And she had to admit, if she passed this class, that would make her Dad happier.

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Now, work through it out loud,” he repeated.

Clarisse did what he said.

Fin caught where she was going wrong. He had to explain it three times through the next three problems but finally, she got it.

He moved to his English Comp homework but when he checked her work, she got only one wrong. And she’d worked through fourteen questions.

Clarisse thought everything about Fin Holliday was awesome.

Now she knew he was more awesome than awesome.

She didn’t know what that was. She just knew Fin was it.

*

Mike hit the button to disconnect his phone call from Dusty and looked across the desk at Tanner Layne but the question came from his side.

“Whipped?”

Mike turned and his eyes hit the huge, bald, muscled, tattooed, tank top in February wearing, scarily grinning Ryker seated at his side.

“Absolutely.”

The scary grin turned into an ugly smile.

Then Ryker announced with a jerk of his head toward Tanner, “His woman tells my woman she bakes great cakes.”

Mike did not want to do this with Cal.

He definitely didn’t want to do this with Ryker.

Therefore, he stated low and firm, “We’re not doing this.”

Ryker’s grin went satanic.

Jesus.

“Ryker, a little focus?” Tanner thankfully called from across his desk in his office where they were sitting and Ryker’s eyes cut to him. “McGrath?” Tanner prompted.

“I spill, I get cake,” Ryker declared, jerking his head to Mike. “Made by his woman.”

“Done,” Mike replied. “Now, McGrath.”

Ryker looked at him.

Then he laid it out. “He wants that farm, they’re f**ked. Go to your woman, tell her and her family to pack their bags. They’re gone.”

Shit, shit, f**k.

“Explain,” Mike growled.

“He’s got ways. He’s got means. His business doesn’t cross my business so I don’t give a f**k. I go my own way. That don’t mean I don’t hear shit,” Ryker explained.

“And what do you hear?” Mike asked.

“That McGrath’s got ways and means,” Ryker answered.

Mike drew in breath, patience eluding him. He searched for it and with effort found it.

Then he asked, “Is he the front man?”

“Dunno. Don’t care enough to know.”

Tanner stepped in at this juncture. “I think, me askin’ you to sit here with Mike, you knowin’ the deal, you get that Mike cares enough to know.”

Ryker looked at Tanner. “Like I said, bro, I don’t know this guy. I don’t know, I stick my nose in, how he’ll feel about that. I stick my nose in, he gets unhappy in a way it ain’t worth cake, I’m unhappy.”

“Tellin’ me he’s got ways and means doesn’t buy cake, Ryker,” Mike told him and Ryker’s eyes came back to him.

“Then sweeten the deal.”

“Name it,” Mike offered and Ryker’s stare got intense.

Then he muttered, “Whipped.”

“Two boys with a dead Dad, a checked out Mom and a legacy they’re powerless to protect,” Mike returned. “You want cake, you want ten f**kin’ cakes, Dusty’ll bake ‘em. She grew up there, her Dad grew up there, her Dad’s Dad and she wants her nephew to work that land primarily because he wants that. We already established I’m whipped. Got no problem with that considering how that’s come about puts me in a good mood. What doesn’t is this bullshit. You can help, you jump in. You want to hold a marker, you got it. You want payback, you name it. You can’t help, don’t waste my f**kin’ time.”

Ryker continued to stare at him intensely.

Then he kept muttering to say, “Think I underestimated you.”

“Brother, anyone who doesn’t wear a tank top and carry a knife, you underestimate. Jesus,” Tanner clipped. “Stop yankin’ Mike’s chain. You in or out?”

Ryker studied Tanner then his bald head swung Mike’s way and he studied him.

Then he said, “Two boys with a dead Dad, one of ‘em’s the shit at playin’ ball, this makes me feel generous. But I get cake. And I need you, I call on you. Firepower without the badge. You with me?”

Shit, shit, f**k.

Mike took a deep breath focusing on sandwiches in bed that never included sandwiches.

“You with me?” Ryker prompted.

Mike held his eyes and replied low, “You call your marker, you burn me, I burn you.”

“Fair enough,” Ryker muttered.

“Then we got a deal,” Mike declared.

Ryker grinned. Again it was satanic.

Shit, shit, f**k.

*

It was ten to nine. It was dark. It was cold. Winter was dying, spring on its heels, the temperature was rising but the chill was still sharp.

And Fin shouldn’t do what he was going to do. He shouldn’t do it. Her Dad was a cop. Her Dad would be looking out. If her Dad caught them, he would get way pissed.

But he was going to do it.

She’d let him in, his Reesee. A little bit and then more and then more since her birthday party but today she gave it away.

She didn’t know how to work it. She was shy.

He liked that. He liked that someone as pretty as her could be shy. She could have any boy eating out of her hand and she had no clue.

No f**king clue.

Yeah, he liked that.

So he was going to do it.

And he did.

They were at her back gate and she turned to him probably to say good-bye.

He didn’t let her. He took a big step back, his hand already in hers giving it a tug. She wasn’t expecting it and lost her footing, fell into him.

He liked that too. She wasn’t expecting it.

Fuck, he was going to be her first kiss.

God, he liked that too.

Never having done it, not even knowing why he did, he lifted a hand to cup her jaw, using it to tilt her face to his.

He caught the surprise in her eyes even in the moonlight.

Yes. He was going to be her first kiss.

He dropped his mouth to hers.

She got stiff, he felt it and powered through it.

Never having done it, not even knowing why he did, he slid his hand from her jaw into her hair.

Jesus, it was soft and so f**king thick.

He touched his tongue to her lips.

Probably in surprise, they opened.

He slid his tongue inside.

She made a little noise in her throat.