I whipped around, nearly sending my dinner flying off my plate. “I didn’t give you a hand job,” I whispered.

“Oh, Reese … you’re just adorable. Really.”

I narrowed my eyes and growled, taking a page from his playbook.

Fisher glanced over my shoulder, probably seeing if Rory was watching us. “If you growl at me, I’ll bite your ass again …” His gaze cut to me. “And you’ll like it.”

“I will not like it.” I turned back around.

Fisher’s face landed right next to my ear. “You will if I tie you up first.”

My back came to attention as I choked on a little saliva.

What the heck? Tie me up? Who does that?

“What are you two talking about?” Rory eyed us suspiciously as we stepped out onto the porch.

“Just sibling stuff.” Fisher grinned while taking a seat.

I chose the chair in the opposite corner of the porch as Fisher sat on the sectional.

“Rose wants to go to a jazz club Friday. Why don’t you come, Fisher? She’s bringing another friend. A single friend who happens to be an interior designer. Rose thinks she’s a good match for you. What do you say?”

“I like jazz,” I said.

Rory frowned. “Oh, sorry, sweetheart. You have to be twenty-one to get into the club.”

I focused on my plate of food, stirring it with my fork, waiting for it to cool down … waiting for me to cool down.

“Sounds fun. Count me in.”

My head snapped up, shooting my gaze right to Fisher. He chewed slowly, giving me a challenging look.

For the rest of dinner, I stay quiet, letting Fisher and Rory catch up.

“I’m going to my room to read before I go to bed. Thanks for dinner.” I headed toward the door.

“Okay. Sweet dreams, love,” Rory said.

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite.” Fisher leaned back on the sectional, stretching both arms across the back.

I wanted to kill him. He excelled at bringing out the worst in me. Why did I find him the least bit attractive?

Chapter Twenty

The next morning, Rory had coffee and breakfast made for me by the time I dressed, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and brushed my teeth.

“You’re up early,” I said.

“I’m a morning person. I didn’t used to be, but that changed.”

In prison.

I nodded. “Thanks.” I took a few sips of coffee and grabbed one of the muffins she made. “Gotta go. I’m sure he’s already waiting for me.” Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I smiled.

“Have a good day. I’ll be home from work around four. If you want, we can grab dinner.”

“We’ll see. We’re supposed to look for a car for me today. So who knows how my day will go?”

“Okay. Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”