I scanned the group I halted on a familiar face. Cole. I flushed and turned my attention back to Tony, murmuring my thanks.