“First of all,” she started, even as the adult in her brain told her not to encourage him, to just ignore him until he gave up and left, “I saw you only three days ago, when I grabbed that bail jumper from the hardware store.”

“The one I tracked down? The one you stole while I was in the bathroom? That bail jumper?”

Ignoring his—accurate—comment, she continued. “Second, we’re not friends, so there will be no sharing of any kind. Third, please go away.”

She did her best to keep her gaze forward, but it was like her eyes had a mind of their own. In her peripheral vision, she saw him clutch at his chest dramatically. “How can you say we’re not friends? We share all the time. Skips, jokes…we’re even sharing a park bench right now. We’re sharers, Pax. That’s what we do.”

“No, that’s not what we do.” Quit encouraging him, the smart part of her brain warned.

“We should share an office,” he continued, proving she shouldn’t have said anything. “I don’t know why you’re fighting this so hard. We would be incredible together. A dream team, you might say.”

Losing the battle over her self-control, she turned her head to look. Instantly, she regretted it when her brain went blank at the sight of him. As annoying as he could be, even she had to admit that he was a beautiful, beautiful man. Tearing her gaze from his amused face, she scowled hard at the ice cream shop across the street, trying to regain her composure—and her ability to speak. “One of us would be dead within a week. The other would be in jail for murder.”

“But think how much fun that first week would be. Totally worth it.” His chuckle was low, with a growly undertone that made her shiver. Don’t be stupid, that practical portion of her brain warned. This talk about killing each other and stealing skips and their mutual antagonism wasn’t some weird, twisted version of flirting. He might enjoy riling her up, and he was most likely sincere about wanting her to work for him—she and her sisters were very good at what they did, after all—but he wasn’t interested in her like that. He was just a very, very attractive guy who was used to getting what he wanted. When she refused his job offers and stole his skips and responded to his teasing with snark rather than utter adoration, he wanted her even more.

Heat rushed to her belly, even as she hurried to correct the thought. Wants me to work for him, not wants me in any other way.

Wrestling her mind away from that line of thinking before she could get even more flustered, she focused on the playground. A toddler who’d been playing on the base of the slide was swept up by her mom, and the two walked toward the ice cream shop. Even though it was the middle of the day, the place seemed to be doing a brisk business. An older couple entered the shop while a young woman in running clothes peered through the front window, as if tempted by the thought of a cone.