Page 57 of Sin

“You’re very lucky this bread is excellent,” I say.

The waitress returns to take our orders, and I am grateful for the interruption until Mason orders in flawless Italian and the waitress blushes.

When she leaves, Tate says, “Well, this trip should be fun.”

I point at him. “Do not use that word.”

“What word? Trip?”

“Fun.”

“Amsterdam is fun.”

“This is work.”

Mason’s eyes meet mine.

“Yes,” he says. “It is.”

There’s nothing suggestive in the words. Nothing obvious. Which somehow makes them worse. Because I know he remembers the truck and telling me anything could happen and no one would know. And now I’m supposed to fly across an ocean with him, attend an adult product show, discuss Lust and Pride in public, and then return to a hotel room that is supposedly separate from his, and do all of it like my imagination will respect a floor plan.

I reach for the wine.

Tate raises his glass. “To Amsterdam.”

Mason lifts his glass, eyes on mine. “To the Sins line.”

I stare at him. Then, because I am weak and annoyed and apparently determined to make my own life harder, I pick up my glass too.

“To professional boundaries,” I say.

Tate snorts, but Mason’s gaze doesn’t leave mine.

“To testing them,” he says softly.

My glass pauses halfway to my mouth as the words slide under my skin, hot and slow. Tate looks between us, smile fading just enough to tell me he heard it too. I take a sip of wine. Then another.

Amsterdam.

Alone with Mason Sinclair.

At a product show for sex toys.

I thought the truck was dangerous. Apparently, it was just the preview.

10

Laurel

I find out the Amsterdam trip is in a week when I get back to the office and check my email. One week. Seven days. Actually, six and a half if I want to be dramatic. Which I do.

It’s all there in neat, professional bullet points. Travel arrangements on the company jet. Expo times. Presentation schedule. Retailer meetings. Press walk-throughs. The hotel we’ll be staying at. When we land. When we leave. When we’re expected to be charming in front of international buyers who want to hear words like innovation and consumer experience instead of what we actually mean, which is this toy will make you see God if we engineered it correctly. There’s even a section marked Downtime.

Downtime. As if that word doesn’t become a felony when attached to Mason Sinclair and Amsterdam.

I click through the itinerary twice. It’s all very polished. Very clean. Very corporate. A business trip. That’s all. Just two executives traveling to represent a product line. No big deal.

Except I can still hear Mason’s voice in his truck.