I was staring at ‘Kane’ Porter in disbelief when he turned around and met my gaze.

“What?”

“Who are you?” I said with far more emphasis then all the times, before.

He frowned. Opening his mouth to answer the brunette with the short bob stepped in-front of him again. Blocking my view of him save his nose and eyes towering over her.

He’s tall. I never really noticed before.

I, apparently, didn’t notice an awful lot.

“We need to talk.” The skinny brunette said. Putting a hand on her hip.

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “I think we’ve done quite enough of that.”

“Kane…” She said coaxingly.

“No.” He told her. Stepping around her and aiming straight for me.

I gave him a stunned look since he didn’t appear to be walking toward me but at me.

He was.

As soon as he got to me he put his hands on my hips and tugged me forcefully against him. Making my eyes bulge. He leaned down near my ear and whispered. “Put your arms around my neck.”

I stared at him.

He swept up one of my arms and tossed it around his neck, caressing a rough palm down the top of it and then dropping his touch back to my hip.

My other hand hesitantly followed. Though I couldn’t link my fingers behind his neck, I held the sides of it. Looking up at him.

“Just work with me.” He mouthed.

The brunette marched over to us and veered around to see the front of him.

“Kane!” She said in outrage.

He didn’t look at her. Grinning down at me as though I’d just said something funny. When he flashed that heart stopping smile, I about lost my balance on my heels. Dimpled grooves framed his mouth. And he had perfect square teeth. That grin cut across his face in blinding brightness. Making his green eyes dance and the corners crinkle.

When he smiled like that, he looked even more like a magazine cover. He reached up to tuck a bit of hair behind my ear, fondly. Making his shirt, which was unbuttoned to midway down his chest bow open, revealing the tribals cutting across his chest behind the tattooed cross necklace.

“Who is she?” Susan shrieked in outrage. Gesturing to me.

He just dropped me dead center into a shit storm of drama.

And the way this skinny witch was looking at me, she appeared to be one that would certainly cause it.

What is he doing?

“Not your business, Suze.” He rotated me to turn his back to her.

She caught his forearm and tried to yank him back to her, though he refused to budge for her.

“Kaney, just talk to me for a minute.” She whined.

“I thought I’d made it painfully he clear,” He snarled over his shoulder. “We’re done. Over. I want nothing to do with you. Stop calling, stop showing up here, my apartment, everywhere and leave me the Hell alone.”

He said it so fiercely I thought he might round on her and fully unload if she didn’t scamper off.

She did. Huffing she tossed her hair. Making the short-cut bob dance around her face as she turned her nose up in a perfect imitation of every ‘Karen’ I’d ever imagined. Stalking off in heels that were far too high with a skirt that was too tight. Sharply lined on the sides to give the illusion of curves.

That girl don’t have much curves. I thought as she walked away.

“Thank you.” Porter stepped back from me.

“Mind telling me what that was?”

“Annoying.” He tossed over his shoulder as he made his way back to the booth in the corner, expecting me to follow.

I didn’t realize someone was behind us when I shouted to him. “Why’d he call you boss? Thought you were just a security manager, like managing the overall safety of this place.”

“No.” The guy trailing behind me laughed. “Security Manager means he’s the boss of the rest of us that do that.”

“What?” I looked back at Porter’s back. “You head all security here?”

“I said Security Manager.” He slid into the seat again.

He did say that.

I just didn’t know what it meant.

A waitress came over and set a couple cokes down in-front of us.

“Good Morning, Good Lookin’.” She murmured to Porter. Giving him a wink before sauntering off.

Shaking my head I lifted the drink and chased the straw with my fingernails as I continued the conversation. “So, who was Susan?”

“My former fiancé.”

“Why not current fiancé?” I pinched the straw and took a sip.

“Because I found out she was screwing your husband last year.”

I spit my drink. Probably on Porter. Blinking my wide eyes in shock.

“I didn’t know he was doing her.” I said. Feeling the same old need to try to apologize for behavior that wasn’t even mine.

“Didn’t expect you would’ve.”

I took another drink. Waiting for him to say more and hoping whatever came next wouldn’t make me spit again.

“Caught her, confronted her,” He explained. “She lied, then admitted, I kicked her out and told her to lose my number.”

“I doubt it was that simple.” I said sympathetically. Remembering the sorrow and humiliation I’d first felt after my divorce.

“It wasn’t. Is now.”

“Do you always talk like that?”

He averted his attention to me. Brows lowering. “Like what?”

“Choppy. Raw.”

“I suppose that’s me.”

“You’re not like that at work.”

“Don’t have to talk at work.” He countered.

I started to argue and caught myself to think about it. How often did I hear him talk?

Not very damn much.

Really only to thank Rita for coffee.

“You do all the talking.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. Giving him a dark look.

Seeing my expression, he added. “Didn’t say that was a bad thing. I don’t like talking.”

“Well, that’s disappointing with your people skills, that’s truly a shame.”

“Ha!” He laughed outright at that.

I watched him. A little mesmerized, like watching a wild tiger I’d only seen caged before, now roaming its natural habitat.

He sobered and tossed the straw from his glass to lift the cup to his lips. Taking a drink. “You going to move in?”

“When you say it so sweetly, how could I resist?”

He shrugged. “In reality, you don’t have a choice. You’re already as good as my bedfellow.”

“Excuse me?” I asked, appalled.

He snickered. “I don’t think that word means what you think.”

“I know one of the meanings!”

“I’m sure you do.” His gaze skimmed over me once more. “But I meant as far as both of us knowing you’re stealing and not saying a word about it.”

‘Stealing’ again.

I hate that word.

“Well, thanks for that!”

“Are you going to answer me, Love?”

“Answer what?”

He gave me a chiding look. “Don’t play dumb with me.”

I sighed, chewing my bottom lip.

He leaned across the table. The dancing lights tossing over his hard, masculine features. “You already know you’re moving in with me, Angel. Who you foolin’?”