Chapter Five #2
She pops up quickly at the mention of food, causing me to laugh. I like a woman who appreciates a good meal, and from the time we’ve gotten on the road, Talia hasn’t eaten one salad, which is amazing considering her petite, albeit curvy frame.
From the amount of cars in the gravel parking lot, the restaurant is obviously busy.
“Looks like we found a popular place,” she says.
As long as I can get us in and out safely should the need arise, I’ll make it work. The place is old and beat-up-looking, but it is the best I can do under the circumstances.
Despite the number of people, we are lucky enough to get a table immediately, as most of the crowd is hanging out around the bar and near a dance floor.
The hostess, a young girl in a cowboy hat and a perky smile, seats us.
“It’s so rustic,” Talia murmurs as she slides into her chair. “I kind of like it.”
I shake my head, amused. I should realize by now that Talia is one to make things pretty damned easy, considering our situation.
We settle in to our seats and study the menu, which offers some pretty basic fare. I don’t mind.
“Can I take your order?” A waitress arrives at our table, a pad in hand.
“Talia?” I gesture for her to go first.
“You go. I’m not sure yet,” she murmurs.
“The barbeque chicken sounds good. And a Diet Coke.” My stomach growls at the mention of the food, but the music is loud, so nobody notices.
“I’ll have the same,” Talia says. “Thank you.”
The waitress takes the menus and leaves us alone.
“It feels so good to get out of the car.” With a low, sexy groan, Talia stretches beneath the table, her foot rubbing up against my leg.
The gesture and sound are innocent, but my body’s reaction isn’t. My cock perks up in my pants. Not that my dick is ever unaware with Talia around.
“Agreed,” I say, shifting and adjusting myself discreetly beneath the table.
After sitting in close quarters with her for hours, smelling her fruity shampoo, watching her alternate between making cute noises when she slept and entertaining me with stories of people in her lab when the silence became too much, I am very much aware of her.
Not to mention the kiss that is always playing in the back of my mind, on a never-ending loop. Mocking me for being an idiot and ending things before either of us found any true satisfaction.
It was just a prelude. A tease. And I want more.
“Aww, look.” She points to an older couple who have risen from their seats and are walking hand in hand to the small dance floor, which is crowded with people. “That’s so sweet,” Talia says as the woman puts her head against the man’s chest.
I mentally add romantic to her list of attributes. “They remind me of my parents,” I say, grinning as I watch them.
“You’re lucky, and so are they.” Her eyes mist as she takes in the slow movements of the older couple.
My heart twists in my chest as I realize the things she’s missed out on in life. The things I take for granted. Parents who not only grow old together, but who, by example, prove that happily-ever-afters do happen. Maybe not for me, but I don’t not believe they can occur.
I glance over. Her eyes have filled up, misting with tears. “I just miss her still. I think I feel an ache for the events she missed out on in my life…graduations, jobs, celebrations. She’d be so happy about this cure. Not for herself, but—”
“She’d be proud of you.” I smile because I am proud of her. “So would your dad.”
She brushes at a stray tear. “I know.” She smiles. “Hey…let’s dance,” she says, clearly wanting to change the subject.
Before I can answer, she rises from her chair and grabs my hand, pulling me to join her.
I give in…only because I will have an eye on the front and back doors the whole time. She slips into my arms like she is meant for me, her breasts pressed enticingly against my chest, causing my body to hum with desire. A burning need for this one woman.
And when she slides her hands into the back pockets of my jeans and cups my ass, all bets are off.
I wrap an arm around her waist, lift her until she is up on her toes, and seal my lips over hers.
I feel her mouth curve up in a smile. Little smarty-pants got what she wanted, but in doing so, I won as well.
I slide my tongue between her lips and delve deep, indulging in her sweetness and taste, my cock pulsing against my jeans and her soft body. We sway in time to the music, her tongue gliding against mine, my mind wondering how fast I can get her out of here and into a bed.
“Food,” she whispers, breaking the kiss. “We need to eat so we can get out of here.”
She is reading my mind. “I could devour you,” I say, nipping at her bottom lip.
Now that I’ve overanalyzed for the better part of the day, I am finished treating her with kid gloves, as if she were some fragile flower. This woman has guts and strength, and I want her bad.
