“I suppose.” She exhaled and then grinned widely, holding out her hand. “Let’s wager. Whoever comes back with the best story springs for takeout.”
“You’re on.”
He snatched another handful of candies from the dish, grinned at her mock scowl, and stood to leave.
“Hey, Stone! What happens in Vegas ...better make a damn good story.”
His deep, rich laugh echoed all the way to the elevator.
Bree sighed and made her way over to Toni’s desk. Toni’s eyes were still peeled on the now-closed elevator doors, frozen in silent feminine appreciation.
“I swear, that man gets finer every day,” she said with a sigh, turning to Bree.
“If you say so,” Bree agreed.
Hunter was Hollywood handsome, charming and polished, but unlike Toni, Bree was drawn to guys who were less perfect and more like her—aka slightly damaged. Perhaps that was why she was approaching thirty and had yet to feel a special connection with anyone.
“Trust me, he’s been working out, and believe me, beneath the tailored suits, he’s packing.”
“TMI, coz. TMI.”
Toni sat back and gave Bree her full, undivided attention. “When was the last time you had a screaming O anyway?”
Bree opened her mouth to answer.
“And not one you gave yourself.”
Bree clamped her lips shut and said, “None of your business.”
“That long, huh? Rosa’s cousin Tomas is flying out to LA next week. Maybe we could—”
“No.”
“You thought he was hot when I showed you his picture.”
“I just said that to not hurt your feelings.”
“It’s not like you have to marry him or anything. Just let him take you to dinner and remind you that real men are better than battery-operated ones.”
“So, what you’re saying is, Dick is better than BOB.”
“Every damn time,” Toni said with conviction.
Clearly, Toni had had better experiences than Bree had if she believed that. But she was feeling rather restless, and if the photo was accurate, Tomas was smacked together pretty well.
“Let’s leave it at a firm maybe. Right now, I’ve got to get my butt on a plane.”
“Where are you going?”
“Sumneyville, Pennsylvania. Charlie wants me to stay a week, but I can’t imagine it taking that long.”
Toni’s fingers tapped away at the wireless keyboard in front of her. “That’s near the Poconos. Beautiful area. If you finish up early, you can do something fun, maybe go hiking or boating.”
“Have you met me?” Bree asked, smirking.
“Right. Well, New York City is only a couple hours away. You could hit up Fifth Avenue and do some shopping or ...” Toni realized what she was suggesting and backpedaled. The day they’d left, Bree had sworn never to step foot in the city again. “Scratch that. I’m sure you’ll find something to keep you occupied. Who knows? Maybe you’ll even meet the man of your dreams.”
Bree laughed. “Yeah, sure I will.”
Chapter Two
Cage
“Pizza,” Nick “Cage” Fumanti replied firmly and without hesitation. “New York style.”
He and his partners—Hugh “Heff” Bradley, Steve “Smoke” Tannen, Cole “Doc” Watson, Chris “Mad Dog” Sheppard, and Matt “Church” Winston—lingered in the Sanctuary dining room after breakfast, as requested by Kate.
Kate Handelmann, their newest addition and head chef-slash-cooking goddess of Sanctuary kitchen, scribbled into the notebook in front of her as they offered meal suggestions. Everything Kate made was good, and they weren’t picky, but she looked so earnest that he felt the need to say something.
“Old Forge style’s better,” Heff drawled. He leaned back and wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s shoulders.
“What the hell is that?” asked Smoke in a deep, growly voice.
“It’s phenomenal. Rectangular instead of circular. Comes in trays, not pies. Light, thick, fluffy, crisp, deep-fried flavor with lots of onions and cheese ...”
Smoke snorted.
“Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. It’s orgasmic. And you know how fond I am of orgasms.” Heff grinned wickedly at Sandy, making her cheeks flush.
“I can do both,” Kate said, nodding, ignoring Heff like a seasoned pro. “Maybe a calzone, too. I’ve been wanting to try one of those.”
“Is it any wonder I love this woman?” Mad Dog murmured.
If there were such things as soul mates, then Kate was definitely Mad Dog’s. Just as Sam was Smoke’s and Sandy was Heff’s.
Cage wondered absently if he would ever find someone to put a dopey smile on his face like that, then pushed that thought away. It wasn’t likely, especially since he wasn’t looking. Nor did he want to. He was content with his life, just the way it was—peaceful, rewarding, and surrounded by good friends who didn’t meddle and appreciated his obsession with digital toys.
That reminded him; he needed to drive down to Pine Ridge and pick up the sweet new components Ian Callaghan had set aside for him. Now that Mad Dog and Kate were off nesting in their own cabin, Doc had moved into Mad Dog’s trailer, and Cage had the place all to himself. He was well on his way to filling every last inch of it with sexy custom tech.
“Thanks, guys,” Kate said, closing her notebook. “Great ideas. I’m going to make a list and talk to Sam about placing an order.”
Kate pressed a quick kiss to Mad Dog’s cheek and scampered away. Mad Dog watched her go, his expression morphing from adoration to concern.
“What’s going on?” Doc asked. “Kate seems off today.”
“Maybe Mad Dog isn’t satisfying his woman.” Heff smirked, earning a scathing glance from Mad Dog.
“I’m satisfying my woman just fine.”
“Luther and Kylie publicly announced a date,” Sandy explained. “They’re tying the knot next month.”
Cage grimaced, feeling a pang of sympathy for Kate.
Luther Renninger was Kate’s ex, a sneaky little weasel who had “invested” thousands of dollars from local businesses in shady funds and was currently being investigated by the IRS.
And Kylie was Kate’s younger sister. Despite the fact that Kate’s family’s business was one of those Luther had “borrowed” money from, her family had stood staunchly by the weasel—and turned their backs on Kate in the process.
Now, Kate was living at Sanctuary with Mad Dog and hadn’t seen or spoken with her family for months. For someone with a heart as big as Kate’s, who’d put her family first for years, it was a hard pill to swallow.
“Next month? That’s fast,” Doc mused aloud. “They just announced their engagement a few weeks ago, right? Think he’s trying to protect his assets before the IRS takes everything?”
Cage shook his head. “Doesn’t work that way.”
Heff sat back, looking amused. “My guess is, there’s at least one shotgun involved.”
Mad Dog’s scowl deepened, which suggested that Kate was probably thinking in a similar line. Criminal activities aside, Renninger was a narcissist and a playboy—not exactly a father figure or paragon of family values.