Loose and Easy Read Online Free PDF

out of left field.
    It happened.
    And given what he’d already seen tonight, Esme Alden owned the lease on left field.
Geezus.
The German in the Oxford had been strapped into a leather thong, and she’d leashed him to the bed—short-leashed. No wonder the guy had sounded a little strained.
    Walk away,
a voice in his head said.
Back up,
chingaleto.
Get your ass down the stairs and back out on the street.
    He knew that voice. He’d heard it hundreds of times. It was the voice of reason, and he was a reasonable guy.
    And yet he didn’t budge an inch. He stayed right where he was and continued watching her.
    She shrugged into the black jacket, slipped on a pair of black high heels, and changed her jewelry. He could hear the murmuring of the answering machine running through its messages.
    Busy girl,
he thought.
    A little black suit, “catch me, fuck me” heels, and a string of pearls—she looked good. Damn good.
    Too good for him to walk away. She was Esme Alden, the hot crush of his teenage years, and he’d just seen her in red lace panties and a push-up bra. No guy was walking away from that.
    He raised his hand again and knocked.
             
    Geezus.
Esme’s heart damn near stopped. Then it occurred to her that it was probably Pete at the door with his pizza, coming over to share.
    Geezus.
She took a breath and finished putting the last bobby pin in her sleek new twist before turning off the light and stepping to the edge of the bathroom door.
    Peeking around the side, she noted a couple of things right off the bat: They needed better lighting in the hall, and it wasn’t Pete standing out there.
    Picking her phone back up and slipping it into the pocket on her skirt, she looked back to the office door. She couldn’t see the guy very clearly through the window, but she could see the outline of his body, and she was guessing five feet ten, maybe five eleven. Pete topped out at five six, and with years of Friday night pizza under his belt, he was as big around as he was tall.
    This guy was long, lean, and broad through the shoulders. He was also unknown and unexpected, two things she didn’t take any chances with under the best of circumstances. Tonight hardly qualified for the best of anything except pure, unadulterated trouble.
    Crap.
Walking quietly and quickly across the room, she stopped to hit the off button on the answering machine, and then she made a beeline for the back office. Tucked into the end of the hall, Bainbridge’s old lair made the short end of the “L” of the two-office suite. From the window in his private entrance, she’d have a clear view of who was standing in the hallway.
    An advantage that proved unnecessary when the man knocked again.
    “Esme? Hey, it’s John Ramos.”
    She stumbled to a stop and whirled around to stare at the door.
Geezo freakin’ crap. John Ramos? Johnny Ramos?
The name registered instantly, along with a face.
    “From East High School. We graduated together.”
    Totally unnecessary information. She hadn’t forgotten Johnny Ramos, oh, hell, no. Not in this lifetime, she wouldn’t.
    “I, uh, heard you were working with your dad now. Thought I’d drop by and see if you could help me with a problem,” he said from outside in the hall.
    Good God. Johnny freakin’ Ramos. Out in the hall.
    Of course, out in the hall. Hell, he’d spent half his life out in the hall, especially at Campbell Junior High, especially during seventh-grade social studies class. She’d gotten sent out in the hall with him once, her one and only time in the hall ever, the two of them put there to “work things out,” and her poor little thirteen-year-old heart had barely survived the experience.
    Ms. Trent had banished them to a pair of desks on either side of the doorway, leaving a bare three feet between them, thirty-six inches, not enough distance to insulate Esme from Johnny’s dark-eyed gaze and the heat that seemed to come out of nowhere and slam into her whenever their