“New topic,” I say, forcing a smile. “This or that.”
Mik’s brows draw together. “I don’t understand.”
“What do you like better? Ice cream or chocolate? This? Or that?”
“Chocolate. Definitely chocolate.”
It’sclose to nine when we leave the restaurant. Three hours passed in the blink of an eye, and I need more. Much more.
“I don’t want to go back to the hotel yet,” Mik says as she winds an arm around my waist. “Tomorrow morning is going to come way too early, and we have to take a boatload of samples. I’m worried someone’s been spraying pesticide at the grow sites, and if so…all of our research will be worthless. And,” her voice takes on a wistful tone, “we’ll have to pack up and head back home.”
“Wait. Tomorrow? You’d leave tomorrow?” Fuck. I’m not ready to say goodbye. Stopping in my tracks, I frame her face with my hands, tracing her cheekbones, memorizing this moment.
“No. Not tomorrow.” Her lips curve into a sad smile. “But the day after. If we find evidence of pesticide. If not, I still have another four days.”
“Then so do I. I want to see you again, Mikayla. Tomorrow. And the tomorrow after that. And the tomorrow after that. If you’ll let me.”
“What are we doing?” She searches my face, even as I still hold hers. “I work twelve-hour days. Even at home. I never take vacation. I haven’t been on a date in three years. And you’re—“ Mik runs her hands down my chest, “—like Captain America, James Bond, and Indiana Jones all rolled into one.”
“You’re wrong, sweetheart.” Dipping my head, I kiss her, tasting the single sip of my margarita she asked for—the last sip—that I handed over without a second thought. I keep it light, because I can’t—I won’t—scare her off. “You’re on a date now.”
And I’m none of those guys. Not even close.
“As for what we’re doing?” Another kiss, this one deeper as I slide my hands down her back to rest just above her ass. “I don’t know any more than you do. I’m not a smart bet, Mik. Too many ghosts hiding in my closet. You should walk away from me right now. Run even. But I can’t bring myself to let you go.”
Mik rests her cheek against my chest. “I want a tomorrow. I can’t promise you more than that.”
Wrapping my arms around her, I savor her curves, her scent, something fresh and clean with that tantalizing hint of lilacs. “Then we’ll start with just one tomorrow. And see what happens.”
Unwilling letthis night end so soon, we walk through the outdoor bazaar—a permanent marketplace with everything from jewelry to wool blankets to cheap trinkets designed to catch the eye of tourists searching for a quick memento to bring home with them.
A year ago, I wouldn’t have been caughtenjoyingsomething like this if my life depended on it. And then it hits me. A year ago. That’s when everything changed. Last September. When Trev came to me and asked me to look into two JSOC guys hassling Ryker and Dax. And Ripper. That visit dredged up all the memories from the week Gil tortured me. I thought I’d banished them. Dealt with them. I was wrong.
“Hey. Where’d you go?” Mik asks, giving my waist a squeeze. “The look on your face...it was like you were seeing ghosts.” When I don’t reply, she frowns. “Talk to me, Austin. What’s haunting you?”
We’re standing next to a booth selling beaded bracelets, and rather than answer, I peer down at her and smile.
“What’s your favorite color?”
In her confusion, that furrow between her brows begs to be kissed. “Purple. Why?”
Guiding her to the closest wall, out of the way of the crowds, I smooth my hands down her arms and kiss her as I gently turn her so her back is to the booth. I don’t know why. It’s not like she didn’tjustsee the rows and rows of jewelry. “No looking over your shoulder. I’ll be right back.”
“Austin, what—?”
I cut her off with my lips on hers, and this kiss sends pure, overwhelmingneedshooting straight south of my belt, and Mik grabs on to me, her hold desperate as she offers me more. Her hips grind against me, and I know the exact moment she realizes how hard I am. Her heart is beating so fast, I feel it in my palms on her back, and I break away before I do something she definitely wouldn’t be comfortable with—like cupping her breasts and running my thumbs over the tight nipples straining against her tank top.
“Trust me, Mikayla. I’ll only be two minutes.”
She’s breathless, and nods before she pulls a water bottle from her bag and tries—with unsteady hands—to unscrew the cap. “I don’t know why I should,” she mutters. “Trust you, that is. Not when you keep doingthat.”
“Maybethatis the exact reason.” Giving her shoulder a quick squeeze, I stride back to the booth and haggle with the vendor until she cuts the price of a polished amethyst and tourmaline bracelet by a third.
Mikayla’s still facing away from me, so I call her name before I touch her, and the look on her face when she turns is part relief, part impatience, and...fuck. Part lust.
I take her hand and press the bracelet into her palm. “I don’t know what happens after tomorrow, Mik. Maybe we never see one another again. But you should have something of this place. Of this night. Of me.”
Her eyes shine as she looks from the shiny stones to me and back again. “I’ll say it again, Austin. You’re too good to be true. Put it on me?”
