Suspicious Activities. Tyler Anne Snell

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      Jackson tilted his head slightly. The woman’s tone had shifted into that of a parent talking about someone else when really she was trying to teach her kid the lesson. A passively pointed conversation. One directed at him. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave the woman a long look. He didn’t care how attractive she was; he didn’t like being lectured.

      “Some would argue that thinking too much can sometimes complicate a situation more than acting impulsively,” he shot back, tone matching.

      “And most of those people find themselves on the wrong end of those situations when all they needed to have done was take a beat and think logically.”

      Any trace of a smile had been wiped from her lips. Jackson knew he’d met his match.

      “Acting on impulse suggests passion,” he said. “When you have passion as your driving force, you are harder to slow down. To stop. To beat. Taking the time to overthink everything suggests that that person doesn’t really care what he’s fighting for.” He shrugged. “And, in my opinion, I would bet that person doesn’t even know what passion is.” The last part was, of course, meant for the woman in front of him. The one judging him like all the others had done before and still did. He raised his eyebrow at her just in case she missed his jab. She wasn’t the only one who could be passive.

      The woman’s jaw set hard, her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned slightly. She looked like she was rearing for a comeback when Jonathan walked in from the hallway. He smiled at the two of them and walked over.

      “I see you’ve already met the boss, then,” Jonathan greeted.

      Jackson’s eyes widened.

      Of course she was the boss.

      Nikki Waters.

      She cut eye contact with him when she answered the man. “We were just having a pleasant conversation in which I think Mr. Fields was implying I needed more passion in my life.”

      Jonathan burst into laughter.

      “Rough around the edges, remember?” he said.

      Nikki held out her hand in response.

      “Your contract, please,” she said to Jackson. He handed it to her without a word. Not because he was intimidated or embarrassed, but because he didn’t just want this job. He needed it. Unless he’d already shot himself in the foot. Instead of tearing up the papers like he was afraid she might, Nikki put the folder beneath her arm and fixed him with a fierce stare. “Now, if you two will excuse me, I have an important meeting.”

      Jonathan seemed to sober a bit.

      “Good luck,” he said. She nodded, turning on her heel. She paused long enough to say something to the trainer.

      “And his hair is too shaggy.”

      Then she was gone.

      * * *

      NIKKI TAPPED HER heel against the ceramic tile and desperately wanted not one but several more drinks. She didn’t often indulge in alcohol, but tonight of all nights she found her nerves craved it. Looking at the people around her, all in varying physical descriptors, ethnicities, ages and interests, she questioned why she was even there.

      Was there not another way?

      Was this her last option?

      Would this even work?

      “—so I have to stay in perfect shape all the time,” the man across the table from her said, obviously proud. “How could I help people sculpt the perfect bodies if their fitness instructor didn’t have one, too?”

      Nikki’s need for another drink was almost as great as the mass of the man’s biceps. She gave him a polite smile that she hoped wouldn’t be construed as romantic interest. The man might have been attractive, but in the two minutes they’d had to talk he hadn’t once asked her a question. If Nikki had wanted to sit in silence, she would have stayed at home instead of coming out to a speed-dating event.

      “I actually had a woman come up to me after class and say I changed her life with my w—”

      A bell went off and Nikki nearly clapped. The man seemed upset he couldn’t finish his “stories of me,” but she had no doubt he’d continue them with the woman at the next table. He didn’t say goodbye as he stood up and started to leave. Nikki took the opportunity to pull her phone out of her purse and check the time.

      Her thoughts jumped to the man back at Orion who had clearly made the accusation that she didn’t know what passion was. Even though she’d known Jackson Fields probably wasn’t the best conversationalist, she’d been surprised at his quickness to undercut her subtle accusation with one of his own. Those blue-gray eyes hadn’t backed down and hadn’t submitted. In his short rebuttal about “passion” he’d been passionate.

      Nikki sighed.

      He’d also been right about his assumption of her lacking passion.

      But maybe, just maybe, tonight would help with that side of her life.

      Before she could leave thoughts of him behind, she pictured him again. Even though he’d been shirtless, showcasing a tan and a toned chest, it was his smile that had first caught her attention. Despite his past, it had been strong, showing a man who looked confident, even if his dirty blond hair shagged out over his ears and his cut jaw had sported a little more than a five o’clock shadow. She’d bet he hadn’t been expecting to actually get offered the job. Or else, hopefully, he would have tried to look a bit more kempt. Though she hadn’t necessarily been put off by his appearance, either, shirt or not.

      Nikki shook her head, trying to sling off the snapshots of his body. Tonight wasn’t about him or work. It was about Nikki and trying to find someone she could laugh with, share some quality time with. Someone compatible who didn’t scare easily when she told him she ran an agency of muscled men who had protected hundreds of people over the years.

      She put her phone back in her purse and pasted on a smile as someone cleared his throat, bringing her attention to the new man in front of her.

      She froze.

      This man was definitely not the one she was looking for.

      “I know we’re supposed to tell each other good things about ourselves in the hope of making a meaningful connection in the next two minutes,” he started. “But how about instead I use that time to tell you about all the things wrong with you?” He gave a smile. It sent ice through her. “What do you say to that, Miss Waters?”

       Chapter Two

      Jackson couldn’t believe his stupidity. How he hadn’t put two and two together that the redhead in heels and leather pants was the famous Nikki Waters whom Jonathan had mentioned, he didn’t know.

      She was so distracting, he thought, trying to take it easy on himself. The way she had moved and talked was nothing but confidence and power. He’d dated many women before who had also held their own, but there was something different about the redhead.

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