A Perfect Storm
Page 44
After a final long look, he rolled up to take his turn at paying for and collecting the food.
She stewed in silence while he got his change and then pulled away.
Though he kept stealing quick glances at her, he drove in silence, saying nothing for the longest time. That annoyed her, too, and finally she couldn’t take it. “You realize you’re playing the Neanderthal, right?”
He pulled into the park, which was all but deserted this time of the day. “And you’re being naive.”
“Ha!” That had to be a joke. “How naive can I be after—”
“Damn it to hell, Arizona!” After jerking the truck into an isolated area and parking, he turned to face her. “Don’t say it.”
Whoa. He looked really pissed, and that surprised her, but oddly, it sort of amused her. Putting on an innocent face, she asked, “Say what?”
He opened his seat belt and leaned toward her. “Don’t put yourself down. Don’t throw up your past as an excuse to put yourself in danger. And don’t use the things that were forced on you as a way to demean yourself.”
“Yeah, uh, the demeaning was forced on me—like you said.”
His hand slashed the air. “And that’s over. That’s not who you are.” His gaze raked her body. “This isn’t who you are.”
A slow burn started. She opened her seat belt, too, and leaned into his anger.
Anger on her behalf.
“Actually, it’s exactly who I am.” He started to speak, but she knotted a hand in his shirt and gave him a yank. “I am a vigilante, Spence. Get used to it.”
“No.”
“I’m strong and I’m smart,” she added. “And my plan is not dumb.”
Something glittered in his eyes. Taunting her, he said, “You can’t even bear to have me kiss you. What the hell will you do when a stranger gets hold of you?”
Her attention went to his mouth. Was he thinking about kissing her again? “You’re the one spewing taboo words.”
Frustration escalating, he took her wrist, making her hold on his shirt redundant. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She locked gazes with him and took great pleasure in saying, “I haven’t cussed, but you have.”
“So? I already agreed to take you to Jackson’s wedding.” He shook his head. “And stop changing the subject.”
“I will. Just as soon as I find out what your new penalty will be. After all, you’ve cussed twice. So I should get something, right?”
Time stretched out, and new tension filled the air. “What do you want?”
She was starting to want…a lot of things. Unusual things. Things she thought she’d never again accept, much less crave. His warm breath teased her mouth; she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.
Dragging in a shuddering breath, she whispered, “I can bear it.”
“You’re confusing the hell out of me, honey.”
Nothing new there. Around Spencer, she even confused herself. “When you kiss me,” she spelled out. “I can bear it.”
His thumb moved over the pulse in her wrist. “The way I’ve kissed you is not what I’m talking about.”
“I know.” She rolled a shoulder. “But tonight will be a starting point, a get-to-know-you period. Odds are they’ll just check the boundaries, to see how much they can get away with.”
“And if someone pushes past your comfort zone?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
He lifted her knuckles to his mouth, doing more of his specialized kissing, then put his forehead to hers. “Truthfully, Arizona, I have no doubt you can pull this off.”
Matching his whisper, she said, “Then what’s the problem?”
“If Terry Janes touches you, if he even looks at you funny, I might have to take him apart.” He stole a soft kiss from her mouth, taking her by surprise, then settled back into his seat. “And that’s a problem.”
That quick, sweet smooch left her temporarily dazed. He’d done that so casually, as if they’d kissed a million times, and it took a moment for his words to sink in. She skipped past most of what he’d said—Spencer would be a professional, she had no doubt about that—to focus on the name he’d just given. “Terry Janes?”
“I told you the bar was already on Trace’s radar.”
No way. A little numb, she asked, “Terry is the guy running things? The tatted guy I already noticed?”
Spencer nodded. “He works the place. We don’t know yet who’s running the show, though.”
She really, really wanted to slug him. “And you just now thought to tell me this?”
“You,” he said, leaning toward her again, “snuck out on me. Otherwise we’d have hashed all this out after my shower.”
Her fist trembled.
“Do it.” Challenge, and something more, darkened his eyes. “I dare you.”
It was soooo tempting to wipe that smirk off his face…but no. Why give him what he wanted?
“I should. I could.” She checked a fingernail, the epitome of indifference. “But I’m not in my kick-ass clothes, and we have business later, so I can’t get mussed. I’m remembering our purpose for being here, even if you aren’t.”
“It’d be tough to forget with you dressed like that.”
He did seem hung up on her clothes. Arizona held her arms out to her sides and looked down at herself. “It’s tame compared to what the traffickers had me wear. I wasn’t sure if it was racy enough, but given how you keep going on, I guess it’s appropriate.”
