“My next book,” I said without looking up. There was no sense angling my screen away as he peeked over my shoulder. He’d eventually read the whole thing anyway, and if my last book was any indication, he’d probably post a review.
If I was being honest, the manuscript wasn’t so bad. The story finally felt like it was coming together. Vero had been right when she’d said all I needed was some real-life inspiration, that the story would be stronger if my heroine gave herself over to her desires and let herself be swept away by the one man she’d been too afraid to get involved with. The new scenes I’d written between my sexy assassin and her forbidden cop were some of the hottest I’d ever put on paper, and I was pretty sure my agent, Sylvia, was going to love it.
Steven frowned at my laptop as I typed. “Huh.”
“Are you preparing your next great literary critique?” He had the audacity to look surprised.
“So I left you a review. What’s wrong with that? You’re always complaining you don’t have enough of them.”
“You said the sex in my books was unrealistic!” I whispered, trying not to wake the children.
“I gave you five stars! It brought your average up by a whole quarter of a percent.”
I didn’t even dignify that with a response.
He pointed at my laptop and I slapped his hand away. “That bit right there. That’s exactly what I was talking about. That stuff never happensin real life. No guy has the upper-body strength to pull off a maneuver like that,” he said, gesturing to the passage on the screen where the hot cop hoists the heroine up by her thighs, wraps her legs around his waist, and takes her against the wall. “And definitely not the stamina to hold out that long once they actually get down to it. I mean, come on. She climaxed three times.”
I slowly turned to face him. He paled as I raised an eyebrow, daring him to ask me about my exceptionally thorough research.
My phone buzzed in the cupholder beside me.DET. NICK ANTHONYflashed on the screen. Steven harrumphed.
I chewed my lip, debating whether or not to answer it. If I didn’t pick up, Nick might assume I was just sleeping.
Orhe might start wondering why he couldn’t reach me. The last thing I needed was a very persistent detective worrying about me.
“Don’t let me stop you,” Steven muttered, scooting back to his side of the SUV.
He crossed his arms over his chest as I answered Nick’s call. “Hey,” I said in a low voice, angling my face toward the window for some privacy. “You’re still awake? I thought you’d be home in bed sleeping by now.”
“I could say the same about you,” he said. My stomach knotted. “I came to your place after the debriefing to make sure you, Vero, and the kids were okay. When you didn’t answer your door, I tried your phone a few times. You didn’t pick up, so I called your sister.”Damnit, Georgia.Did she have to tell him everything? “If you were feeling unsafe at your place, you could have called me. I would have found somewhere else for you to stay. You didn’t have to leave town.”
“I know, and I’m sorry. I should’ve said something. But you were busy dealing with everything that happened last night, and I didn’t want to interrupt your meeting with your commander—”
“One, I’m never too busy for you, ever. Your family’s safety is my number-one priority, so let’s clear up that misconception right now. You feel unsafe, you call me. No one else is more important than you. Andtwo…” His voice softened. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all damn day, and I’m a little miffed that we’ll be missing our date.” He was supposed to cook dinner for me tomorrow night. But I wouldn’t have minded skipping the chili and biscuits and diving right into dessert.
“I was looking forward to that, too.”
His voice got deep and husky. “You know what else I was looking forward to?”
“What?” I asked coyly.
Steven cleared his throat with a grating sound that made me want to stuff a sock in it.
“Not alone?” Nick asked.
“Not even close.”
He laughed. “Tell your mom I said hello. And as for you…” His voice dropped to an alluring rumble. “We’ll continue this conversation later.” His provocative tone suggested there wouldn’t be much talking involved, but given my present circumstances, that was probably for the better.
“Can’t wait.”
Steven made a disgusted noise as I disconnected. He glared over our children’s heads toward the front of the car. My mother stifled a yawn behind the wheel, her blinks growing longer in the rearview mirror.
Steven called up to the front seat, “Take the next exit, Susan. I’m driving.”
“You’re not driving,” I reminded him.
“Your mom’s been at the wheel for hours, and you and Vero haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in days. You’re both too tired. It’s not safe.” He cut off my argument before I could open my mouth. “We’re nowhere near Maryland, Finn. Your fugitive babysitter has nothing to worry about. We need to stop for gas anyway,” he pointed out.
