Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
I’m suppressing a laugh and failing miserably at it when he turns to look at me. I give him a little shrug and head tilt. “Guess you got my point.”
“That was one hundred percent your fault. You could have caused me to wreck.”
When I start laughing, it’s hard to breathe. Or talk.
“It’s not my fault you’re a jerk. And based on what I heard, you probably don’t want to wreck another company truck. Beast is already punishing you by making you drive with me. Imagine what he’d do if you wrecked this one? He’d probably make us share a bedroom.”
We both go a little wide-eyed.
Then Scout growls. It’s a surly sound that makes the hairs on my nape stir. “I’d like to see him try. He might be big, but he’s not that fucking mean. ”
He flashes an abrupt smile. Bright. Hot. And utterly destructive.
“Sorry if I upset your widdle ears with my profanity. Let me try again. He’s not that foo-foo mean.”
I shake my head, making a rough sound in my throat. It’s not the ridiculous thing he says, it’s the smile.
God. This is just cruel.
He’s gorgeous. Everything about him. The scars, the tooth that’s a little bit crooked, the dark scruffy beard along his jaw.
How can a stone-faced killer have a smile that knocks the wind out of your lungs?
He lays his head back against the headrest as he drives, casting looks at me with humor softening his expression. His eyes are bright, clear and pale as the morning sky in Iceland. His dark-blond—almost caramel—hair, just a little longer than military standard, is ruffled from his hat and sleeping. The beard is neatly trimmed though and is a dozen shades darker.
It’s also much rougher to the fingertips.
“I can see your brother in you. But on you it’s not just straight up smarts, you’re cheeky.”
I shrug and smile at him, with my fingers tingling from the memory of touching the thick forest of his hair, feeling the heat of his skin below. “I don’t know, I just say it like I see it.”
I just hope I don’t slip up and say exactly how much I like what I see.
He takes a drink from the water bottle, looking at me over the top as he does.
When he’s done, he licks his lips.
A shiver races down to my squeezed legs.
Oh, boy. That was hot .
He rasps, “Guess we have that much in common, at least.”
I snatch one of the packages of Twinkies out of his hat, which is sitting on his lap. Cream filled treat anyone?
Choking, I try to play off the heat that sears across my cheeks. “That and we’re going to have a sugar high this morning.”
Desperate for a change of subject, I rip open the package with my fingers—not my teeth. “I’m starving. But I’m ready for something that doesn’t come out of a vending machine.”
His gaze flicks to mine. There’s something hot in the way he’s looking at me. When he glances at my lips, I get so overheated I wonder if I’m sitting on a bed of coals.
“Oh, you!” I toss the plastic wrapper at him. “Stop. I wasn’t talking about sex.”
“You sure?”
I’m the one trying to swallow now. “I’m sure. I gave up that particular sport.”
As he drives he cuts his eyes to me a few more times. “That’s the strangest thing a beautiful young woman has ever said to me.”
I stop mid bite and clear my throat.
Beautiful?
“Not really strange. I mean…” I let my words die.
“You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to.”
No, I should say something.
“I had a bad relationship.”
After making a gruff sound he looks at the road again. This time his eyes are narrowed. “Haven’t we all? It doesn’t mean you have to stop having sex.”
What ?
That remark makes no sense from a man that doesn’t like to be touched.
His phone picks a great time to ring. For both our sakes it stops us before we open a can of worms that neither of us want to deal with.
He lifts the sleek black device, slides his man-sized thumb that would feel really good in tight, wet places, and puts it to his ear.
Something in my brain sizzles. But it takes zero-point-one seconds to tell it’s Griff on the call.
I cringe as my brother yells something really profane.
Scout doesn’t utter a single word. He hits the End button and tosses the phone in the cup holder.
I stare at the silent device. “Wait! What? You hung up on him.”
“Didn’t have anything to say.”
So matter-of-fact.
This time it’s my turn to smile. “Wow, just like that?”
“That’s me, buttercup. I don’t waste my time on espousing hot air.”
I turn to look at him. More closely this time.
Beautiful.
He called me beautiful. Actually said the word.
I drag my gaze away, but a small smile lingers on my lips. “I’ll remember that.”
A glow of pleasure builds in my chest, slides down to my tummy where it warms me. I might have given up on the horizontal olympics, but it sure feels nice to have a man like him give a compliment that’s not hot air.
When his phone rings again, the ringtone is different.
His expression darkens this time as he picks up the call. After listening for a beat, he says, “Copy that. We’re almost there. ”
My warm glow is chased away by concern.
“What’s wrong?”
“The professor who has been advising us on the caves said you need to dive today. The rain we’re going to get tonight will cut us off from one of the main entrances. It’s going to be dangerous today, but tomorrow that area will be out of the question.”
He pauses, looking troubled when he glances over. “Are you up for it after what happened last night?”
Even though something tenses inside of me I nod. This is why we’re here. This is what we do. We rescue people from caves that are filled with water.
“Brundage and I can handle it.”
I just know it’s going to be ugly dealing with the man.
My nerves are humming by the time Scout and I pull up to a ranch house on an agave farm.
Scout catches my confusion. “This is our temporary headquarters.”
The place looks like a normal house, minus all the SUVs and trucks parked outside. They don’t look so normal. The blacked out windows, winches on oversized bumpers, snorkels for deep water, gear strapped on top, and insignias on the sides make it look like a CSI crime scene on steroids.
Brundage is outside. At his feet, are several bags of our dive gear. He stares at me through the windshield with open disdain.
“He always like that with you?”
It takes me a second to register Scout’s question. “I just started working with Griff’s company. Brundage is… slowly adjusting.”
When I reach for my door handle, Scout clicks the lock button so I can’t open it.
I whip my head around to look at him .
He’s staring at Brundage, but he speaks to me. “You let me know if you want me to step in.”
Gripping the door handle, I try to interpret his expression. “What do you mean?”
“Whatever you want that to mean.”
With an aggressive jab, he hits the button again and my door unlocks.