Page 31 of Viper

Paige’s head lolled to the side, and she looked at him. “I’m glad you can connect with them because I really don’t want to talk to my brother right now if I don’t have to.”

That was probably best. Striker would likely drill them both about being together—or at least demand Troy keep a safe distance.

But there was no safe distance where Paige was concerned. If Troy could see her, he was in danger of touching her. If he could smell her, he was at risk of kissing her. And if she got close, as she had that morning . . . well, all bets were fucking off.

He opened the group chat again. The most recent message was from Rogue.

You doing OK or do you need backup? One of us can fly down if needed.

He moved his thumbs over the screen.

We’re fine but Craig’s still on the loose. Has Havoc started pulling surveillance?

Three dots appeared then disappeared next to Havoc’s icon—a Superman symbol, the dipshit. The bobbling ellipsis popped up again.

Started but I haven’t confirmed his last location. If he passed a street camera at any point today, I’m going to know about it.

Troy rubbed his fingers over his beard. He was tempted to have one of the guys hop on a flight. If he had someone to sit with Paige, he could at least go out looking for the guy. Last thing he wanted to do was leave her unprotected for even a goddamn minute.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know.” Paige’s sweet taunt punched through his concentration. It was as if she’d read his mind.

He shifted his gaze to her slick body. She must have oiled it when he hadn’t been paying attention.

Goddamn, she was gorgeous. If her friend weren’t frolicking with seashells nearby and he weren’t on alert for a sick fuck creeping the beach, he’d have taken her right then and there. “Who’s babysitting?”

“You,” she countered. “And don’t pretend you’re not. I’ve seen enough of what you and Phantom Ops do to know I’m being protected.”

She rolled onto her belly, offering him a delicious view of her heart-shaped ass. The bikini bottom, though not as racy as her friend’s, accentuated her curves perfectly. The thing about Paige was that she screamed effortlessness. The way she moved, the way she talked, hell, the way she fucking blinked—it was all a turn-on, and he wasn’t dumb enough to think he was the only one she had that effect on.

“Of course you’re being protected, Paige.” He flicked his gaze toward the shroud of brush leaking over the sand. “But don’t think for one minute I’d rather be anywhere else.”

“I know you’d rather be out looking for Craig,” she volleyed, situating her cheek on her folded hands.

“No shit.” He smirked. “Is Chantal going to be long?”

“Oh yeah,” she said, squinting. “She’ll be here all day. Why, you cutting our date short?” Her lips twitched with amusement.

“I told you, this doesn’t count.”

She chuckled. “Then when do I get my date, Romeo?”

“When you tuck that fuckable ass into a dress and let me take you to dinner.”

She let out a loud laugh. “All right. Dinner tonight. I’ll be sure to let Chantal know she can’t tag along. Let’s stay for another twenty minutes so I can even out my tan and let Chantal know we’re leaving.”

“Deal,” he said.

“You’re making me look like a lush,” Paige said. She stirred her second margarita with the tiny straw, then slurped the cold lime drink.

No way she could finish this much alcohol. She had a drink only on occasion, and she’d been in the sun for half the day. She might end up on the floor.

Troy braced his elbows on the table and swallowed the mouthful of food he was chewing. “You’re making yourself look like a lush.”

She gasped. “That’s rude!”

He chortled. “I’m kidding. I was the one who offered you another drink.”

She took one more long sip, then pushed away the tempting beverage. “Yes, you did. Now I’ll have to repay you because I changed my mind and am not going to drink all that anyway. It’s much stronger than the last.”