Page 62 of Every Last Breath

She hit the unlock button on the key fob. The headlights popped on, casting their familiar spray of light, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

Cole lay on the hood of the truck, arms folded, head resting on the windshield. Her heart flipped over in her chest. No way he’d spent two hours waiting for her.

Tenacious beyond belief. And sexier than sin.

Unreal.

The glow from the lights outlined the sweet rolling curves of his wiry physique. Long legs, tight torso, broad shoulders. Seeing him in action on the yacht, laced with lethal power, had filled her with awe in the moment. The recollection now stirred a slow burn of desire more potent than a double-shot of whiskey. Top-shelf.

Once, years ago, he’d taken on three punks who’d made the mistake of trying to mug them. He’d put them in the hospital. One in intensive care.

A born fighter.

Half of her wanted to knock his delicious body off the truck’s hood, send him packing. The other half wanted to do dirty things to said delicious body.

“I hoped you’d be long gone,” she said.

As she crossed in front of the headlights to the driver’s door, he tossed something to her without looking. She caught it.

A white paper bag from her favorite twenty-four-hour burger joint. Her insides softened, and she salivated, even if her heart cringed at potential clogged arteries.

“Fries are cold, but the fully loaded burger should hit the spot.”

The man could still read her mind after all this time, and it annoyed her worse than a nest of riled hornets. “For all you know, I’m a vegetarian these days.”

He roared with laughter, so rough it grated her skin. Swinging his long legs over the side of the truck, he sat up, clutching his stomach, choking on that gut-deep laugh as if what she’d said had been the most preposterous thing in the world.

It kind of was—she’d never give up meat, but he didn’t know that. After he’d disappeared, her whole life had changed. She’d changed.

He patted his chest, amusement dying to a sultry chuckle, nettling her to roll her eyes. “That’ll be the day”—he squeezed out another chortle—“when you don’t want a good piece of meat in your mouth.”

Heat smacked her cheeks. She wrenched the door open and climbed inside, slamming it shut. He was talking about a burger, right?

Sounded so raunchy, so slip-n-slide kind of nasty.

Her thoughts took a vivid nosedive into the triple-X gutter and her sex clenched.

He opened the passenger door and hopped up into the cabin. “I believe the proper response when someone brings you food is thank you.”

Shaking her head at her oversight in manners, she set the food on the floor with the file she’d been carrying. “Sorry. Thank you. I’m starving and tired and—”

“Stressed.” He angled toward her, resting an arm on top of the bench seat, dark hair falling across his collar. “I’m no stranger to your cranky side, and I don’t scare easily.”

No, he didn’t. She’d always admired that about him. His strength. His boldness. The fierce determination that had kept him out here waiting for hours. But she preferred when he used his superpowers for good and not wickedness against her.

“How did you get back through the gate?”

“Sanborn granted me temporary access,” he said.

“I’ll have to see about getting it revoked.”

He scooted closer along the seat. A dizzying kind of panic skittered through her with no console between them. The masculine smell of him cut through the aroma of food, stirring a different hunger.

“You should go wherever it is you plan to sleep,” she said. “It’s late.” Her body fluttered with traitorous sensations in protest.

“That really what you want?” The gravelly heat in his voice sent tingles to her thighs.

His gaze dropped to her mouth, and her tongue tied. She wanted to say no, it isn’t, but also wanted to scream in outrage. Alive and well all this time, and he’d never contacted her. No phone call, no email. She had a mountain of issues to sort through. Everest-level shit. Tackling it now would strip her bare, leaving her nothing for the mission and the fight with Novak.