Sweet Temptation: A Players Rockstar Romance (Players, Book 3)

owing bikers anything is a great strategy, longevity wise.”
I totally agreed with her on that point. But I assured her, “It’s not like that. You don’t owe anything to anyone, and you’re not going to.”
“Uh-huh. And how do I know some angry biker isn’t gonna show up at my door in the middle of the night demanding money, and threatening to yank my new alarm system out?”
“If he does, he can yank it out of my spleen first.”
She eyed me. “So, that’s it? Brody hired you to protect me and now you’re willing to bleed out on my living room floor? Just like that?”
“That’s the job.”
“Maybe you should get yourself a new job. This one doesn’t seem conducive to that longevity thing we just talked about.”
“It’s not that bad. Most of my time is spent looking for threats that don’t actually exist.”
“Okay. So when you establish there’s no threat at my place, how do you get home? You left your car at Brody’s.”
“I’ll have one of my guys drop it at your place for me.”
“And will you be having your mail forwarded there, too?”
I let that one go by.
“When will this car delivery take place?” she pressed.
“When someone has time.”
“And… when are you planning to leave my place?”
“Whenever you do.”
“And if I don’t leave?”
“Then I’ll stay there, as necessary.”
“What do you mean, as necessary? When is it necessary?”
“Whenever Brody, Jude and I feel you need twenty-four-hour protection. Right now, that’s the case.”
She kept staring at me, in-between glimpses at the road, and I kept tensing when she applied the brakes too late for comfort. I was really gonna have to convince her to let me do the driving.
“Okay…” she said, sounding frustrated. “Since you guys don’t seem to be getting this, the police arrested Blair Sanchuk. They took him to jail.”
“For now. And the Attorney General’s office will be asked to charge him with a crime. They’ll decide if he should be charged, and if not, he’ll be released faster than you can say jurisprudence.”
Summer gaped at me. “But he tried to break into my house.”
“Allegedly.”
“I was there. He climbed onto my balcony like a psycho.”
“He didn’t break anything.”
“He didn’t exactly knock on the front door like a sane person either.”
“Yeah, well, that’s how it goes. Unless you request that restraining order.” I gave it to her straight, because she was a big girl.
And for my efforts, she glared at me, like I’d personally invented the Canadian legal system.
“It’s your best means of protecting yourself,” I added.
Besides having me glued to your side.
“A restraining order? Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
I’d spent some time this morning brushing up on the ins and outs of restraining orders in this province. The one that applied to Summer’s situation was called a peace bond, and having one in place would ensure that the consequences would be severe if Sanchuk came near her again. My partner, Naveen, had already called in to our contacts inside the Vancouver Police Department to check on Sanchuk’s status. Brody had talked to his lawyers this morning, and I’d been on a conference call with him and Jude for like an hour before Summer came down from her bedroom.
After gathering all the information I could, so far, I definitely wasn’t under any illusions that Blair Sanchuk was safely out of the picture, never to be seen again.
A restraining order wouldn’t necessarily keep him away, either. But it would insure a quick response from police and criminal charges if he defied the order.
“You really think that’s necessary?” Summer pressed. She seemed to be turning it over in her head, but at least she sounded concerned now, like she was taking this conversation seriously.
“You don’t have much control over what happens to him in the system if they charge him with, what, attempted break and enter? He didn’t have a weapon on him or verbally threaten to harm you. Right?”
“Right,” she said quietly.
“So, a restraining order can do more for you than some minor charges that could get dropped, especially if he can swing a good lawyer.”
“You think he’ll show up at my house again?”
“If he does, and you’ve got the restraining order, the police will arrest him again and this time he’ll be charged in criminal court.”
Or maybe I’ll accidentally stab him.
“And in the meantime… your plan is to just move in with me?” She was looking at me again. She seemed to be paying more attention to me than the road. “You’re gonna bring your jammies over and everything?”
I nodded toward the front of the car. “Summer.” She hit the brakes as someone cut her off. We were jammed up in traffic on West Georgia, pretty bumper-to-bumper. “Keep your eyes on the road. Do you want to turn the music down?”
“No, I don’t.” She turned it up a bit.
Fuck. Electricity.
My dick actually throbbed when she defied me like that.
What the fuck was going on here?
I tried to tell myself it was the dress pants. They were just too damn tight.
“I don’t wear jammies,” I muttered.
“What?” She looked at me and the car swerved a little; she just about sideswiped another car. I reached and grabbed the wheel.
“Park,” I ordered.
She brought us to the curb, actually listening to me for once, and I released the steering wheel. She’d parked us in a no-stopping zone, so I told her, “Put your hazards on.”
She flicked them on and looked at me, her pale-blue eyes alert and charged like electric sockets.
I looked away. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re distracted,” I told her, pretending to watch traffic.
“I’m not distracted,” she insisted. “I’m not scared of Blair Sanchuk.”
That was a lie. She was scared, and she had reason to be.
I met her eyes again. “That’s not the distraction I meant,” I added bluntly.
Her sexy lips parted as her mouth drifted open.
Yeah. So now she knew that I knew she was getting flustered—over me—and it was affecting her driving. And yes, I was calling her on it.
Maybe I’d be flustered too, if I wasn’t so dead inside.
But flirting with her