"I like your place."

  He gave me a nod. "It was mine and my brother's for when we were in the city or stopping through. But it’s mine now."

  I frowned at his word choice. "You said it was yours and your brother's."

  He licked his bottom lip. "He died. Five years ago."

  I winced. "Shit, I'm so sorry."

  "It's all right. I guess. That's supposedly the right response you're supposed to give people. I miss him every day."

  "It must have been a special relationship for you guys to be able to share a place together."

  He shrugged. "Yeah. Charlie was the best."

  "Lachlan and Charlie?"

  He shook his head laughing. "Lachlan and Charleston. If you can imagine that."

  "Oh my God, your parents."

  "Oh yes, just as pretentious as you would believe they would be." He indicated the bathroom. "Just through there. I'll grab the first aid kit and meet you there."

  "You don't have to do all this. I'm fine."

  "You keep saying that. I’ll determine if you’re okay. Did you hear from your mate?"

  "I love that you know Tabs already. She texted back. She said she will sever you from your balls if you hurt me."

  "Of that, I have little doubt."

  His bathroom was the sort of thing you saw in Architectural Digest. Clean and modern. But instead of the proverbial white that was the style of all modern bathrooms these days, it was all black and grays, and the effect was gorgeous. He had one of those sauna steam showers, and all I wanted to do was jump in.

  The floor was that wood looking tile, ceramic, I think. It was beautiful. The backsplash was all shimmering browns and golds with a really ornate enormous mirror. When he joined me, he indicated the chair at the vanity. "Take a seat."

  "This is ridiculous. I'm fine."

  He also had a T-shirt he offered. "Something to change into. You probably got some blood on yours."

  I glanced down at my top which was mostly a shimmering metallic panel on the front and some strings. The top was entirely backless, and once I let go, my breasts would be screaming for freedom. The top was free of blood, but it would be nice to cover up a little more. I was too exposed.

  "Thank you."

  "All right, let's see about this." He grabbed the alcohol and the iodine and made a quick work of starting to clean me up.

  I hissed and jerked back when the alcohol touched my skin. "Ow."

  "Sorry. No one told you to be a badass today."

  "I'm basically a badass every day."

  His smile was soft. "I don't doubt it. Your mate said that you were celebrating tonight. What were you celebrating?"

  I gave him a sheepish smile. "It's my birthday."

  "No shit. Well this is bad. I didn't even get to wish you a happy birthday properly. You need cake."

  "No, I don't."

  "My mum always said a birthday is not a birthday without a cake. I think we can get some ordered."

  I shook my head. "That's really un—"

  He already had his phone out and was texting. "The cake will be here in ten minutes. There's a bakery down the way. They're on one of my food service apps."

  "Well, isn't that convenient?"

  "They're certainly handy. You didn't want to celebrate with your family?"

  It was my turn to go somber. "My parents died two years ago."

  He cursed under his breath as he put the remnants of the gauze and bandages away. "Fuck."

  "Yeah, fuck."

  "What happened?"

  I chose the cover story. “Plane crash.”

  He winced. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

  I left out the part about how there had been a bomb on that plane specifically designed to kill them and only them. The madman had figured out who they were and took them from me deliberately. Intentionally.

  I also left out the part about having full intentions of finding that madman one day and annihilating him off the face of the earth. Those were the kinds of things you didn't say to a stranger.

  "Did they do anything for your birthday when you were little?"

  I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, there were two things we always did. Dad always made sure that for my birthday, he would teach me a new skill. Something he expected me to master by my next birthday. Sometimes there was a puzzle. Sometimes it was a martial arts thing. Sometimes it was learning to play a really complicated song. He always said an Abott should be multitalented. He was the best. And Mum she always shared a journal entry she’d written for me when I was a baby. Sometimes they were silly, sometimes they were poignant. But we’d snuggle in bed first thing in the morning and she’d read it to me. I guess she started it when she was pregnant with me."

  "You guys were close then?"

  I nodded. "Yeah. I get the sense when I wake up sometimes that I can almost hear them."

  He nodded. "That happens to me all the time with Charlie. Especially being here. I can’t count the number of times I could swear any moment I would walk out into the kitchen and he'd be standing there doing a proper English fry up. He loved a fry up.”

  "How did your parents take it?"

  "The same way that they usually do. Distanced themselves. Became detached."

  "So, what are we going to do while we wait for the cake?"

  "You tell me," I said, my voice husky.

  "I have a great puzzle."

  "A puzzle?" Had I heard him right?

  “If you were some other woman, I would go into lewd detail about all of the dirty things I could do to you.”

  The gut punch robbed me of air. “Oh,” I said, ducking my head.

  He used a finger to lift my chin up and force me to meet his gaze. “But because you’re you and have me so twisted in knots my hands are shaking with the need to touch you, I’ll keep all my dirty fantasies to myself… for now.”

  Chapter Eight

  Saffron

  An hour later, I winced at the clock. "I should go."

  He stood immediately. "Where are you going?"

  "I don't know. I feel like I should just go."

