Free HellKat by Robyn Roze Page A

walking you home.”
    His implacable don’t-fight-me look shut down her instinct to argue. Just as well, the fight had left her anyway, for now.

 

    His damn victory grin hovered above her, crowded out the line of lunch-goers at the sushi bar across from her table. Jesus, he was exasperating. Because of Tucker, she’d had to use concealer this morning to hide the dark circles under her eyes from the complete lack of sleep last night. She’d been helpless to turn off his voice in her head, everything he’d said outside her apartment, at the diner, and the first time they’d met. Not to mention their never-to-be-forgotten one-nighter.
    She’d thought of nothing else after she’d waved goodnight to him from her living room window three flights up. He’d insisted on waiting below after walking her home. Wanted to make sure she made it in safely before he would leave. And to top it off, he’d asked to see her cell phone after she’d taken a quick call from Grant on the walk back to her place, at which time he added his number and summarily deleted Grant’s.
    “So, you’re a confirmed stalker now, huh? Followed me here and even had the nerve to sit right over there,” Kat pointed without looking away from him, “where you knew I could see you, so you could make sure I’d go through with it. Or pressure me to go through with it, is more like it.”
    Tucker pulled out a chair and sat across from his feisty hellcat.
    “Oh, I couldn’t pressure you to do anything you didn’t already want to do, sweetheart.” His eyes were full of devilment. “Have any time left on the clock? Or do you need to get back to work?”
    “You don’t waste a second, do you? I literally just broke up with a great guy— minutes ago —and here you are ready to step right in like it never happened—like you didn’t watch it happen.”
    The edges of Tucker’s rugged features softened.
    “I’m sure he didn’t like hearin’ it, and I wouldn’t want to trade places with him. But I can’t lie; I’m damn glad he’s outta my way.” He cocked his head and leaned across the table. “And I’m not interested in wasting any more time. I’ve already waited six months. I’m ready to see where this goes.”
    “You’ve waited six months?”
    “Yeah. I was hopin’ that’d be enough time for you to be able to listen, talk. Not want to shoot me on sight. Now I just want to get started, spend time with you, get to know you.”
    She flopped back against her seat and reviewed the muddled game plan in her head.
    What if this did work out …?
    She scrutinized him, tried to reconcile him sitting across from her in the flesh, not in a fantasy. Tried her best not to think about the black T-shirt hugging his body, the faded jeans incapable of hiding his perfect ass. Or the rebellious blond strand of hair curved along his square jaw, hair she remembered seeing, feeling on her skin, wild and free …
    Tucker’s chin dipped in recognition, and he gently bumped her knee with the inside of his.
    “You all right, sweetheart?” The knowing expression on his face said he’d read her.
    She refocused on the decision she’d struggled with last night. Despite the reality of their differences and their bad start, she’d chosen to give him a do-over. However, she wasn’t about to make penance easy for the man.
    Tucker was right. This would be fun.
    She’d make sure of it.
    “Do you like the opera, Tucker?” His mouth dropped open, but he didn’t speak. Oh, he wanted to, she could tell. Kat chewed at the inside of her cheek, did her best to hold back the grin wanting to break across her face. “Ever been to the Met?” He shook his head, slowly. “What a shame. We need to fix that as soon as possible.” She teased him with a wink.
    “You don’t have any problem renting a tux, right?”
    He cleared his throat. “Not at all.”
    Kat’s eyes narrowed. “Just to be clear: black jeans and a sport coat aren’t considered a tux here.” He bit