Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
“They don’t like that you’re doing this, do they?
” And why would they? If A.J.’s teammates were sent to spy on her and her colleagues, surely they would object to A.J.
not only helping her leave town but also riding along in the getaway vehicle.
So to speak. Although, Ana still refused to call it running away.
“Your phones are off, right?” he deflected.
“Of course.” She knew the second she failed to show up at the office as she’d promised Kyle, he’d be blowing up her phone.
And by the fourth time his calls were sent straight to voicemail, he’d go over to check her place.
Probably have a team of investigators there soon to search her townhouse.
And then the allegations would start flying out of the chute, and the rodeo would begin.
She just needed to stay on the horse until she met up with Porter.
And when did I start thinking in cowboy analogies?
Since the sexy cowboy sitting in the passenger seat had walked back into her life and jump-started feelings she never knew existed.
Allowing A.J. to go with her wasn’t the best idea. But he hadn’t given her much of a choice, and there was a dangerous hitman out there somewhere, so maybe she could use the help until her meeting Friday.
A.J. would demand answers at some point, but she’d need to carefully consider how much to divulge. Her promised silence about this classified assignment had practically been signed in blood on those non-disclosure agreements.
“Hey, you okay?” A.J. asked softly. He placed a hand on her arm as she clutched the wheel tightly with both hands. “You’re shaking. I never thought I’d see that reaction from you.”
Goose bumps pebbled her skin beneath his palm.
She relaxed her jaw at the realization she was biting down on her back teeth and forced a nod.
He gave her arm a light squeeze before letting go.
“Blindly trusting someone like this is a new thing for me.” And oh my God, I looked at him with stars in my eyes and bit my lip earlier. What was up with that?
Distraction, sure. But feelings? It made no sense.
“I get that. Trusting people ain’t exactly easy for me, either. Not outside my circle. But here I am doing it for you.”
She stole a brief look at him. “You run in a pretty tight circle, I assume?”
“Not much choice in my line of work,” he said with a light tone, “you know, Avenger and all.”
She graced him with a small smile. It was a nice reprieve from the jittery sensation that had filled her with dread moments ago. “Right.”
“But, um, on a scale of one to ten, how much of a fool did I make of myself on that drunken slash bump-on-the-head phone call?”
“Oh, an eleven, for sure.” She didn’t have to look at him to know there was a grin on his face. Probably a wickedly sexy one, too. “I would’ve loved to play it for you, but I had to delete it tonight. Can’t risk anyone knowing about our connection.”
He cursed, then grabbed his phone from the center console and jabbed a finger at the lit screen.
It took her a second to grasp what he was doing, but then it registered.
She wanted to kick herself for not thinking of mentioning it earlier.
It wasn’t like her to overlook details like that.
“Hey, Harper, can you delete the record of my call to Quinn on Saturday?” He said a few more words, then hung up. “They may pull your records.”
“May?” She smiled. “Oh, they’ll pull my records as soon as they realize I’m gone.” Standard operating procedure.
“But let’s get back to the ‘Anastasia Quinn saved A.J. Hawkins’ voicemail message’ thing.” Oh jeez, he actually sounded proud.
“I didn’t save it.” She shrugged. “Just didn’t delete it. Well, until our road trip.”
Road trip. What an odd choice of words. Porter was out there somewhere, and hopefully he was safe, but he needed her.
And she was sitting here talking about a voicemail.
A rambling, drunken voicemail from a guy telling her he had a crush on her.
Could this be any more like high school?
Well, like high school in the shows she’d seen on TV since she’d been homeschooled.
What else would they talk about, though? She wasn’t sure if or when she’d share the truth, so maybe small talk was all they had. No talk. How about that?
“Mmhm.” A touch of cocky floated through the sound he made.
“You sure we should stop in Roanoke and not drive straight through?” If she were more focused on driving, then maybe she wouldn’t be distracted by the zing of chills that’d been wrapped around her body from the moment they were on the road.
She was well aware of the source of that zing, too.
They were trapped in this SUV together, so there was no escaping his powerful male presence.
“It’s near midnight. I think you’ve had a jam-packed night already, considering only three hours ago you discharged your weapon in your boss’s house, so I’m thinking driving straight to Alabama isn’t the best idea, even if we take turns. We’ll be fine at a hotel.”
“Not a motel? Shouldn’t we be more discreet?”
“Think about this. In a hotel, we know where all the cameras are located. They’re visible. We know where not to go. In some small, off-the-road Bates Motel, they could have cameras hidden God knows where to catch shady shit happening.”
“Alfred Hitchcock, huh?”
“I mean, I’m not itching to be in what might feel like the set for a horror movie. Been there, done that. No desire to do that again. I hate creepy shit.”