  I didn't want to. Which was part of the problem. He was smart. And funny. And I liked him, but I was not the hookup kind. Besides, if I didn't turn up at Tabatha's, Gabe was going to lose his shit. "I just have to go."

  "Just stay a little longer. You haven't even finished your cake."

  "You're right. And it is a good cake."

  "Yeah, it is."

  The truth of it was, I couldn't think of a good enough reason to stay other than I could see the danger here. The danger for me. The way he watched me with intensity. I could feel his gaze on me with every step I took. The way he made the hairs on my arm stand up… I wanted more of that. I wanted more of him. I wanted his attention on me. I had dismissed him at first as a carefree playboy. But he was more than that. The more he talked about his brother, the more I was able to talk about my parents. And he listened. He offered no reproach. Just listened.

  "Finish your cake. Then I'll walk you back to your mate's place. You said she's near here, right?"

  I nodded. "You've already done too much.”

  “It's your fucking birthday. You should celebrate."

  "You know I can't finish the rest of this, right?"

  "What about another fork? We can share a fork, or maybe I can just lick the frosting and you eat the cake."

  I stared at him. "Eww."

  "Oh, come on. I don't—”

  “Uh-uh, no, we're not doing that."

  "Come on,” he said, laughing.

  "Licking frosting is like sharing toothbrush."

  He laughed. "You mean to tell me you've never shared your toothbrush with someone you're dating?"

  I shuddered. "No. I tend not to have relationships that last that long. But also, ewww."

  He laughed. "Oh, come on. You're putting toothpaste on the brush, right? So it's already getting clean."

  I shook my head. "No. No, no, no."

  He just laughed. "I’ve got a toothbrush in there that you should use to brush your teeth before you go."

  I shuddered. "No. Gross."

  I knew he was fucking with me.

  He relented and stood up and got himself another fork before joining me on the couch.

  "Which birthday is this?"

  "Twenty-two. In the States, that would have some big significant meaning. Not too much here."

  He laughed. "Right. But it's still your birthday. You should still do something to celebrate."

  "My brother will pull some family dinner on me tomorrow. There will be more cake. Although, he never seems to listen when I tell him that I'm not twelve and I don't want an ice cream cake anymore."

  "What’s wrong with ice cream cake?”

  "I don't know. They're great sometimes, but I can't eat a whole one."

  "Well, it's your birthday, so you should have whatever kind of cake you want."

  "Agreed." I scooped up another forkful of cake.

  "So what's your brother like? Do you still live with him?"

  I nodded. "He is overprotective." It was the nicest word I could think of.

  "If you were my sister, I probably wouldn't let you out of the house either."

  I rolled my eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  He laughed and then leaned back on the sofa, one arm casually placed against the back edge. "Besides you being well fit? And men being twats?”

  "Whatever the hell that means."

  "Oh, come on, you must know."

  I shrugged. "Know what?"

  He eyed me up and down. "You're clearly a stunner."

  I shrugged. “I don’t feel like one.”

  "What do you mean? Other blokes you're dealing with must be blind."

  I laughed. "You are very good for the ego, Mr. King."

  "I have eyeballs. My eyesight is not compromised.”

  "Yes, I see you do. And they are a very pretty color."

  "Hold on. It's your birthday. I give you the compliments."

  "By all means, please do." I laughed.

  He studied me then. "You're taking the piss, right?"

  "About what?"

  "About blokes not fancying you."

  "I didn't say that. But the blokes that fancy me, most of them can't seem to take not being fancied back. For the last two years I've been in the haze of grief and school. I haven't really had time to focus on anything like relationships, so I don't really date much."

  "That’s bullshit."

  "Are you hitting on me, Mr. King?"

  He nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, a hundred percent."

  His honesty made me laugh. "I'm not your type. I promise you."

  His gaze narrowed. "And pray tell, what is my type?"

  Shit. I cleared my throat. "Look, you are obviously, uh, very attractive."

  He lifted a brow. "Oh, I like where this is going. Keep talking."

  "The way you zeroed in on me at the club, you don't ever have to approach someone. But the ones who intrigue you aren’t the ones that are more obvious. And you clearly like a challenge.”

  He cocked his head and smiled. “You stared first.”

  When I stuck my tongue out at him, he continued. “Suffice it to say you're beautiful, smart, and you have this hidden quality to you. A part you keep far away from everyone else. You don't show it, but I could see it. The moment our eyes met, I could feel it. I think you sell yourself short. You are impossible to look away from. Most women I know act coy and turn away. But you… You made me work. You don't look away. You don’t hide from hard things. That's exceptionally sexy. You are clearly clever, and you can kick arse with the best of them. You don't see yourself clearly enough because you're comparing yourself to Tabs. Is she beautiful? A hundred percent. But what you see is what you get. She's open. You are an untapped well of emotions. More complex."

  The way he was looking at me made my skin prickle as the heat radiated from my body. "I don't do hookups,” I blurted. “I need to know someone. Like them. Trust them." Christ. I was so nervous my mouth was running away from me.

  "Who says I’m looking for a hookup?" His voice was low, husky, and tempting.

