Sinner (Shelter Harbor #1)(125)

But for now, we’re co-workers. Definitely and un-confusingly coworkers. And for now, that seems to work.

But on top of everything - on top of Landon’s sudden chill, and the entire new job I’m crash course learning, I’m also getting extremely tired of hotel life. I’ve been in one since I landed back in Denver, and it’s not the glamorous life you might think it is, believe me. Instead, I’ve just ended up feeling like some sort of vagabond - homeless in this strange new city.

It might feel less like that if the one person I knew coming here wasn’t suddenly giving me the cold shoulder.

I get it, in a way. I understand what he’s doing, but it’s completely unnecessary. This isn’t high school, and I’m not some delicate little flower of a girl who needs to be “reminded” that what happened with us before was a one time thing.

Believe me, the feeling is mutual.

I can’t imagine a woman looking at a man like Landon Reece and seeing “relationship material” there. Please. The man has lifelong bachelor written all over him. He’s also the type of man who’s gorgeous enough and knows it that it’s entirely gone to his head. The perfect hair, the sculpted body, the expensive clothes and shoes and watch, the sleek, modern, ultra-masculine office decor.

All of it points to a man who’s in a relationship with exactly two things: his job, and being perpetually single. There might be girls out there who don’t see all that - girls who I’m sure are his target demographic - but I am not one of them. No, I see Landon for exactly who he is.

Cocky, arrogant, self-righteous, self-involved, and self-fulfilling.

And so, yes, I fully comprehend the ridiculousness of looking at a man like him and seeing “relationship”. But those same traits are exactly why he made the perfect one-night fling. Gorgeous, cocky, lives in another state and is completely unavailable emotionally.

Perfect. The perfect man for some much needed no-strings-attached sex.

Now, if he could only get over himself and stop thinking he has to go out of his way to “prove” to me how “aloof” and unavailable he is, we might just start getting along better.



“Okay, fuck it, I can’t.”

It’s barely lunch time when I jerk my head up from the papers strewn about my own makeshift desk. Landon tosses a pen across his and brings his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes and groaning.

“My eyes are going to start bleeding here if I keep going over this shit.”

I snort, raising a brow. “Thought this was your wheelhouse.”

He gives me a look - an almost grin. “Are you kidding me? This is easily five times the shit I usually deal with.”

I frown. “And here you were making me feel like I had to ‘catch up’ to your level?”

He grins. “Mutual motivation.”

“Dick.”

He winks as he reaches for his desk phone. “I’m going to call in some lunch. You want anything?”



We push papers aside when his burger and my cobb salad come, and I dig in, not even realizing how starving I was until I do.

“You mind if I catch the highlights?”

Landon nods his chin at the TV on the shelf across the room.

“Not at all.”

Sports talk fills the room as I take another bite of my salad before pulling out my tablet and pulling up the listings website I was looking at the night before.

I seriously need to move out of my stupid hotel. I need a permanent place to call home, even if it ends up being for only another few weeks.

“What’s Washington Park like?”

Landon looks up from the TV. “Fine, I guess? For what?”

“For living,” I shrug, looking back at the website.

“Jesus, you’re still in a hotel aren’t you.”

I look back up and make a face, and his jaw tightens.

“You know what, let’s go.”

“Go?”

“Yeah, I can’t look at this damn paperwork anymore today anyways or I’m going to lose my damn mind.”

I grin, raising a brow as he takes a final bite of his burger and stands from his desk.

“C’mon, I’ll be your chauffeur.”

“For?”

“For getting you out of a hotel like a shut-in and finding you an actual place. Besides,” he shrugs and grins, “you’re going to be one of the richest women in Denver in a few weeks, right? Seems we should get you a place befitting of that.”

Ten minutes later, we’re driving through the city while Landon calls a real estate friend of his.

It’s surreal, and kind of hilarious. A month ago, I was avoiding getting the mail for fear of student loan collections. But by three o’clock that afternoon, I’ve toured four different multi-million-dollar penthouse condos, discussing cash offer incentives.