He inhaled a series of deep breaths. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. What are you, a shrink or something?” He gave her a quick smack on the lips, then reached around her and took his pistol from the nightstand. With his clothing tucked under his arm, he headed out of the bedroom, affording her a view of his tight, bare butt. “Meet me at the front door in three minutes.”
“On your way through town, you can drop me off at my office. I’ll find a way home.”
“Oh, no,” he said over his shoulder. “You’re coming. I’m not leaving you at the mercy of Malone and gang.”
She halted in the process of stepping into her panties. “I don’t have any clothes.”
“Wear last night’s. Or hit Beth’s closet and chest of drawers. She won’t mind. Three minutes.”
Following the second time they’d made love, she had thought she was replete, that she only wished to lie there forever, feeling sublimely boneless and drowsy. But then he’d issued her an invitation to join him in the shower, and she couldn’t resist his naughty grin.
Naked, he was simply magnificent. Although she’d been careful of his wound, she couldn’t keep her hands or mouth off him. His Excalibur—and its adjacent sword—got extra attention that eventually had brought him to his knees. He’d warned her that he intended to explore every inch of her, not exclusively by hand, and he’d stayed true to his word.
Being all wet and soapy had made the foreplay incredibly erotic and had led, inevitably, to them joining, moving against each other, her clinging, him clutching, until the shower stall walls had echoed their climactic cries.
After drying, she’d replaced the closures on his abdomen that had been sacrificed to sex, then, exhausted, they’d crawled onto the bed and instantly had fallen asleep.
Now she was relieved that she was at least clean, because she had time to do nothing more than rinse her mouth out with toothpaste, secure her hair into a ponytail, and dress.
She put on her skirt from the night before, but raided Beth Bowie’s closet in search of a top that was more suitable for daytime than her silk blouse. She also found a pair of sneakers to replace her ravaged evening pumps.
When she joined Mitch in the main room, he gave her an approving once-over and picked up a child car seat where it sat near the front door. “I keep a spare here.”
His expression was intent, his manner all business. He madequick work of locking the door and replacing the key beneath the porch floor plank, then plowed into the swampy forest, which to Dylan didn’t look any less menacing in daylight than it had the night before. Mitch navigated it with the ease of a wraith. The borrowed sneakers made the going easier for her.
After opening the garage, he installed the child seat in a drab, gray two-door car. “It’s not pretty, and the blanket in the back seat smells like wet dog. His name’s Mutt.”
“Yours?”
“John and Beth’s.”
He secured the garage with his disreputable-looking pickup inside, then they jounced along the rutted track that led to the highway. He turned west onto it and drove aggressively, speeding up to pass any vehicle not going fast enough to suit him.
He was wearing his game face, the one he’d displayed last night when he’d taken her elbow and hustled her away from the commotion outside the restaurant. A man on a mission. The focused, special ops soldier face except without the makeup.
Quietly, she said, “You really should drop me in town, Mitch.”
He didn’t even take his eyes off the road. “There’s a Quick Stop a mile up ahead. I’ll get us some coffee.”
“Did you hear what I said?”
“The breakfast burritos aren’t bad.”
“It would be for the best.”
“Forget it, Dylan.”
“I’ve already imposed on John and Beth to an embarrassing degree.” She looked down at the pull-on top she’d pilfered, and thinking about the bed she’d had to leave unmade made her cheeks hot. “Dealing with your family situation is going to be difficult enough. You don’t know what to expect, and matters could change in an instant. I shouldn’t intrude.”
“You’re not intruding. I’m giving you no choice.”
“Which will require an explanation.”
“I’ve got ninety miles to think of something.”
He steered into the parking lot of the convenience store, put the car in park, but kept the engine running. He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her toward him. “I’m not going anywhere without keeping you in sight.” He kissed her, and this time it was more than a smack. It wasn’t a lingering kiss, but the kind that counted all the same. And when it broke, to underscore his intention, he said, “That’s settled.”
He pulled into the driveway of the Duvalls’ house, saying to Dylan, “The old lady lives next door.” He got out and jogged across the connecting lawns, counting on Dylan to follow him, which she did also at a jog.
