Page 7 of Fletch

“I mean for the recovery.”

I scoff. “It’s right outside.”

“Still . . . if it don’t start, I gotta pay to have it moved onto the forecourt.”

“You’re taking the piss,” I hiss.

“Like you were last night when you looked at me, begging me to kiss you.”

I frown. “I was not.”

He grins. “You forget, Snap, I know every inch of you, and I know what you wanted last night.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Are you kidding me?” I snap, stepping closer to the counter and slamming my hands on top to fix him with a glare. “You didn’t even recognise me last night, so you don’t know every inch of me, not anymore.”

“You’re right,” he admits, “we should fix that.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my shoulders out again to try and get rid of the tension building there. “Look, Fletch, can you fix my car or not? If you’re going to be a dick about it, I’ll find someone else.”

He shrugs. “Fine, take care.”

I clench my jaw tightly. “But it would be easier if you could help me out.”

“Tell you what, Snap . . .” I watch as he lifts the partition in the counter and steps through. “I’ll make you a deal.” I swallow hard as he fills my space, and I instinctively lower my eyes to the floor. I don’t know why he makes me feel so nervous. I haven’t felt butterflies in my stomach since . . . him. I sigh out loud. Fletch places his finger under my chin, and I inhale sharply at the contact. He lifts my head so I have no choice but to look him in the eye.

“I’ll look at your car today and drop the recovery charge if you meet me later.” I’m already shaking my head and thinking up a hundred reasons why I should refuse. “No one needs to know,” he adds. “I just wanna catch up with you. Hell, bring the fiancé if it makes you feel better.” I almost laugh at the thought of Peter meeting Fletch. He’d think I was having a mental breakdown.

“Fine. Where?” He grins, pulling out his mobile and looking at me expectantly. “I’m not giving you my number,” I say, this time unable to stop the small laugh that escapes me. “Do you know how bad that will look, how any of this will look?” I take a step back, allowing my brain to kick in and rescue me. “Eight o’ clock at Miller’s Barn Bar. A minute late and I’m gone,” I say firmly.

He smirks again, and this time, it irritates me. “I only needed your number for the records,” he says, nodding towards the book on the desk. “So we can call you when the car is ready.”

Embarrassment creeps up over my cheeks, but I give a slight nod, snatching his mobile and quickly inputting my number. “Fine. There.” I hand it back. “For car discussions only.”

He bites his lower lip, that smile still in place. “Of course. Tonight, eight.”

Three

Fletch

Luna gently rocks Ivy in her arms, and I allow my eyes to run down her body, remembering how those tanned legs looked wrapped around me. I give my head a shake, and she glances up. “So, is it a real date or just fake?”

I take a sip of my whiskey. “Fake. Why the fuck would I want to date a copper?”

“You’re dressed smart,” she remarks, smirking.

I glance down at the plain black T-shirt that clings to my toned chest. It’s one of many I own, but they’re always hidden under my kutte, which for one night only, I’ve hung up at Grizz’s command. I don’t want to draw extra attention to Gemma and spook her before I’ve had a chance to work my magic. “I need her to take me seriously.”

“Sure,” she says, winking. “And there’s not a small part of you hoping to get laid.”

I laugh. “Been there, done that, and if I remember right, she wasn’t that great.” It’s a lie I’ve told myself to stop me wanting her. Cos since she strolled into The Bar last night, she’s all I’ve thought about.

“Shouldn’t you be dating a pig right about now?” snaps Grizz as he crosses the room towards us, wrapping his arm protectively around Luna. She smiles up at him with complete love, and I want to smack him upside the head for thinking she’d ever look in my direction when she’s completely smitten with him.

I push to stand. “Just on my way, VP.”

Miller’s Barn is in a quieter part of town, and when I step inside, I spot Gemma seated towards the back nursing a glass of lemonade. I roll my eyes and head for the bar to order two whiskeys.

When I sit down and place one of them in front of her, she startles. “Hey,” I say, smiling and nodding at the drink. “Peace offering?”