Page 9 of Hard and Unprotected

Leah grabbed me as soon as I walked out the door.

“Stand up straight,” she hissed before wiping something off my cheek and steering me past the shelving to the main part of the store.

“What the--?”

Why was my coworker being so pushy, fussing over me like a clucky hen?

I stumbled and almost fell, but caught myself just in time on a display of kitty condos.

But then my mouth dropped open.

Because it was the guy from yesterday.

The one with the pit bull who needed training.

“Um, hi!” I said, flabbergasted.

What did he want? He couldn’t possibly have run out of food because he’d just bought two hundred dollars worth yesterday.

“What can I help you with, sir?” came my stammering question.

The alpha flashed a grin, making my knees go weak.

“No need to be formal. I’m Evan. Evan Lincoln.” The man’s voice was low and confident, just sexy and deep enough to slither between my legs and make me melt. And he said his name like it was supposed to mean something to me.

What was going on?

The name Evan didn’t ring any bells.

Should it?

Did I miss something?

“Great,” I parroted. “Is there something I can help you with?”

Mr. Lincoln looked around, blue eyes scanning the store.

“Can we talk someplace more private?” he asked.

At eight thirty on a Friday night, the shop was nearly empty. One customer was taking forever deciding whether to buy one gerbil or two while Leah lurked nearby in an obvious way, eyes watching my every move instead of paying attention to the cash register.

I nodded at her, willing the woman to disappear but she only stared back at me, nosy as ever.

Dammit.

“Sure,” came my hesitant reply. “But we only have a small back office. It’s not really a conference room or anything like that. It’s more of a storage closet, where we keep papers and files.”

“That works,” he nodded, voice smooth. “Just lead the way.”

What?

This was so weird.

What was so important that we needed a private space to chat?

But the customer is always right, especially one who comes into your store and spends mad moolah. Especially one who looks like a dark angel descended from heaven in his perfectly cut black suit, charcoal hair swept off his forehead.

So I walked down the aisle, the big man trailing me. And just like last time, his eyes were glued to my ass. I could feel it, that blue gaze devouring me as my bottom jumped and danced on its own.