Page 6 of No Lies No Promises

She points at the now-almost-empty drip bag. “Soon. I can't wait to take a shower.”

“And I can’t wait to share it.” When I sit up, the room doesn’t spin.

Progress.

Her tired eyes narrow. “Dream on, Romeo. Your cut was deep. Gonna need a sex sabbatical.”

“No way.” I chuckle through the pain. “Nothing says romance like fresh gauze.”

Shaking her head, she lowers the bed rail, then cups my cheek. “Seriously, babe? Other than destroying the Ferrari, a crazy ex, and almost getting blown up, it was a great vacation.”

“The best.” I recall rubbing sunscreen over every inch of her tanned skin and holding her in the ocean. We made love in the outdoor shower, in the double bed, bent over the kitchen table….

When the sheet tents over my erection, she waves a hand in front of my face. “Sean, you with me?”

“Sorry. Could you repeat that?” My face heats. Judging by her forehead’s worry lines, she's been talking for a while.

Eyes fixed on mine, she enunciates the way she did right after the blast. “I said, the police were asking questions. They promised to come back.”

Talk about a buzzkill. “How much did you tell them?”

“Not a lot…” Catlike, she stretches. “Only that a truck tried to run us off the road. We stopped because we heard it crash. And, as we approached, it blew up.”

I nod, glad she didn't say more. Details might’ve earned us hours of interrogation.

Just in case they return, I pull the needle from my arm. “Time to go.”

“Without paperwork? Hell, that won't look suspicious, not at all.” She points to the bed. “Stay put, Mr. Balls. I'll go find a nurse.”

A couple of minutes later, Lil sinks into the chair beside me. “While we wait, I've been thinking. If you never met our suicide bomber, why’d she want to blow you up? And how did she know about the nondenominational holiday joke?”

“Maybe she was there when we hooked up, overheard us, then imagined me bringing her home instead of you.”

“I guess…” Not convinced, she shrugs. “What do you remember of that night?”

“Other than epic sex?” When my grin widens, she rolls her eyes.

“Try to get your mind out of the sewer.”

“Okay, but it won’t be easy.” Lowering my lids, I picture late December, the day my life changed. “Your sister was giving you some kind of makeover in front of everyone at the bar. Before I could come over and introduce myself, your father’s goons started harassing you. You were so fucking beautiful. Still are. Since then, all I’ve wanted is you. I’m the luckiest bastard alive.”

Instead of responding in kind, Lillian frowns. “Some random, delusional woman who thought she had an affair with you was so distraught she followed us to the beach, waited for us to leave, then tried to run us off the road? When those plans didn’t work, she filled a truck full of fertilizer and created a bomb to kill us? Do you realize how unbelievable that sounds?”

“When you say it like that, it's a bit of a reach.” When my brows lift, hers go higher.

“Ya think?” Clearly, she's been chewing on this while I was passed out.

“It'll be fine,” I say. “Just keep playing dumb.”

“Won't be hard. For you.”

When the corner of her mouth lifts, I lob back, “That's what she said.”

“Not funny.”

“A little funny.” Stifling my chuckle, I tackle the most immediate problem. “So, if you're not going to let me blow this joint, I think we should talk about the next few weeks. I want you working from home until we figure things out.”

“Me?” Her voice rises an octave. “The mad bomber was after you.”