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interest in Spencer. “No six-year-old wants to spend nearly seven hours in the car only to hang out someplace for two hours.” He chuckled as he imagined his precocious nephew crossing his arms and rolling his brown eyes behind his round, wire-frame glasses. The word of the day: lame.
    “But I want to see him.”
    Kevin took a step back and crossed his arms and ankles as he leaned against the counter. “Why?”
    She glanced away and extinguished the candles on the counter, then went to work stacking plates… the same ones Kat had taken out of the dishwasher and stacked moments earlier. “He’s an important part of your life. I want to get to know him better.”
    He drank his beer and watched the tendrils of smoke drift into the air before slowly evaporating. Spencer had been an important part of his life from his first breath. Hell, from the moment Kevin found out his unwed baby sister would make him an uncle, he made the baby a priority. Spencer was four when Lizbeth entered the picture, so why the sudden interest? How had Spencer become a pawn on her chessboard?
    “I’ll tell you what,” he said, dumping his empty bottle into the recycling bin before going to the fridge for another. “You can come to Myrtle Beach with me and stay the weekend. I’ll bring you back sometime Monday. Or, you can drive separately and come back whenever you want.”
    She abandoned the dishes in favor of freeing a few buttons on his dress shirt. “Maybe.” Translation: No, thank you. I’ll just get what I want by manipulating you through sex.
    He tightened his grip on the bottle and squeezed his eyes shut as she kissed the center of his neck, then nibbled her way up to his ear.
    “Lizbeth, I’m not going to change my mind. In addition to Spencer, I left Wade dealing with a problem—”
    “Do you really want to talk shop right now?” She licked the shell of his ear and released the remaining buttons, then tugged his shirt out of his pants. Running her hands along his sides and around to his back, she whispered, “Or would you rather do something else? Like me.”
    He knew her plan, could see the blueprint laid out before him. He wanted to tell her he wasn’t interested in sex tonight, especially not when she used it as a method of manipulation, but when she bit down on his bottom lip, the sharp sting was like pulling the pin from a grenade.
    She tried to stroke her tongue over his lip, to soothe the pain. But he jerked his head away and allowed the pain to ignite a series of blasting caps along his central nervous system.
    How ironic he hadn’t been able to draw forth any emotion before, because now, every negative emotion a man could feel swirled in his gut like a Molotov cocktail waiting for a light. When she nipped at his collarbone and pinched his nipple between her finger and thumb, the charge detonated.
    On instinct, he wrapped his hand around the back of her head, angled his mouth over hers, and took her with angry force.
    In the back of his mind, he knew continuing to sell his soul to the devil would only get him in deeper. But the devil drove a hard bargain, reminding him they were, technically, still involved. What did it matter if this short-term want was at odds with his long-term needs? Why not have sex to work off a shitty day?
    A flash of an image pressed at the edge of his mind, causing him to break the kiss and step back. He opened his eyes and stared at Lizbeth’s dark hair, shaking off the memory of a long, blond braid. The building inspector had taunted him all evening, but he was drawing the line here. She wasn’t invited to this particular party.
    Lizbeth’s eyes filled with questions as she studied his face. Sensing his retreat, she hastily unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and slipped her hand inside his boxers. His breath lodged in his throat and his eyes crossed as she grabbed his erection and squeezed.
    Fuck yeah.
    His head dropped back on his shoulders and a hiss pushed through his lips