Page 25 of Straight Shooter

Her cheeks flushed, and she gazed down at her feet and curled her toes. “It’s fine.”

He leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb and studied her pale cheeks. Something was nagging at him. “Do you feel safe staying here?” The question blurted from his lips before he could stop it. If she didn’t feel safe, she sure as hell wouldn’t tell him. He wasn’t a genius, but criminals typically didn’t want FBI agents hanging around. And, to be fair, he shouldn’t want to be hanging around her either—not unless he was looking for dirt. Peyton’s crimes weren’t at the top of the bureau’s list of priorities, but stealing from California’s wealthy, albeit shady, individuals would land her in jail, and that was the last thing he wanted for her. Too bad she wanted it for herself.

The corner of her lip tucked in, and she toyed with the string on Eric’s jacket. He stilled her hand, and she swung her attention to his face. It bothered him that she was wearing Eric’s sweater over her naked body. It should be his clothes on her, no one else’s. Ah, crap. The last thing he needed was the image of her naked body in his head, and he sure as hell didn’t want to get territorial.

“Yes.” She coughed. “Well, no. I probably won’t feel safe for a while. But there’s no way he knows where I’m staying.”

He returned his hand to his pocket before he did something stupid like touch her again. “You’re sure about that?”

“I didn’t have ID on me when I was on his boat, and you got my phone for me, remember?”

He nodded and clamped his teeth together. Why did leaving her feel like ripping off a limb? He was getting soft. Sleep, food, and a hot shower would set his head on straight. He’d been in protector mode since laying eyes on her. Distance would induce clarity.

She stepped closer, and her round eyes glowed. She lifted her palm and pressed it to the breast of his jacket. “I’m fine, Rhett. Really. You’ve gone above and beyond as an agent and as a friend to Milo and Serena. I’ll arrange a flight in the morning and be out of here no later than tomorrow afternoon.” She rose onto the tips of her toes and brushed a kiss over his cheek. The contact was quick, platonic. A kiss of gratitude. Yet, the softness of her lips and the swell of her hip against his wrist stirred every erotic image in his brain.

“Take it easy.” Cracking a smile, she moved inside the room. Then she lifted her fingers in a delicate wriggle and shut the door, leaving his rock-hard cock to throb a delayed message to his brain: off-limits.

Chapter

Ten

A bright light hit Peyton’s face, and she squinted at the culprit. A small gap in the curtains had allowed a rectangle of sunshine to push away her precious sleep. She flipped over in the king-sized bed to read the clock: 10:03 a.m. Holy moly. The last time she’d slept past 8:00 a.m. was after a night of drinking with Dani. And she’d vowed never to do that again. She threw back the covers and tilted her head from one side to the other. Her neck muscles screamed with every movement. She felt as if she’d been hit by a truck.

She turned over her wrists to find purple and red blotches—popped blood vessels—dotting her skin. Looking past her arms, she caught sight of the gauze on her leg. She gingerly peeled back the bandages and examined the now blackish-red gash.

After Rhett had left the previous night, she’d had a scorching-hot shower (being careful to keep her leg out of the spray), ordered room service, and crashed. But she hadn’t been able to chase the FBI agent from her mind.

Dragging her banged-up body to the shower once again, she cranked the water to hot and stepped out of her underwear and tank top. The spray assaulted her sore muscles, so she washed quickly and got out. With a towel knotted between her breasts, she sat down on the bed and picked up her phone from the desk, where it had charged overnight.

Three missed calls and six missed texts.

Good thing she’d shut her ringer off or she wouldn’t have slept a wink. She scrolled through the notifications—most of them from Max and two from Dani. She needed to deal with Max, but talking to her best friend first would lighten a fraction of the anxiety that still weighed on her chest.

Dani answered on the second ring. “Hey! How’s the trip?” The question was a mere nicety. Dani had made it clear that she didn’t want to hear about Peyton’s jobs anymore. Brock, Dani’s fiancé, had stressed to Dani that any knowledge of what Peyton was involved in could make her an accomplice.

Peyton cleared her throat. She didn’t have to tell Dani the details of what she was doing, but she could still tell her about the trauma. Curling her feet under her, she pressed her back to the headboard. “Stressful. Eventful.” She laughed. “I don’t know where to begin without implicating you.”

Silence beat through the receiver. “One small thing at a time. Are you hurt? Did something happen?”

Peyton picked at the terrycloth at her knee. “Some guys assaulted me. I’m fine,” she said quickly. “But I’m still shaken from it.”

“Oh my god.” Peyton heard a door closing in the background. “Do you need me to come there?”

Peyton guffawed. “Brock would have my neck if I suggested that while on a job. No, it’s all blown over now.” She chewed her lip. Would Rhett be angry with her if she told Dani they’d met?

“There’s something else,” Dani said.

No point in trying to hide something from Dani. She knew her better than anyone. “I bumped into Rhett Callahan. You know, the FBI agent.”

Dani’s hiss made her pull the phone away from her ear momentarily. “Of course I know who Rhett is. What . . . how?”

“It’s a long story. One you probably shouldn’t hear.”

“Don’t give me that.”

Peyton smiled, envisioning Dani’s hand on her hip. “Our paths crossed on a job, and, well . . .” She fumbled over the words and shoved her fingers in the tangles of her hair. She’d never had difficulty talking to Dani about things, but she’d yet to wade through the emotions—and the memory of Rhett’s scorching-hot body—that had plagued her over the last twelve hours.

“Peyton.” Suspicion clouded Dani’s voice, and it lowered to a hushed whisper. “Did something happen between you and Rhett?”