Reyes didn’t believe in magic.

She’d done something when he touched her. He felt different. Energy coursed through him with no outlet, as if a customary corollary had suddenly been blocked. He felt slower, too, as if his muscles had forgotten how to move.

Just as well he hadn’t intended to do anything here at Suds. He never acted without all the facts, and he needed to know more about this woman. It worked on him like a compulsion. He wanted to know her better than his own name.

Like most impulses, he’d resist it, taking satisfaction instead in leashing his appetites. Reyes almost enjoyed letting the longing build to fever pitch, only to turn his back on it. He never let hunger overwhelm him anymore. But for the first time in years, temptation tugged. She smelled like coconut oil and sunny days. He wondered what she’d do if he leaned down to breathe the scent of her. Would she fight? Scream?

“We’ll take a ride,” he said easily. “You probably should get away from here. Once those rednecks figure things out, they’ll come running.”

“You’re not getting in my car.”

Smart woman. But that wouldn’t do her any good, not when he already knew her weakness. Attachments, whether to people, places, or things, only led to trouble.

He applied a little pressure on the tire. “Both of us go. Or neither. They’re going to think I was your silent partner since I made them pay up, and I’m not taking a beating for you. But if you want to get away, I’d hurry. Sounds like they’re getting riled inside.”

No lie. Reyes heard shouting. Soon the men she’d swindled would come pouring out, looking to take the money back and maybe a pound of flesh. Chet had probably worked himself up to thinking she owed him sex to make up for the heaping helping of emasculation she’d served him with a smile. This couldn’t have fallen out better if he’d planned it.