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me, sweet Gracie. You underestimate me.”
    Involuntarily, Grace’s eyes flicked to the front of his pants. His erection bulged, large and looming, as if offering a promise. The corner of Sarge’s mouth tilted upward. He’d seen her not-so-subtle glance and let her know it with the glitter in his eyes and his knowing grin. Then, he picked up his bottle and walked up the stairs.
    There was still a part of her that wanted to pick up her bag and get back home. But that part had gotten smaller after this last verbal exchange while the part of her that was excited by him grew stronger. Their verbal combat had turned her on. She was stubborn and oppositional. She knew this about herself. She also knew she pushed Sarge away out of fear more than any other emotion. He would grow less interested in her as he got to know her. Few men stayed interested in alpha females. She was a curiosity, not relationship material. This way was always better. She would reject him before he rejected her.
    After Steve, a consistent evasion of emotional attachment had worked well for her since she realized with brutal clarity that she was not the kind of woman men wanted, that the sweet words disappeared after she failed to conform to their expectations of how a woman should act.
    So many times in the past, she’d told herself this one is different. They never were.
    Grace had to admit she liked Sarge’s desire for her. He may be exactly what she needed in her life, strong, sexy, and aggressive. Wasn’t that what she’d been looking for? Weren’t those the qualities she found sexy in the bad boys she’d been attracted to? This man was incorrigible, and a small part of her liked it. She shook her head and snorted. She was doing it again, talking herself into why this one was different.
    With his aggressive sexuality staring her in the face every hour of every day, it would be harder for her to maintain control, to stay at a safe emotional distance. Especially since a part of her wanted him already. Common sense had to prevail.
    Impulsivity was her Achilles’ heel and was something she battled with regularly. Because of this, her dad had tried to teach her not to rush into decisions. He said that the right choices usually made themselves apparent with time. Over the years, Grace found that advice to be true, at least when she’d had enough impulse control to follow it.
    Her dad. Grace tilted her head to the side, and a slow smile crossed her face as she remembered his utterly candid way of dealing with her. She had never, not once in her life, seen her dad do anything as sneaky as this. Despite all the skills he’d taught her, he still talked about the importance of having a man in her life, one who could provide and care for her, whom she could have a family with. Was this some kind of apocalyptic matchmaking scheme he’d cooked up? She shook her head. Whatever it was, he’d never led her wrong before. Ever. Her dad had known Sarge and called him a friend for years. She just had to trust him.
    This situation called for a precedent. She was going to assert her independence from Sarge. She opened her duffel and grabbed a clean thong and put it in her pocket. After she picked up her gun and tucked it in her waistband, she quietly walked up the shelter stairs, exited through the closet, and replaced the false wall so the opening wasn’t visible.
    Grace unlocked the dead bolt on the front door of the house and slipped out. It was late in the day. There were people out in their yards barbecuing and hanging out with their neighbors. It looked like one big block party. She shook her head. Unbelievable! These people were completely clueless.
    She stopped to get her bearings so she could find Sarge’s home when she returned in the dark and then headed north. Less than five minutes later, she saw the marked path to the Clifton Piers.
    The long slabs of concrete jutted out about a foot higher than the dark water of the lake. There were still way too