The reporters retreat to a safe distance to avoid being run over, and none of them attempt to follow us inside the front gate. I know because I never take my eyes off the rearview mirror until the gate shuts with a clang behind us. Only then do I turn to Vonn.
“Vonn, why are there a bunch of reporters at the gate?”
“Nash decided what he wanted to do with his dad’s diary,” he explains.
“And that thing involved reporters?” I ask, confused.
Makhi beat us to the house, but I knew he would. He took off like a bullet from a gun. I don’t know how he got past the reporters, and a part of me doesn’t want to ask. Vonn is the serious, patient one. It is far too easy to envision Makhi driving at the reporters in a game of chicken, forcing them to move.
He’s parked his bike near the front door and sits perched on the seat, though not astride it. His helmet is on the ground beside his feet with his arms crossed. He briefly uncrosses them to flash a smug smile and give us a cheery wave.
I look at him, and I cannot believe I had sex with him in a bush on the side of a road in broad daylight after someone shot at us.
The state of my panties are… messy. I probably smell of sex, and I do not feel as much shame as I should for having sex in public.
If it had happened soon after they brought me back from New Mexico, I’d assume I was suffering from heat stroke from hours wandering in the desert. But no. I knewexactlywhat I was doing as I eagerly shoved my sweatpants down to my knees, not the least bit concerned about having sex at such a stupid time.
If we’d been in a horror movie, we for sure would have been the first ones to be taken out by the masked killer. We’d have deserved it too.
Makhi is handsome, I’ll give him that, and Iamattracted to him, but that is just not normal behavior, right?
“Insane,” I mutter under my breath.
“Makhi’s driving?” Vonn says with a smile as he cuts the engine.
“Me.” I unbuckle my seatbelt. “A bush. Someone shooting at us. Sex.”
I turn to open my door, but Vonn’s soft, “hey,” makes me twist to face him.
He’s unbuckled his seatbelt and is looking at me with the same intensity he always does. Like no one exists in the world but me.
“I’ve lost count of the times I’ve considered wringing Makhi’s scrawny neck,” he says. “But I will happily wring it if he pushed you into something you weren’t ready for.”
“I can hear you,” Makhi calls out. “And my neck is actually not that scrawny. It’s not fat or anything, but it’s definitely not scrawny.”
We both ignore him.
“He didn’t push. I just stopped using my brain.” Knowing Makhi’s listening, I add, “He must be rubbing off on me.”
“Still hear you,” Makhi yells even louder, irritation creeping into his voice. “Just in case you thought I couldn’t, I can. Might wanna wind that window up. Sound carries.”
A muscle in Vonn’s jaw twitches, and I bite the inside of my cheek to contain my smile. “Thanks, Vonn.”
“For?”
“Always being what I need.” I kiss him. “And I still have your dog tags. I keep waiting for you to ask for them back.”
Probably before someone kills me, because it’s twice now that it’s nearly happened.
He kisses me. “You keep a hold of it for strength. What I get from you is so much sweeter.”
Every word out of this man’s mouth makes me melt.
“I’m very lucky to have you,” I say, cupping his stubbled jaw, and he leans into my touch.
“I’m the lucky one, darlin’.” He brushes his lips against mine. Ending the kiss too fast, he whispers loudly in my ear, “Want me to put my foot on the accelerator and pretend it was an accident?”
I laugh.
