She Can Kill (She Can Series) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the passenger window. Draping his wrists over the steering wheel, he twisted his heavy school ring, the same ring that had made solid contact with her head five months before. Sarah touched the scar on her temple, her fingers tracing the small indentation. Troy’s gaze caught hers, and a smug half smile turned up the corner of his mouth. Sarah tensed as he got out of the pickup.
    The girls popped out of the backseat like toast and raced toward her. Pushing the irate dog firmly back into the house, Sarah went out onto the stoop to greet Alex and Em. The girls ran up the driveway, and she crouched to hug them both. Holding their little bodies close, she breathed in the scents of sweat and No More Tangles. They were OK. Relief swept through her. “Go on inside. Don’t let the dog out.”
    They went into the house. Alex pulled the storm door closed just as Bandit’s feet hit the glass, muffling the dog’s angry barks.
    “Did everything go all right?” She’d be pleasant to him if it killed her.
    “Fine.” Troy took a step toward her. “But you have to stop spoiling them.”
    Sarah didn’t respond, but feigning confidence, she widened her stance and stretched her head toward the sky. Do not back down.
    “I’m serious, Sarah. Alex is defiant, and Emma cries all the freaking time.” Troy stopped. Irritation and indecision flickered in his eyes.
    Sarah clamped her molars together. What was she going to say? She doubted he’d be receptive to the truth. Your children are afraid of you. “What time will you pick them up on Thursday?”
    “Same as today.” Troy scowled, but he turned toward his truck.
    “See you then.” Sarah backed toward the house, praying he left before her babysitter—and her hot father—arrived. But she was destined to have the worst luck in the universe. At that very same moment, Cristan Rojas turned down her street and parked behind Troy’s truck.
    One more minute and Troy would have been gone.
    Lucia leaped from the car and loped across the grass on long legs. “Hi, Sarah.”
    “Hi, Lucia,” Sarah said. “You can go on in.”
    Cristan climbed out of his Mercedes and leaned on the closed door, his phone pressed to his ear, his eyes following Troy as he got into his pickup. Tension between the men was palpable in the chilly air, which was ridiculous because Sarah wasn’t involved with either of them.
    Troy pulled away from the curb. The moment the pickup disappeared around the corner, Cristan started toward Sarah. His athletic body was encased in jeans and a black wool coat that pegged him as foreign in a town where everyone else wore down and flannel. She tamped down the pleasure that sparked inside her as he walked up the driveway.
    “Hello, Sarah.” His smile softened otherwise hard features. He was dark and Latin, and the only thing sexier than his lean, chiseled face was his faint, slightly formal, accent. And Sarah realized she was staring. Again. Why did that always happen with him? She blinked and cleared her throat.
    “Hello,” she said. “Thanks for waiting. I don’t know what he’d do if he saw you come into the house.” Jealousy, no matter how unfounded, would make Troy even angrier.
    “I know you wish to avoid provoking him.” But the flash of anger in Cristan’s eyes said he would welcome a confrontation with Troy. Fortunately, Cristan possessed the self-control of a monk. His voice never rose above a carefully modulated pitch, and he gave both his actions and words careful consideration. But under that steely control, his posture always suggested that he could explode in an instant.
    “I just want what’s best for the girls. Their needs have to come first.”
    “Of course.” His expression relaxed with understanding and compassion. He was a widower and single father, and she had to admit that the bond between Cristan and his daughter was just as attractive as his dark eyes and broad shoulders.
    “Thank you for understanding.”
    He acknowledged her comment