All or Nothing by Dee Tenorio Page A

wanting to take any more time than necessary, she dried off with only a ragged pat-down. She was too busy trying to rustle up her temper to acknowledge her terror at being cornered. He had no right to be there uninvited. He had no right coming when he knew she didn’t want him there. He simply had no rights at all.
    She stomped into a pair of coveralls, yanked on a worn pink tank top that had seen enough bleach to make it good for summer work and wrapped a bandana over her wet hair to keep it out of her face. By the time she had her work boots secure, she was fantasizing about introducing him to the steel toe. He probably didn’t hear her rumbling down the steps, but he damn sure heard her when she exited the bay doors to the open yard beyond with her hands on her hips and the fire of hell in her lungs.
    “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
    “You don’t want to be pushing my buttons right now, Belle,” he answered in typical growl mode, not bothering to look at her.
    She scoffed, watching him pick up an abandoned sink from the back of the ancient Mazda flatbed she used for junking and take it to a pile of other midsized items. He was in cut-off gray sweat shorts and tennis shoes. His T-shirt was off, one end tucked into his back waistband, leaving all that warm honey skin open to her viewing pleasure. Mad or not, it was a pleasure to look at him, especially since he was already slick.
    “You’re in my yard, Lonnigan. I can push any button I damn well please.”
    He ignored her. He actually ignored her. A few pieces of pipe got thrown into the small pipe pile, making the puppy yelp as he hopped to avoid things being lobbed all around. He wasn’t in any danger, but she could tell by his darting eyes and tucked tail, he didn’t know that.
    Against her better judgment, she bit her inwardly cupped lower lip and whistled. “Over here, Sparky, before your daddy kills you.”
    The pup was grateful, running awkwardly on huge paws, but if the suddenly flying wheel rims were any indication, Lucas wasn’t.
    “I didn’t ask you to do this.” Not that she ever did. She had a deal with the local junker to take a truckload of sortables off his hands each month. Lucas always showed up on sort day to load up her truck at the junkyard and unload it in her metal yard. It was just one other thing she’d have to learn to do without him. She hadn’t had the energy to do it since their “date”. Hard to believe it happened less than a week ago.
    She circled the truck, putting her hand on the bed wall while he reached in for another sink. He dragged it toward himself, every muscle in his arms and torso flexing with the effort and all but knocking the wind out of her.
    Huffing, she grabbed the edge of the sink and tugged it her way. “Stop. I don’t want you to do this.”
    “This isn’t about you,” he bit out. He wouldn’t even look at her, but his leather gloves made a loud noise as he tightened his grip.
    “Like hell it isn’t.”
    “What I mean is that I don’t care what you want, Belle.” He yanked the sink out of her grasp, hefted it onto his shoulder and walked away with it.
    She stayed there, her mouth open in shock while he crossed to her piles and dumped it unceremoniously next to the last one. He walked back, his eyes narrow in the morning sunlight but flaring with brilliant color anyway. Rage made him dangerous. She could sense the ripple of power under his control, feel the energy crackling through him. Her response to it felt elemental, like a magnet being drawn to a far more powerful source. She held the truck wall tighter to keep from going to him, despite the fact that he wasn’t even looking at her to beckon her. In fact, he was looking everywhere but at her. Which only angered her more.
    “Lucas!” She felt his attention shift to her even if his eyes didn’t. “What part of go away is hard for you to understand?”
    He flexed his hands inside the work gloves. Open once. Close once. Open