Page 8 of Total Abandon

My brows shoot to my hairline and despite myself, I let out a bark of a laugh. “Do you just say the first thing that springs to mind half the time?”

She beams and it feels like I’ve been kicked in the chest by a horse. Her pearly white teeth flash widely at me, lighting her whole face up. Her eyes sparkle the clearest blue and she looks fuckingethereal. I have to fight very hard to maintain my outward composure. What the fuck is happening to me? I’m not this guy.

“If you met my family, it would all make sense. We Devlins are very free with our words.” She snickers, shaking her head. “I’m actually the sanest of the lot, which is saying something, considering I came in here to ask for time off for therapy.”

I flatten my lips, not liking that she just degraded herself, even as a joke. “I’ll look into it, but in the meantime, take this.” I slide my top drawer open and hover my hand over the two neatly stacked piles of cards. One is grey, subtly embossed, and houses my work mobile number. The other… I pluck out the black matte card with my personal phone number on it. Holding it out to her between two fingers, I watch as she walks forward and takes it curiously from me. Our fingers brush for the briefest second, sending a zap of heat up my arm. I’m selective with handing out both, but I can count on one hand the number of people in this city who have that black card, and yet here I am, handing it off to her like it means nothing.

“If you can’t find Smith, call me, and I’ll sign off on them for you.” My voice is thick, gravelly even to my own ears.

She swallows audibly and nods, making me wonder if she feels it too—that crackling tension hanging in the air like electricity. Fuck, I need to get laid. If simple hand touches and charged looks have my dick this hard, it’s been too long.

“I didn’t…” She shakes her head slightly. “I didn’t realize you were…that you had a child,” she settles on after a moment's hesitation.

“It surprises you that I keep my life private?” I tilt my head, scrutinizing every soft line of her beautiful face.

“No, it’s not that. You just don’t seem the fatherly type.” She lifts one shoulder, almost apologetically.

I chuckle, enjoying the way the bridge of her nose flushes alongside her cheeks, throwing those soft hazelnut freckles into stark relief. “Strong words for a woman who just booped my son's nose like a dog,” I retort dryly.

“Cute is cute. I don’t discriminate between species. I’d even boop your nose if you ever looked that cute.” She sniffs haughtily, but I can see a sliver of a smile tugging at her full lips.

I roll my eyes and snap my drawer shut. I’ve been called a lot of things, but cute is not one of them. Likely never will be.

Chapter 5

Chloe:So, this woman on the TV. Are we talking hot weather girl, or Scarlett Johansson?

Zeke:I gave you my number for work purposes.

Chloe:Sure, sure. Just need to know who I need to track down and kill. Professionally speaking.

Zeke:Considering going back to your old axe murderer ways?

Chloe:Mirror mirror on the wall, I SHALL be the prettiest of them all. Professionally speaking.

Zeke:You know that putting “professionally speaking” at the end of your messages doesn’t make them work appropriate, right?

CHLOE

“Did you bang him yet?” Tilly shouts from behind the mouthful of hotdog she’s just stuffed into her pie hole.

“Like I really needed to count your fillings today, Till,” I snipe, gripping the edge of my blue plastic seat. We’re about to head into the bottom of the ninth inning and we’re neck and neck. We’ve got one man on double, and Jackson Straite has just stepped up to bat.

“I don’t have fillings, thank you. I take my dental hygiene very seriously.” Tilly scoffs, wiping her hands off on a mustard smeared napkin.

“Yeah, I can tell by the way you just annihilated a family sized bucket of caramel popcorn.” I snort, biting down on my lip as I see Straite stretching out in front of the cage. I tap two fingers against the peak of my Yankees cap in a silent tribute to the baseball gods. An age-old superstitious habit I’ve picked up from my dad and he picked up from his father.

“Come on, Jax!” an enormous guy a couple of rows down roars as he stands, big enough that he blocks our view, even though I rise from my seat.

“Hey, Sasquatch. Sit the fuck down!” I yell, grinding my teeth.

The man twists, flashing a white smile at me from an unarguably handsome face: dark hair, warm brown eyes, and sun-kissed skin. “My feetarepretty big, but not as big as my—” The cocky guy is cut off as the petite brunette beside him clips him on the ear. “Ouch, Mia!” he grumbles loud enough for us to hear, swatting her hand away. “If Straite hits this out of the park, I’ll buy you a drink!” he hollers back with a wink.

Another big guy next to him with deeply tanned skin and hazel eyes turns and holds up his hand in apology. I laugh at the pained expression on his face and shrug easily.

“Yeesh, why have I been wasting my time on Tinder? I should have let you drag me here years ago—total sausage fest,” Tilly announces, eyeing the cocky guy with a hungry gleam in her eye.

“Down, girl. Plenty of time for that after we win.” My eyes are back on Straite, who is winding his bat in preparation. The ball flies for him quicker than my eyes can register, and Straite knocks it straight out of the ballpark.