“I’m not most people, Viking. You scare me,” she admitted.
He jerked back, letting his arms drop to his sides. “I’d never hurt you.”
She reached out, touching his bicep. “I don’t mean like that. Physically, I trust you. I wouldn’t have invited you into my home if I didn’t. But in here,”—she placed his hand over her heart— “in here is a completely different story.”
He moved back between her legs, cradling her face between his hands. “Who hurt you, Jinx?”
She shook her head. “Don’t,” she whispered.
“Okay. Not yet, but we’ll get there.” He silenced her protests with a kiss, sliding his tongue between her lips, tasting the minty freshness of her toothpaste. He pulled back, sucking her full bottom lip into his mouth, and then released it.
“You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?” she asked, giving his chest a little shove.
He pulled her to him and spun. Her legs went around his waist as he walked them toward the mudroom. “I’m a lawyer by trade. Negotiations are my thing. To answer your question: yes, I am used to getting my way because I like winning. People pay me to win. When I have a job or a situation, I go in, figure out what I’m facing, sort out the issues, and go from there. My motto is that if there’s a problem, there’s an answer.”
He settled her onto the floor next to the boot warmer that held hers. Of course, there was a massive closet that could have a dozen boots and coats inside for all he knew, but he figured she’d still need to sit down to tug a pair on.
“Not every problem is that easy to solve, Bekkett. Sometimes, you have to walk away from shit because it’s the only way to survive.” She sat down on the bench and began pulling her boots on without looking at him.
In that instant, Viking realized she and he were more alike than either was aware. He’d walked away from his family and found a chosen one to surviveanother day. When he’d lost his daughter, he’d wanted to crawl into her tiny casket with her. Hell, if he could’ve, he’d have given his life ten times over for her. Life didn’t work that way, though.
“Sometimes surviving is harder than dying,” he murmured.
“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” she agreed.
They finished putting on their shoes and coats, then he led her back out to his truck. He’d had the foresight to hit the AutoStart, so they’d have a warm vehicle to get into, but her driveway had gotten a little slicker as the sun went down. He kept his arm around her, guiding her toward the passenger side.
“Too bad you don’t have a bench seat. I could snuggle up next to you during the drive,” Jinx commented once they got on the road into town.
It was the first thing either said, breaking the silence that descended between them.
“Hell, if this had been a bench seat, I’d have probably pulled over during the drive earlier and made out with you like a teenage boy on his first date. It would’ve been embarrassing to get busted by the local police with a hard-on and my girl half naked next to me.”
She snorted. “Who says I’d have been half naked?”
He reached over, grabbing her hand and lacing their fingers. “Ssh, this is my story.”
Viking brought their hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I like the way you smell.”
“If you could see me right now, you’d see I was blushing.”
“I’m picturing you in my mind right now.” He knew his voice was a low rumble and didn’t give a fuck.
She laughed, squeezing his hand. “Stop picturing me naked.”
Again, he pulled their hands to his lips. This time, he pressed her palm over his mouth and kissed the center, then licked it, making her gasp and laugh harder. “No can do. Already in my head. What color are your knickers?”
“First of all, ew. Don’t lick my hand. Second, double ew. Who says knickers? I wear panties like any self-righteous woman should.”
He winked over at her. “Good to know about the second, but the first, I can’t swear I won’t ever lickyou again. You see, I find myself particularly drawn to your taste.”
She leaned her head against the window, sighing. “You are a strange man, Bekkett Larsen.”
“I’ve heard that before, Miss Jinx.” He released her hand as they pulled into the diner next to her pickup truck.
“Blair. My name is Blair,” she blurted.
“Blair,” he repeated. With one arm resting on the steering wheel, he stared at the woman sitting next to him. She looked like a Blair, but her fire and personality were all Jinx. “Where did Jinx come from?”
