“How is assassin daycare going?”March pesters me.
“It will be better when you come through with the damn identities already.”
“I’m working on it.”
“It’s been over two weeks,” I stress.
“I know, I’m just taking precautions. I want to make sure they’re solid. The kid is throwing everything off. She’s the red flag.”
“Ugh, I know. I just want to get her the hell out of the country already.”
“And we will. Christmas in Scotland. Sounds romantic.”
“Nothing about this is romantic. Our lives are on the line every single second.”
“Yeah, that does kind of put a damper on things.” March finally comes back to reality. “Back to business then. I’m putting in another order for delivery. Anything specific you need?”
“A vibrator?” I mindlessly answer.
“Really, now?” March’s voice elevates.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Singingly clear. No nookie from McNaughty? I thought you two’d be banging all over the trailer park by now.”
“Definitely not.”
“Too bad. Might as well take advantage while you can.”
“That’s a bottle of whiskey I don't want to crack open.”
“Afraid you might fall for him all over again if you spread your legs?”
I growl internally. “No.”
“You’re full of it. You want that man. I can hear it in your voice. There’s a strong echo of frustration.”
“You don’t hear shit,”
“You’re the one who requested the vibrator.” He throws that little tidbit in my face.
“Ugh.”I fall back onto my pillow. “March, you’re making me want to hunt you down and kill you.”
“What else is new?”
“Text me when the delivery is on its way.” I sigh.
“Roger that. We’ll be switching out the car again, too.”
“Fine, good.” I hang up, throw the phone across the bed, and stare at the peeling paint on the ceiling.
I do not want to sleep with Declan O'Dea. Ido notwant to sleep with Declan O'Dea.I repeat the mantra over and over again until I halfheartedly believe it.
Being cooped up in this tiny trailer can sometimes be oh, horny hell. We’re constantly on top of each other. In close proximity. I can smell him wherever he goes. Our bodies continually brushing, bumping, and grazing each other is enough to make a celibate man break.
And I am definitely not known for my celibacy, chastity, or purity.
Not to mention the incessant flirting. Ever since I opened up to him and shared my horrid, dirty past, it’s like we’ve gotten unconsciously closer. There isn’t this air of hostility anymore. It’s more like a flurry of philandering.
