Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 77171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77171 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
And her.
She’s inside, standing at the bar. She leans in slightly, body angled forward, attention fixed.
She’s talking to the bartender. Hank. I remember him. And he damned sure remembers me.
Hank pulls his shoulders in and looks out the window. I know the moment he spots the SUV. His muscles tense and he narrows his eyes.
He won’t see anything through my tinted windows.
Good.
He should be nervous.
I tap my fingers against the steering wheel.
I should go in.
I should end this now.
I should pull her out before she crosses a line she doesn’t understand.
But I don’t move.
Not yet.
Even from here, I can see the rhythm of it. She’s asking questions. Pressing him. Pushing.
She doesn’t seem to have any fear at all. That’s going to get her into trouble.
A couple minutes later, something shifts. Hank looks past her again. His posture changes. It’s subtle, but I notice. I’ve been trained to notice everything.
And worse? I feel it too.
I don’t take my eyes off the bar as I reach for my phone. “Who else is out here?” I say quietly when the line connects.
A pause.
Then—
“No one we placed.”
I tighten my grip on the phone. “Confirm?”
“We’ve confirmed. No assets in that area.”
Fuck. Who the hell else is watching Delaney? Damned good thing I followed her here.
She turns then. She sees me. Rather, she sees the SUV.
For a moment, she just looks. She doesn’t rush out the door. Instead, she turns back to Hank and continues their conversation.
This woman does not fold under pressure. She adjusts to it.
A few minutes later, she comes out.
Her pace is steady. She walks in an even rhythm that doesn’t match the tension I can see in her shoulders.
She feels it now. And she’s careful not to hurry. Not to draw attention to herself.
Good.
I watch her walk toward the lot where she parked.
A few minutes later my phone buzzes with a text.
She’s safely in her car. Looks like she’s heading home to her place.
Good, I respond. Keep eyes on her and make sure she gets there safely. I won’t be far behind. Call if her route changes.
Then I step out of the SUV and cross to the bar. Hank straightens when I walk in.
Too late.
“You talk too much,” I say.
He blinks rapidly. “I didn’t say anything that—”
I raise a hand. “You said enough.”
He snaps his mouth shut.
I hold his gaze for a second longer than necessary. “Next time,” I say, “you don’t answer any questions at all.”
He nods quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I got it.”
I don’t look at him again.
I step back out into the night. But I don’t go home.
I go to her.
Her building is quiet. There’s no real security. No meaningful deterrent. Anyone who wanted access wouldn’t have to work very hard for it.
That’s going to change.
I bypass the front entrance without slowing. By the time I reach her door, I already know she’s inside. I hear faint movement on the other side.
I knock once.
Footsteps. She’s checking me out through the peephole. Already I know she’ll open the door for me.
She does.
She’s still in the same clothes. Hair slightly out of place from the wind. Eyes sharper than they were when she left my house.
That tells me everything I need to know.
I don’t ask to come in.
I don’t need to.
I step inside.
She lets me.
Not like she has a choice, but she doesn’t yet know that.
Her place is smaller than I expected. It’s warm and homey. A guy could get comfortable here way too quickly. I’d best remember that.
I turn to face her. “You were at the marina again.”
She cocks her head. “Again?”
“Yes. Again.”
She crosses her arms. “First of all, how the hell do you know where I was? And how did you know I was there before? Are you having me followed?”
I don’t answer.
“It was you, wasn’t it? In the SUV? Watching me.”
I don’t answer again. I also don’t deny it.
Her eyes flash. “You don’t get to do that.”
I take a step toward her. “I do when you walk into something that doesn’t care if you walk back out.”
“And why should you care what I do?”
Why should I? A good question, and one I don’t have an answer for. Other than she’s already become too important to me.
I drop my gaze for a split second to her mouth. To those full lips I want so badly to kiss.
When I look back up, she’s watching me like she saw it.
I lift my hand slowly and take her wrist, settling my thumb against her pulse point.
It jumps.
She gasps, but she doesn’t pull away.
“This is your second warning,” I say quietly.
I tighten my grip on her wrist. Not enough to hurt, but to make it clear that I’m not fucking around.
She tries to yank her hand away, but my grip is too firm.
Her breath catches.
“Careful,” I say, my voice lower now. “You’re getting closer to things you won’t be able to walk away from.”