Fall Guy (A Youngblood Book)

my heart out with a scalpel, took a bite, and sewed it back in. Rabin was such a bastard, and I was almost waiting for him to crush me. But Mackenzie? I'd opened up to her more than most people in my life.
Letting her get close had been one of my biggest mistakes, but I refuse to let the way she hurt me shape how much I open up to other people. Brenna helped me get over what Mackenzie had done and wound up being one of the best people to ever come into my world.
I believe in jumping over past hurts and letting love in. I try to believe, anyway, and am trying, even as images of Mackenzie and Rabin flash through my head and cause me to slam another drawer closed.
"What did that file cabinet do to you?"
Winch's voice has me spinning around, and I make a mental note to keep the corners of my mouth tugged slightly down. I have things to figure out before I start snapping tons of smiles his way. The instant after I think that thought, I feel the upward inch of a grin I have to force back down.
"That cabinet is taking the blame for all these stupid files. Are you coming to help with this mess?"
His shrug and half-smile move up and down almost imperceptibly. "Officer said I can do whatever I like. I haven't decided."
I may love his company, but I'm sure as hell not letting him know that.
"You know, you kind of stink. It might be hard for me to work with you so close." Despite my resolve not to smile at him, one creeps on my face.
"Rolo said he needs help outside." He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms over his chest, which makes his triceps bulge. "Say the word, and I'll leave."
"Winchester Youngblood, you do whatever your little heart desires. It doesn't matter to me one way or another."
To grandslam my point home, I flip through a stack of papers and stare at them intently, moving my lips like I'm talking to myself about important filing issues and have no interest in what Winch decides to do.
Meanwhile, my ears are pricked for his response, and I'm hoping he's going to pull closer instead of pushing away.
"Alright. If you don't complain about my man-stink, I won't complain about having to do paperwork."
He heaves off the door and starts to move closer to me. When I catch him taking a discreet sniff under his arms, my smile expands so wide, it hurts my cheeks.
I slide the files into a cabinet, close it with one hip, and crook my finger his way.
"What?" he asks, but his voice is low and husky.
I crook my finger again and he maneuvers around the papers until we're a foot or two apart.
I lean forward until there isn’t more than five inches between us.
"Hot sweaty man is one of my all-time favorite smells." I watch his pupils dilate and feel the tickle of a thrill pirouette down my spine. "Now come help me find the rest of the Deckers so we can finish this filing, and I might just take you to my favorite pizza place when we're done."

Winch 3
I should have gone out and chopped wood or whatever the fuck it was Rolo needed help with, because being this close to Evan isn't going to work.
And, to top it all off, she asked me out.
I avoided answering because I know what I want to answer isn’t what I should, and now we're both working like two busy-ass ants in a hill, trying not to crash into all the awkwardness hanging in the space between us.
"Did you find the other Fischers?" she asks and leans over to sort through some papers on the floor.
She leans from her waist, her long, sweet body folded in half, and I notice her feet are always pointed toe out, like maybe she's a dancer. She definitely has the body for it.
"No. Just a whole hell of a lot of Harris files. That family needs to send one of their kids to law school, 'cause they're gonna have legal bills out the ass forever."
My breath slams through my lungs when her laugh rings out, loud and happy, filling this stuffy, dirty room with something so good, I never want to leave it.
I push that thought out of my head. This wasn't supposed to have gone as far as it did. I should never have knocked on the glass when I saw her this morning, all my fears that she'd been reassigned put to rest. I should have walked right past her when she was sitting there, slumped on the floor, that day at court. She probably would have jetted if it wasn't for me interfering.
She would have missed her court date, and by the time she got reassigned, my community service would have been almost over, and I wouldn't be stuck thinking of a way to dodge this date I want to go on with her so badly, but can't.
I just can't, and it's too complicated to explain why to her, even though I want her to know all the reasons why more than I've ever wanted anything before. I want to tell her...everything.
But that's not a possibility.
"Winch?"
She's got her head bent over some papers she's sorting between her fingers, so I almost don't hear her say my name.
Which would be a shame, because I love the way my name sounds from her mouth.
"Yeah?"
I hand her over some files and her eyes meet mine, all cool and sweet like a snow-cone in July.
She grabs the files and her fingers run over the skin on my hand.
"About later? The pizza thing? It's cool if you don't want to go. Or can't go. If you have a reason...you can tell me if there's a reason that it would be a bad idea."
She looks down at those folders like they're gonna tell her the secrets of the world, and I'm