After we get through this meal and I check us in for the night, I’m not backing off once we are alone. I’ll be careful with her safety, but I am giving in to what we both want.
I grasp her hand and lead her back to the table, where our plates are waiting. I barely taste my food, eating only as a means to keep up my strength—we are both going to need and appreciate it later.
“This is good barbeque sauce,” she says, her eyes glittering as she runs her tongue over her lips. “Hot and spicy.” Her cheeks flush a healthy pink.
I know it isn’t in her nature to be the sexual aggressor, but she is pushing me anyway. Even if it isn’t easy.
“You’re stepping up your game.” And she is getting to me. I gesture for the check.
She lifts her shoulder in a delicate shrug. “You didn’t give me much of a choice. You weren’t going to make the first move. Or the next one. And we’re long overdue for this, wouldn’t you say?”
I reach into my pocket and throw cash on the table, pull her from her seat, and make a beeline for the door, my body hot, bothered, and insisting that I get her alone.
Except as I push through the crowd, the back of my neck begins to tingle, and a glance at the front entrance tells me why. A man stands at the entryway, looking out of place in black slacks and a white shirt, a holstered gun covered by his jacket but visible by the slight bump of fabric.
And though this guy could be anyone, I never ignored my sixth sense. But fuck. How the hell were we located again?
I pull Talia behind a group of people, out of sight.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, taking my cues and inserting herself into the crowd.
“We’re going out the back. Take off your glasses,” I instruct Talia. “Just until we get to the car.” They are less likely to recognize her without the visible prop.
She slides her glasses off her face and tucks them into her hand. “I don’t get it,” she says, her frustration mirroring my own.
“Let’s figure it out once we’re out of here. Stick close.” I glance around and see the man walk up to the hostess stand, which is far from the dance floor, giving us the opportunity to slip away.
I keep to the perimeter, making our way toward the back door by the restrooms. We run for the car and are on our way before the guy realizes he missed her.
“What the fuck?” I say, banging my hand against the steering wheel. “How do they keep finding us?”
I glance at her just as she lifts a hand, rubbing the locket around her neck, a nervous gesture she makes a habit out of doing when she is upset. “I’ve scanned that thing,” I mutter.
“What?”
“The locket. I’ve scanned it three times now. I hate to say it, but you’re going to have to toss the necklace.” I slow and pull over to the side of the dark road. “Out the window. Do it now.” I hit the electric button, and her window goes down.
“What? No! It belonged to my mother!” She rubs the heart possessively, her long fingers touching the gold piece. “I can’t give it up.” She places a hand on her own button, and the window slides closed.
Frustration wars with a heavy dose of sympathy, made even more relevant because of the conversation we had and her admission about how much she misses her mom. Unfortunately, it is compassion I can’t afford if I am going to do my job.
“Talia, if somehow they tagged the necklace, we have to unload it to keep you safe.”
Tears form in her eyes as she hangs on to the precious piece. “It’s the one thing I have of my mother’s. You can’t possibly expect me to throw it away.”
I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. I hate putting her in this position, but I can’t see an alternative. “If it was morning, I’d put it in a safe deposit box at a bank or open a post office box and leave it there, but it’s after business hours. I don’t know of any other way to drop the tail.”
The only shot she has of keeping the jewelry is if whoever is after her never had the opportunity to get their hands on it. I meet her gaze. “Do you ever take it off?” I ask.
She blinks, answering without thinking it through. “Of course I do. I leave it on my dresser when I shower.”
I doubt anyone was in while she was there. “Do you always wear it to work?”
Meeting my gaze, she shakes her head.
“So they could have gotten into your apartment and tagged it without you knowing.”
A tear drips from her eyes as she nods.
Then, she takes me by surprise, lifting her hands to the back of her neck and unhooking the clasp. “Dad gave this to me after Mom died. He said she’d want me to have it…to remember her by.”
She draws a deep breath. “But I don’t need a thing to keep my memories alive.” She curls her hands around the chain, the locket dangling from her hand, and she presses her lips to the heart. “I have her in here.” She touches her chest.
My own heart aches watching her.
Then she opens the window and tosses the heart out, turning away. “Let’s go.” She closes the window, squeezing her eyes shut tight.
“Talia,” I say gruffly. “I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t reply.
I put the car in drive and pull back onto the road.