Falling for My Enemy (Dirty Martini Running Club, #2)

by Claire Kingsley

Eying my hand like it might bite her, she slowly slipped hers into mine. Her skin was soft, her handshake firm. Also, sticky. No, that was my hand. Damn it.

“Just don’t make eye contact.” “Too late,” Sophie said. “I’m sorry—when you said that, I looked. I didn’t mean to.”

“Did you know a male pufferfish can spend days creating patterns in the sand on the ocean floor to attract a mate?” I blurted out, talking fast.

Gets flustered: blurts out random fact about animals

Although this cinnamon roll was so good, it was making me question everything. How could a woman who was so evil produce such heavenly food?

Do not dry hump his leg, Hazel. Do not. Obviously I did.

Her tone was just seductive enough to indicate interest, but not so flirtatious as to be obvious to the casual observer. But casual observer I was not, and I could see her intentions as plain as day. She wanted him. I hated her.

I raised an eyebrow. “Hello, Satan.” Shepherd Calloway’s cold blue eyes narrowed. “Nash.”

“Is she Bruce Lee?” I asked. “Molly, you’re dressing your half-Asian kid as Bruce Lee for Halloween?”