She stewed in silence while he got his change and then pulled away.
Though he kept stealing quick glances at her, he drove in silence, saying nothing for the longest time. That annoyed her, too, and finally she couldn’t take it. “You realize you’re playing the Neanderthal, right?”
He pulled into the park, which was all but deserted this time of the day. “And you’re being naive.”
“Ha!” That had to be a joke. “How naive can I be after—”
“Damn it to hell, Arizona!” After jerking the truck into an isolated area and parking, he turned to face her. “Don’t say it.”
Whoa. He looked really pissed, and that surprised her, but oddly, it sort of amused her. Putting on an innocent face, she asked, “Say what?”
He opened his seat belt and leaned toward her. “Don’t put yourself down. Don’t throw up your past as an excuse to put yourself in danger. And don’t use the things that were forced on you as a way to demean yourself.”
“Yeah, uh, the demeaning was forced on me—like you said.”
His hand slashed the air. “And that’s over. That’s not who you are.” His gaze raked her body. “This isn’t who you are.”
A slow burn started. She opened her seat belt, too, and leaned into his anger.
Anger on her behalf.
“Actually, it’s exactly who I am.” He started to speak, but she knotted a hand in his shirt and gave him a yank. “I am a vigilante, Spence. Get used to it.”
“No.”
“I’m strong and I’m smart,” she added. “And my plan is not dumb.”
Something glittered in his eyes. Taunting her, he said, “You can’t even bear to have me kiss you. What the hell will you do when a stranger gets hold of you?”
Her attention went to his mouth. Was he thinking about kissing her again? “You’re the one spewing taboo words.”
Frustration escalating, he took her wrist, making her hold on his shirt redundant. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She locked gazes with him and took great pleasure in saying, “I haven’t cussed, but you have.”
“So? I already agreed to take you to Jackson’s wedding.” He shook his head. “And stop changing the subject.”
“I will. Just as soon as I find out what your new penalty will be. After all, you’ve cussed twice. So I should get something, right?”
Time stretched out, and new tension filled the air. “What do you want?”
She was starting to want…a lot of things. Unusual things. Things she thought she’d never again accept, much less crave. His warm breath teased her mouth; she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.
Dragging in a shuddering breath, she whispered, “I can bear it.”
“You’re confusing the hell out of me, honey.”
Nothing new there. Around Spencer, she even confused herself. “When you kiss me,” she spelled out. “I can bear it.”
His thumb moved over the pulse in her wrist. “The way I’ve kissed you is not what I’m talking about.”
“I know.” She rolled a shoulder. “But tonight will be a starting point, a get-to-know-you period. Odds are they’ll just check the boundaries, to see how much they can get away with.”
“And if someone pushes past your comfort zone?”
“I’ll figure it out.”
He lifted her knuckles to his mouth, doing more of his specialized kissing, then put his forehead to hers. “Truthfully, Arizona, I have no doubt you can pull this off.”
Matching his whisper, she said, “Then what’s the problem?”
“If Terry Janes touches you, if he even looks at you funny, I might have to take him apart.” He stole a soft kiss from her mouth, taking her by surprise, then settled back into his seat. “And that’s a problem.”
That quick, sweet smooch left her temporarily dazed. He’d done that so casually, as if they’d kissed a million times, and it took a moment for his words to sink in. She skipped past most of what he’d said—Spencer would be a professional, she had no doubt about that—to focus on the name he’d just given. “Terry Janes?”
“I told you the bar was already on Trace’s radar.”
No way. A little numb, she asked, “Terry is the guy running things? The tatted guy I already noticed?”
Spencer nodded. “He works the place. We don’t know yet who’s running the show, though.”
She really, really wanted to slug him. “And you just now thought to tell me this?”
“You,” he said, leaning toward her again, “snuck out on me. Otherwise we’d have hashed all this out after my shower.”
Her fist trembled.
“Do it.” Challenge, and something more, darkened his eyes. “I dare you.”
It was soooo tempting to wipe that smirk off his face…but no. Why give him what he wanted?
“I should. I could.” She checked a fingernail, the epitome of indifference. “But I’m not in my kick-ass clothes, and we have business later, so I can’t get mussed. I’m remembering our purpose for being here, even if you aren’t.”
“It’d be tough to forget with you dressed like that.”
He did seem hung up on her clothes. Arizona held her arms out to her sides and looked down at herself. “It’s tame compared to what the traffickers had me wear. I wasn’t sure if it was racy enough, but given how you keep going on, I guess it’s appropriate.”
