As she crosses the threshold, she stops and looks back over her shoulder. Licking her lips, she eyes me carefully. Fragile hope is written in every line of tension on her face.

“You can make a run for it while I’m changing clothes if you want. I’ll send the paperwork over tonight either way.”

In response, I plant both feet on the floor and cross my arms over my chest, making it clear that I’m not going anywhere.

She turns away from me, but I catch the smile on her full lips for a split second before she covers it with her fingers as though she’s feeling the uptilt of her mouth in confusion.

She’s only gone a moment before I look around, trying to figure her out.

She’s an enigma wrapped in questions and bow-tied like a present with something equally tempting and terrifying. I see a coffee mug with a picture of Morticia Adams and smile, wondering who gave it to her because it doesn’t seem like something Zoey would buy herself. I see a stack of askew file folders, each with different names on the tabs, letting me know that she’s good at her job and takes it seriously, but I’d already deduced that.

And last but not least, I see a picture of her and a tall, blonde guy. Based on their ages, I think it’s the infamous Jacob. It looks like he’s giving her a noogie, roughing up her hair. She looks murderous at first glance, but the glint in her eyes says it’s all in jest.

When the door opens, she’s wearing jeans, a black tank top, and flat booties. She’s pulled her hair down from its bun, and it curls seductively below her breasts.

I whistle in approval before saying, “You look beautiful, Zo.”

“Thanks, I think.” She seems unaccustomed to getting compliments, but that can’t be true.

Unusual occupation aside, she’s gorgeous and interesting and funny. Did I mention gorgeous?

“Let’s get this over with,” she sighs.

“Just the response I want to hear from a date.”

“Not a date,” she argues formally.

“Paperwork, then. Let’s get that part over with so I can discover more about you.”

“Your funeral, man,” she quotes Alver.

See?

That’s some funny shit, I think as I laugh once more.

Chapter 6

Zoey

You ever watch one of those two AM movies where some out-of-towner walks into the local watering hole, there’s a record scratch, and all eyes turn to the interloper with suspicion?

That’s literally what happens when I walk into the beer barn.