Hearts On Deck (highville #3)

Prologue

Shit shit shit.

I was officially running ten minutes late to meet the cyber security guy.

It was taking everything in me not to cuss Serenity’s father out for purposefully picking her up late—standing there with that smug little smile, checking his watch every thirty seconds like he wasn’t the one who showed up twenty minutes after the agreed time, knowing damn well I had something important to do today.

Talking about some, “Damn Sev, you act like the world gone end.”

No, but if this man from Czar Tech left before setting up my cameras after I paid that insane ass consultation fee? I might actually lose it.

My heels clicked hard against the polished hallway floors as I hurried toward Studio 7, balancing my tote bag, protein shake, and phone all at once while trying not to smudge the lip gloss I’d just reapplied in the elevator mirror downstairs.

The building was mostly quiet this early. There was a soft instrumental music drifting from the spa two doors down and the faint smell of eucalyptus floating through the air.

I rounded the corner fast as hell and almost ran directly into a wall of muscle.

“Oh my God?—”

A large hand shot out and caught my waist before I could stumble backwards. My protein shake tilted dangerously.

“Careful.”

His voice deep as hell.

I looked up and…oh.

The first thing I noticed was the glasses.

Then the locs.

Then the arms.

Then the fact this man looked like he could pick up my car and move it if it was parked illegally.

He was about 6’5. Fine as hell. Beard full and trimmed with a burgundy fitted shirt stretched across a chest that looked carved outta somebody’s toxic prayer journal.

And quiet. Like… scary quiet.

I realized his hand was still on my waist. So, I cleared my throat and stepped back slowly.

“My bad. I’m running late.”

“You’re Sevyn?”

His voice stayed level, like he thinks about what comes out his mouth before he actually says it.

I looked at him harder. “…You the cyber security guy?”

One thick eyebrow lifted slightly. “Kasen Reed.”

I stared.

Ain’t no damn way.

Czar Tech had people looking like this?

I had expected some middle-aged white man named Todd with a tablet clipped to his hip. Not a six-foot-five dark skin professor built like he wrestled grizzly bears recreationally.

“Oh…okay.”

His eyes dropped briefly to the studio door behind me. “You wanted the full surveillance package installed before your grand opening next week.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re eleven minutes late.”

I narrowed my eyes immediately. “Oh you one of them.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The punctuality police.” I dug through my purse for my keys. “You got the job or you got jokes?”

Something almost like amusement flickered across his face.

Almost.

“I have both.”

Okayyyy.

I unlocked the studio and pushed the door open before he could see the little smile threatening my mouth.

The scent of fresh paint and vanilla hit instantly. My baby was finally coming together.

Cream walls. Arch mirrors. Soft lighting. Matte gold accents. The reformer machines lined up perfectly.

Studio 7.

My other baby outside of Serenity.

Kasen stepped inside behind me and went quiet for a second.

His eyes moved across the room slowly. Taking everything in.

“It’s nice,” he said finally.

“It better be nice. This place cost me my last nerve and half my lifespan.”

That got the smallest exhale out of him.

I turned around to face him fully, crossing my arms beneath my chest. “So what exactly happens now, Mr. Reed?”

His gaze met mine and for the first time since I walked in, I noticed something underneath all that discipline.

Nervousness.

It was tiny and hidden well, but it’s there.

“We walk the property first,” he said. “Then I’ll discuss blind spots, entry points, emergency access, and where your cameras should be positioned.”

“Mhm.”

His eyes flicked away from my face almost too fast.

Kasen moved through the studio with a tablet in his hand and quiet focus written all over him while I followed behind trying very hard not to stare at this man’s arms every five seconds.

He explained everything in that same deep calm voice too.

“Camera here.”

Tap.

“One above the rear entrance.”

Tap.

“Motion sensor by the employee hallway.”

Tap.

Every sentence sounded expensive, organized and aggravatingly attractive.

I leaned against the front desk while he checked the security panel wiring near the back office. His locs were pulled over one shoulder now, exposing the tattoos along his forearm as he crouched slightly beside the wall.

“Most break-ins happen through employee familiarity,” he said. “Not strangers.”

“You saying my future employees about to rob me?”

“I’m saying trust everybody enough to smile at them. Not enough to leave them unwatched.”

“Mmm.” I crossed my arms. “You sound experienced.”

“I am.”

This man spoke like a walking Terms & Conditions agreement.

I watched him stand to his full height again and almost rolled my eyes at how unfairly fine he was. Then he walked past me and my eyes lingered before I caught myself.

Jesus Christ.

He smelled good. Masculine. Rich. Like fresh cologne over warm skin and discipline.

Yves Saint Laurent Y EDP.

Not the weak version either.

It was subtle enough that I knew I had to be close to catch it. Which meant I had definitely been too close.

My gaze slid toward him while he adjusted something on the tablet.

“You wear YSL?”

His fingers paused. Then his eyes lifted slowly toward mine through those glasses. “…Yeah.”

A small smile pulled at my mouth. “You smell good.”

And baby…If that man wasn’t dark skin before, he definitely wasn’t now.

The tips of his ears turned slightly red while he cleared his throat and looked back at the screen in his hand.

“Thank you.”

Oh nah.

This big ass man was shy.

I bit the inside of my cheek immediately to stop myself from grinning too hard.

Dangerous combination.

Fine, smart, quiet, AND easily flustered? Yeah somebody somewhere needed their ass beat for creating him.

About another hour passed before everything was finally installed. Kasen walked me through the app setup on my phone, showed me how to access the live feeds, emergency locks, motion alerts, all of it.

I stood in the middle of the studio afterward while the soft overhead lighting glowed against the mirrors.

The room looked complete now. My reformers lined up perfectly. The front desk finished. Security done and my logo mounted behind the reception wall in gold lettering.

Studio 7.

A real smile spread across my face before I could stop it.

I actually did this.

Kasen looked up from packing away the last of his equipment and went still for a second watching me.

Pride sat heavy in my chest. Relief too.

“This all started with me teaching classes in my living room,” I admitted quietly. “Now look at this.”