Free The Reasons to Stay (Harlequin Superromance) by Laura Drake

criminal’s promises.
    “Just over here.” She walked five steps, until she stood under the drugstore’s green awning.
    Adam followed, keeping a wary eye on Nacho.
    “I’ll pay you for the magazine. And you can keep it.”
    “That’s not the point.”
    “I know it isn’t.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, so Adam would have to lean in to hear. “But I just got him out of a group home today. His mom died— our mom died—two weeks ago.” She set her face in grieving lines, and looked at him from under her lashes. Tears? No, better not push it. “Just this once, could you give him a break? He’s only ten, and he’s been in that group home since the day we buried our mom. That’s bound to have messed him up, you know?”
    Adam shook his head. “I’m sorry for your loss. Really. But I’ve had a rash of petty thefts, and if it weren’t for Sin, he’d have gotten away with it. I have to make an example of him.”
    She touched his forearm. “I’ll vouch for him. I’ll make him come in through the back door...”
    He jerked his arm away as if she’d pinched it. “He is not living here.”
    His distaste sparked tinder—the dried remnants of every slight that lay scattered in her memory. The behind-the-hand giggles, the “slut spawn” taunts, the smug smile of a blonde girl with a pig nose—they all caught fire in a whoosh.
    Her hands fisted. “Oh, yes. He is.” It came out as the growled warning of a junkyard dog.
    A muscle worked at the side of Adam’s jaw. When he leaned in, Priss was suddenly aware of his size. She felt the brush of his fury on her face. “Oh, no. He isn’t.”
    “Read your lease. It bans pets, not kids.”
    The spasm in his hands told her just when he realized he’d been had. His eyes narrowed to slits. “You lied to me!”
    “You never asked.”
    “It never occurred to me to ask a young woman—”
    “Well, that’s not my fault.” When the storm in his eyes worsened, tornado sirens went off in her mind. She’d pushed too far. Her deep, cleansing breath doused the last flickering flames of her anger. “Look. This is not going to be a problem. I’m home from the bar a half hour after he gets home from school, and—”
    “The bar? ”
    “My job. I’m a bartender at Bar None.”
    Fists clenched, he looked up to the inside of the awning. Priss knew it was a prayer on his part, asking for strength.
    “You have a problem with how I earn your rent money, dude?” She tightened the muscles of her chest and core, attempting to smother the anger flare-up that she couldn’t afford. The battle wouldn’t matter if she lost the war.
    He took a step back, eyes narrowed. “Yes, I have many problems actually. You told me you were in customer service.”
    Ouch. A rare attack of conscience slipped like a shiv between her ribs. “A bartender is a customer service job.”
    He crossed his arms over his chest.
    “Look, I promise you that my brother is not going to be a problem.” She crooked a finger at Nacho who, in spite of his casual perusal of the street, was listening to every word.
    He walked over to Priss immediately.
    She pointed a finger at Adam. “You tell this man that you’re sorry. And that this is never going to happen again.”
    Maybe the kid did have some survival instinct, because he looked up at the pissed-off pharmacist with tears in his eyes. “I’m really sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”
    “Damned right it won’t. I may not be able to evict you but I’m going to be watching.” He studied Nacho as if he were a small, venomous snake. “The only reason I’m not having you arrested is because you just lost your mother.” He shot a glance at Priss, and then back. “But you are not allowed in my store. Understood?”
    “Yes, sir.” Nacho’s voice shook.
    Is this an act? He was either very good or very sorry. Priss intended to find out which, as soon as she got him upstairs.
    “I am not happy about this. But it appears I have no choice.”