Chapter Four
Puzzles intrigued Hagan. Brutally honest women had always caught his eye. He couldn’t recall a situation where these interests converged. If they ever had before, it hadn’t come in the form of a dark-haired beauty packing heat. “At least you gave me fair warning.”
Irritation pinched the corners of her eyes.
Given the mysterious entirety of their brief encounter, he decided to take her words as the simple truth. No promises. She might shoot him. He almost laughed. What the hell was he doing?
Hagan took his time as he climbed the stairs, watching her trigger finger and studying the way she dressed. He couldn’t explain why, but her unremarkable attire seemed less a fashion choice and more a tool to hide in plain sight.
With minimal makeup and hair tied into a ponytail so severe that it almost gave him a headache, she hadn’t downplayed herself enough to keep his pulse from skipping. Or maybe her gun and attitude were what had his blood pumping. Either way, he didn’t care and wasn’t walking away.
Hagan took the final step onto the staircase landing. Her apprehensive gaze stayed on his, though she had to tilt her chin up to maintain the connection. Her feet stayed planted, and her jaw clenched as she defiantly held her ground.
“You haven’t shot me yet,” he pointed out.
“The night’s still young.”
He grinned. “I’ve never been propositioned by a woman with a gun before.”
A blush ignited on her cheeks despite her disinterested expression. “Trust me, you haven’t been tonight.”
His mind raced. She didn’t shoot him or demand he leave, and Hagan couldn’t stop wondering what made her tick.
The tint on her cheeks had cooled, and she stood straighter. He wanted to point out that no matter how she stretched, he’d still have at least a foot on her.
She inched closer. “What were you doing?”
The corners of his lips quirked. “Nothing as exciting as this.”
“Wow, you like to avoid direct answers, huh?”
“Depends.” Hagan lifted a shoulder playfully, then admitted, “Running fireman sprints.”
“Those aren’t easy,” she said.
“I wasn’t looking for easy.” He realized how much that still applied. He dipped his chin to the gun still clasped in her hand. “Are you gonna holster that bad boy?”
“No. I hadn’t planned on it.”
The irregular cadence of her breath made him hitch. “It’s not a security blanket.”
Her nostrils flared. “Which is why I can’t understand why you’re still here.”
The faint outline of her nipples pressed against her shirt. Hagan swallowed hard. “We’ve come this far.” His lips quirked. “I don’t see the fun in leaving yet.”
“I don’t like fun.”
He laughed. “Bullshit, beautiful.”
“Do lines like that work for you?”
“Better question.” He stepped closer. “Is it working now?”
Her eyes rounded, and her lips parted as though she didn’t know what to say. “You’re flirting with me?”
“I’d be a fool not to.”
A two-count passed. He wasn’t sure she was breathing until he heard the whisper of her breath. He sensed her hesitation, then wondered how she knew Parker. The last thing Hagan wanted to do was flirt with a new teammate. He retreated. “I should head out.”
Her eyelashes fluttered as though he’d caught her off guard. “Maybe—” She straightened. “Yes. That’s what I’ve been saying.”
Maybe? Had he read her indecision wrong? “Maybe we could run into each other again.”
She solidified into a concrete wrecking ball of back-the-hell-up. “No.”
All right then, maybe not. He gave her more room but still wanted to see her again. “We could make plans. How about dinner?”
“Dinner …?” She blanched as if Hagan had suggested they join the circus. “No.”
“Shot down again.” He laughed at himself and saluted. “Message read loud and clear.”
“Wait.” She grimaced. “All I meant was—”
“You don’t have to explain.” He gestured to her weapon. “Even if you didn’t have the gun.”
She glanced down and then licked her lips. “I already explained, I don’t do friends—” Her chin snapped up. “Nothing in the same vicinity as friends.”
Was she warning him away from the hope of friends with benefits? His eyebrow crooked, and his mind escalated the possibility in a nanosecond. “It’d be just my luck that you don’t do buddies either.”
Her gaze flamed. “I don’t do buddies of any kind.”
“Too bad.” He winked.
She swallowed hard. “It’s the best way to be.”
“Very cautious of you.” He leaned into their conversation. “Why are you so wary?”
“Why are you still here?”
Hagan smiled. “Because I’m not sure either of us wants me to leave.”
Without disagreeing, she sealed her lips. “Friends are dangerous.”
“Nothing a quick frisk and pat down couldn’t help with.”
Her lips parted as though a physical search hadn’t crossed her mind before, and now that it had, she didn’t know how to respond to the idea of her hands on his skin. “Are you dangerous?”
“Not to society.” He moved with slow, purposeful steps until he’d closed their distance. “Not to you.”
“That’s what they all say.”
Hagan dropped his tone to match hers. “I’m going to tell you a secret.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
He winked. “It’s so cheesy and true that you’ll thank me later.”
A flicker of a smile betrayed her. “I doubt it.”
“Ready?”
She tilted her head, almost rolling her eyes. “Sure.”
“I’m nothing like you’ve ever met.”
Her laughter was music to his ears—then a devilish dare of an idea danced over her face. “Turn around.”
“Why?”
“You suggested a quick frisk.” She signaled for him to turn. “Against the wall. Arms up, feet apart.”
Hagan snorted. “Lady, it was a joke.”
She didn’t so much as blink.
“Jeez, tough crowd.” He waited. There wasn’t a popsicle’s chance in hell that Miss Uptight-With-A-Gun would put her hands on him. Not even if Hagan prayed.
“Turn around,” she repeated.
Hell, what did he have to lose? He stepped to the challenge and turned.
She shifted and holstered her weapon.
His stomach dropped, and Hagan glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t know if I’m astonished or slightly turned on right now.”
She positioned her foot between his and angled her position to protect her smaller frame.
“You know what you’re doing.” He gave her space to search him, slowly lifting his arms. He shivered at the possibility of her nimble fingers skimming across his stomach, hips, and thighs. And, if she came anywhere near his groin— he’d feel a lot more than a shiver.
“Of course, I know what I’m doing.” Deftly, she tugged at his shirt.
The fabric pulled from his post-workout damp skin.
Cool air kissed his flesh. Goosebumps formed.
His breath caught as she methodically searched him with a frightening level of professionalism.
If the situation had been reversed, he wouldn’t have been businesslike. “Am I clear?”
She ignored him, and her fingers skirted his waistband. If this little game didn’t end soon, she’d learn exactly what he was packing.
Hagan glanced over his shoulder again. “Now are we friends?”
Mistrustful reservation had darkened her eyes. “Stand still.”
“What do kids these days consider second base?”
Her hands ran up his ribs and in front of his arms until she returned to the front of his shorts.
“Because second base would make us more than friends,” he explained, restraint waning. “Yeah, this is definitely, almost second base.”
Without a word, she stepped back. “Guess you’re not as dangerous as you look.”
Hagan pinched his eyes shut and pulled himself together. He turned, and her cold expression might’ve castrated a lesser man. But that lesser man wouldn’t have noticed the flush that returned to her cheeks. “Didn’t know I looked that way to start.”
She rolled her eyes. “If the games are over—”
“They’re just starting.” Hagan gave his most charming, distraction-worthy smile, then disarmed the woman and spun her to the wall before taking his next breath.