A light laugh left her lips. “I’m sensing there’s a good story there.”
“The last one involved a Russian ghost town. It was no bueno.”
Russian? She tucked her chin down a little and cleared her throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed her slight gasp.
How much did he already know about the Volkovs?
About the ledger? Maybe talking wasn’t such a bad idea after all .
. . get him talking and pry out more details from the Southern Teamguy who didn’t seem to have a problem opening up around her.
A.J. fidgeted with the controls of the radio. “Anyway, I have a credit card in a different name and lots of experience evading cameras and authority of all types. You’re in good hands.”
She had no doubt about that. Her instincts told her that even if this was all a bit insane.
One minute she was at Headquarters with the Deputy AD of the FBI, then about to have dinner with her ex to try and get intel out of him .
. . and the next thing she knew, A.J. was charging into Porter’s house prepared to throw down his life for her.
“Oh, love Blake Shelton and Gwen Stefani,” she said when A.J. settled on a song, deciding to table the heavy work conversation.
When A.J. began softly singing the lyrics to the song, Nobody But You, Ana experienced what felt like a cataclysmic event inside her body. Of course, you can sing. Her nipples pebbled, probably poking through her lacy bra and tee. Thank God it was dark.
He stopped singing a few seconds later, and she felt his eyes on her. “I’m digging the fact you recognize the song . . .”
She glanced at him, catching his smile. He had straight white teeth, and one side of his mouth charmingly hiked up a bit more than the other.
Yeah, A.J. had a great smile. One that could easily seduce her, even at a time when she was risking everything to get answers, to get to the truth.
“I’m eclectic in my music tastes. Plus, I was a big Gwen Stefani fan growing up when she was in No Doubt. ”
“Believe it or not, I am, too.” He leaned his seat back a touch and then set those strong, masculine hands of his on his jeaned legs.
“A Gwen fan or eclectic in your music taste?” she teased.
His brows pulled together, and his smile deepened before she tore her gaze back to the road, so they didn’t crash. “Definitely both.”
Why hadn’t she felt even an iota of whatever was happening to her now when she was with Kyle? A.J.’s mere presence had her body reacting, tightening with a need she hadn’t known was inside of her.
She’d been around good-looking men before. And a lot of them had hit on her. None had made such an impact.
Cold, dead heart. Why wasn’t it cold and dead around A.J.?
She’d enacted Porter’s backup plan, and it’d begun with a bust. But yeah, she was lusting after this man next to her. And the last thing she wanted was for a good man like A.J. to be collateral damage in her pursuit of truth and justice.
“Something about being on the highway late at night soothes my soul,” he said. “It’s calming.”
“Like, so calming if I’d let you drive, you would have fallen asleep behind the wheel?” She captured a quick look at him again, and his eyes were out the side window.
“Nah, I’ve got sleep discipline. I can stay awake when needed but fall asleep at the drop of a hat when allowed. We had no choice back in the Navy.” His tone was a touch heavier when he spoke this time, as if remembering someone or something from his past. “You get rack time whenever you can.”
“What makes the road calming, though?” Being on the road only reminded her of the past, of all her time traveling as a kid. Her few good memories had all been destroyed by the bad ones when she’d turned sixteen. Totally decimated.
“My folks had an RV. Used to pack all five of us kids up and go on road trips to the middle of nowhere. No plans or reservations. Sort of like throwing a dart at a map to see where life would take us. Of course, my brothers and I would sleep in a tent outside while my parents and sister, Ella, stayed in the RV.”
A big family. Must have been nice.
Daddy, can I have a brother? A sister? She remembered begging her parents for a sibling and wishing for one every year when she blew out the candles of her birthday cake.
We got lucky with such a perfect daughter. We don’t want to jinx it and try for more. You’re all we need, my red angel, her dad would respond.
“I bet you loved sleeping outside.” She drew her hand into a fist and set it to her chest, pushing away the happy memory from her past as she’d trained herself to do because the pain of remembering was too much to bear.
“Tents are great, but nothing beats lying out in the back of your pickup beneath a canopy of stars. You don’t get night skies in the city like you do back home. You’ll see when we’re there.” His voice was warm and soft and nearly wrapped her like a blanket.
As nice as staring at a bunch of stars on a dark night sounded, she had to do her best not to let this man get under her skin, or under her clothes. “We’re going there to make a plan, not to—”
“I know,” he interrupted. “Don’t worry, I may be a country boy, but one thing you can count on is the fact that I always get a job done. Close a case. Complete an op.”
“And I’m your op?” She gulped and slid her gaze to the side to catch his eyes.
He tilted his head to the side. “I reckon you’re going to be a lot more than that.”