Chapter 12
Camile elicits all kinds of weird emotions inside of me. Mostly annoyance.
Especially given the way she’s looking at me with shock and anger.
I feel ya, honey. We’re on the same page. My default grump emerges. “You need to stay where I can see you.”
Her delicate pink tongue licks across her lips. Not just once, but twice, as she drops to her haunches and leans over her backpack. Her hands are shaking as she shoves things into her bag.
Whatever is on the ground, she’s hell-bent on me not seeing.
Probably tampons.
Women freak out when a dude sees their tampons. Never understood why. It’s not dirty. It’s not gross. It’s just biological.
“I just…came back here, um,” she stammers, “because I had to make a couple of calls.”
Hm. My brows lock down as I watch her struggle.
The smile she plasters on is so fake it could be made of wood. “I talked to my boss, by the way. This will make you happy. He’s going to let me use some funds for security.”
She quickly zips her pack up and tosses it in the cab of FamFind’s remaining truck.
When she turns to look at me. Her whole body is wooden. Accompanied by a flinty determination in her eyes. As she stiffly stands in front of me, she announces, “I’m going to hire local security.”
Looking right into her nervous eyes, I give her my unwelcome opinion. “Good luck. Maybe some teenagers with machetes can help you out.”
The fake smile drops. There’s a tick in the muscle under her eye. “What are you doing back here? I thought you liked glaring at everyone that walks by the tent?”
“Checking on you.”
“I’m fine.”
“It’s not safe to wander around alone. We’ve already talked about this. Guess it took all of two hours for you to forget.”
“I didn’t forget.” She looks up at the sky as if she’s gathering strength. Or praying I’ll evaporate.
I cross my arms, and she looks back at me as she huffs. “I was just around the corner. I can see Belle, and she can hear me. I’m fine.”
She wiggles her hands in the air. “See? Nothing wrong.”
Little smartass.
I clench my teeth. After I count to three, I say, “Don’t be a pain.”
She snorts. And proceeds to stalk past me, making sure not to touch me. “I have a feeling anything I do would qualify as a pain in your rear, according to your standards. Now, I’m going back to doing my job.”
“Fishing in Alaska.”
Screech.
That gets her.
Oh yeah, I had a feeling it would.
When she pivots, it makes me think of one of those wooden nut crackers. Her jaw is opening and closing, and her shoulders have assumed residence around her ears.
When her mouth stops working, she presses her lips in a viciously tight line.
Pity.
I’ve seen her pretty lips in all kinds of shapes. Shocked. Scowling. Even snarling. I like them all, but this shape is my least favorite.
“Camile, do you like to fish?”
If she could murder me with her eyes right now, I’d be done. Her reply is biting. “I don’t like for everyone to know where I’m traveling.”
Interesting.
We stay locked with our gazes clashing for a minute.
It’s not the first time I wondered if those were secrets behind those hazel eyes. But now I know.
She didn’t lie outright. But she’s artfully dodging.
Why this causes a zing of adrenaline inside of me is a fucking mystery. I hate lying.
“You don’t like for your boss to know where you are?”
She glances away. Tension scores her face. “That’s a stupid question. I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Why not, Poppy? Did I hit a sore spot?”
There’s a tiny kitten growl in her throat. It makes me grin.
I look at her, enjoying the view for about five seconds before I reconsider the pleasure. My mood flashes colder than the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.
Maybe she was making a personal call.
To a fucking guy.
I seethe over that for a few seconds but keep my mouth zipped. When did I turn into a giant, jealous asshole?
She’s not even mine to be acting like an idiot over.
Fuck.
Yet, I continue down the dark path that I have no right being on. My tone is brutal when I goad her. “Why don’t you want to talk about it?”
“Beast, I swear. I don’t know what high horse you rode in here on?—”
“It was a Toyota Tundra.”
Her eyes go electric.
My pulse pounds in response.
She smooths her hands over the front of her shorts as if that’s going to help her get control. “As I was saying, you think you can be all up in my business?”
“Yep.”
Fucking fuck. What alien has taken over my brain?
Camile has a point. Her calls aren’t any of my business. Or if she has a boyfriend.
That’s definitely none of my damned business.
My self-imposed job is keeping her ass out of danger. That’s it. Nothing more.
My face hardens until it feels like it might break.
Color rides up her cheeks. Her tiny little jaw muscle ticks.
It’s cute.
Cute?!?
Christ, why do I think everything about the woman is attractive?
I take a step back. “You can fix all your nosy, over-protective bodyguard woes by leaving town on your high horse.”
Her chin jolts back.
My hand clenches at my side. Why the fuck did I say that?
See…alien invasion. Talking all kinds of smack when I don’t want her to bug out. But damn, I want her safe.
I also want her out of my hair so I can do my job.
Grrrr.
Camile is burning a hole in my face with her laser focus. When I give her my attention, she bites out two words. “Not. Leaving.”
“Camile.”
She hisses at me. “Stop. Don’t say my name like that. Stop acting like a pea-brain mountain of muscle.” She flicks a hand. “Struttin’ ‘round like you rule the world.”
My brows lock together. “Pea-brain? So, we’ve stooped to kindergarten level now?”
The flattened line of her mouth morphs into a grimace. “That was kind of too far. I didn’t mean it.”
Oh, it’s fun watching her backpedal. Far more enjoyable than it should be. Even though I shouldn’t, I chuckle. “That temper gets you into trouble, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”
“You have no idea.”
She crosses her arms and turns her head so she doesn’t have to look at me.
My mouth goes dry. My chest and hands tighten like I’m being shrink-wrapped.
The woman has a beautiful profile. A long, slender nose, a sweet curve to her lips, and a neck I’d love to spend hours getting very acquainted with.
The urge to brush back the loose tendrils of her deep red hair makes my fingers twitch.
My throat works.
Lust stirs around, deep in my body.
Dangerous game I’m playing.
Even with all her hissing and tough-girl banter, she’s too innocent for a damaged fuck-up like me.
This has to stop.
I scrub a calloused hand over my face. Now’s not the time to sort the mess in my head, but I want to know why the hell this woman has affected me like this.
A sharp whistle breaks the air.
I go on instant alert, thanks to years of conditioning.
“That’s one of my guys.” I motion for Camile to move out. “Let’s go. Someone’s looking for me. But you might want to pick up your bra now. Probably want to start by kicking that tarantula off of it first.”
She tenses. “Oh my god. This day just keeps on giving.”
Camile toes the tarantula away with the end of her boot.
I’ll give her props. She didn’t freak. I’m not sure if I’m more disappointed or impressed.
“You must have been around tarantulas before.”
She grabs her bra and hustles to the open truck door. When she rallies up with me, her mood seems better. “My best friend in high school had one. It took me a while before I could pet it, but eventually, I did.”
There’s a pleased expression on her face. Gone is her anger from a moment ago.
Not for me. I’m still a ball of barbed wire. “Let’s go.”
As we approach the maze of cargo, I motion for her to go in front of me. “Ladies first. By the way, you handled the spider situation well. I kind of expected you to scream and leap into my arms.”
She lets out a husky laugh. “See, there goes that imagination.”
“I’ve got plenty,” I openly admit as I watch her cute little ass sway in front of me.
A fire burns a path from my throat to my cock. My palm remembers what it was like to be clutching that firm cheek.
I do have a really good imagination. I can call up all kinds of ways that I want to get Camile dirty.