  “I am here in your flat. You didn’t kill me yet, so…"

  He sighed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "You are beautiful. Like I said, I like to work for things. Everyone assumes that I want things easy. I don't. My whole life, people have given me things without giving me the opportunity to work for them."

  "You want to work for me?"

  "I'd like a shot," he said with a smirk. “And to start, that means I can’t assume. So I’m good with some work.”

  I swallowed hard, studying him. "People do that a lot, don't they?"

  "What's that?" he asked.

  "Underestimate you."

  "Tell me if you want to go, and I will take you to your mate. Do I want you to stay? Yes. Do I want you? Undoubtedly. Do I want to work for your trust? Yes, I think I like it better that way.”

  Oh boy, I was so dead. Men like him were dangerous, because with the intensity of his gaze, the way he was watching me, I believed him. Or at least I wanted to believe him. Every instinct told me he was telling me the truth. Which worried me because I already wanted him.

  What’s wrong with that?

  "So who are you? What makes you tick?"

  He licked his lips. "Oh no, you don’t. This is your birthday. We are focusing on you.” He jumped up. "Come with me."

  "What are you doing?"

  "Oh, just come here." He walked me over to a bureau just to the right of his kitchen, pressed buttons on the keypad, and the door slid back, revealing a massive entertainment system. One of the shelves slid out and an actual honest-to-God record player slid out.

  I laughed. "Of course, you've got a record player."

  He rolled his eyes. "You're missing out."

  On the bottom were rows of albums. When I looked down, I saw that there was an intricate shelving system, album after album, and I laughed. "I see a lot of rock classics here."

  He grinned. "Yes, but my favorite is Stevie Wonder. Do you like Stevie?"

  "He’s classic. ‘Superstitious’ is bloody brilliant. You must love music."

  He took my hand and twirled me. "We, my dear, are going to finish our dance we started at the club."

  I laughed. "You can't be serious."

  "Come on." He pulled the Stevie Wonder album out of its sleeve and placed it on the record player. And as Stevie's voice rang clear, Lachlan King held out his hand. "Come on, are you going to have a little fun on your birthday or not?"

  "Who are you?"

  "Lachlan. We met at the club? Try and keep up."

  I laughed. I knew he couldn't know my mother had loved Stevie. So much so that it was my middle name. I didn't tell Lachlan that though. Instead, I stared down at his hand.

  "It's your birthday. You deserve to dance on your birthday."

  "You are correct, Mr. King."

  "I hope you know that every time you say it like that it sounds just a little bit dirty."

  "What? No. I'm not being dirty."

  He laughed. "A little bit. It's how you say it. I don't know what to tell you. You are sexualizing me, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.” His voice took on a husky note.

  I coughed a laugh. "Oh my God, you're impossible."

  "Well, I just call it like I see it."

  I rolled my eyes. "Maybe this is how you lure all the women. Bring them up here, play them a little Stevie Wonder, dance in the living room with them. Perfect date situation. Is this what you call work? You're going to have to do better than this,” I teased.

  "No other women. This is my sanctuary. Besides, Charlie and I had a rule. No randoms in the flat, because randoms tended to want to come back for more. And once he had this girl who stalked him. She came to the house because he hadn't called."

  I laughed. "Oh no."

  "Oh yes. My mother had a lot to say about that. So when we moved in together here, we made a rule. No randoms."

  "Am I random?"

  "Absolutely not. You are the kind of girl who makes me work. Hence, not a random."

  "Smooth, Mr. King, very smooth."

  "Now, Miss Abott, take my hand."

  And I did. He was warm and solid. For the first time in too long, I trusted someone. It was that easy.

  “Now be a good girl and tell me how you like to be touched.”

  Chapter Nine

  Saffron

  I should get up to leave. I should. After dancing and laughing and being fed, not only did I feel completely cared for in a way that was odd and strange from a perfect stranger, I knew I liked it. Which was problematic at best, and it wasn't like I could keep it. There was no worry or doubt that could happen. This was a distinctly temporary arrangement, so I needed to get up and go.

  It doesn't have to be temporary.

  I thought of Gabe going all big brother on him. Where is your family? Where did you come from? What are your financials? All of those things that would scare off anyone.

  There was no way. Lock was exactly the kind of bloke who would not pass muster. Besides, tonight was a perfect night. It was the kind of night that you wished and hoped for, but I needed to get back to Tabs.

  What if for once, you didn't talk yourself out of something amazing? What if for once you stayed?

  I couldn't. It was too complicated.

  Or maybe you're scared to stay. Scared of loving someone and losing them again?

  Oooh, my self-awareness was on the warpath today.

  "You want to leave." He sighed.

  I froze and then turned in Lock's arms, the warmth of them surrounding me. His clean pine scent enveloped me, tempting me to stay where I was.

  We'd fallen asleep on the couch watching Luther. And it had been the most perfect night.

  "You've done enough. You cheered me up and provided first aid. I should go."

  His gaze searched mine, and I could feel the erratic thumping of his heart beneath my hand.

  "If you want to go, let’s go. I’ll walk you. Better yet, maybe a cab. How far is it?"