4
Jill’s heart danced beneath her boobs as she drove her hot red Honda hatchback onto I-95 heading North towards Philadelphia. She’d almost passed out when Jack got back into the car, buckled himself into her passenger seat, and calmly informed her that he was riding with her because . . . because why, exactly?
You know why, came the excited whisper from her thumping heart.
Stop it, Jill informed her silly heart which seemed totally oblivious to the real world. But the excitement still burned bright, a thrill that was way too intense to make sense.
Well, at least Jill didn’t want it to make sense. Because what made logical sense was to stay away from this man. After all, even though it appeared that Jack might have been telling the truth, that he might in fact be a former military guy working for some private security-type outfit, it didn’t mean she was out of danger.
She was just in a different sort of danger now.
“Relax,” came Jack’s voice through her humming head. “I’m not really going to crash your friend’s wedding.”
Jill smiled, blinking herself back into focus, then losing the smile when she remembered why Nina’s wedding was going to be complicated. “No worries. I’m sort of crashing it too.”
Jack frowned. “Wait, your so-called best friend didn’t even invite you? Oh, hell, now I’m really interested. What’s the deal? You two both in love with the same guy?”
“Ohmygod, no!” Jill almost shrieked out the indignant response. “Bobby Carmine? Yuck. Just the thought gives me the creeps.”
“Good,” Jack muttered under his breath before quickly turning his face and looking out his window, like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
Jill frowned when she picked up a hint of what felt like jealousy but of course couldn’t be jealousy because jealousy implied possessiveness and togetherness, and they were not together and Jack certainly did not possess her.
That last thought sent a chill creeping through her, but it wasn’t the chilly sort of chill and it wasn’t the creepy sort of creeping.
“Wait, Bobby Carmine?” Jack said now, whipping his head towards her, gaze narrowed to a sharp focus. “Tell me he isn’t part of the Carmine Mafia Family. He’s not one of those Carmines, is he?”
Jill shrugged noncommittally. “Nina says he is. That’s partly why she’s into him. She’s young and na?ve, totally enamored with Bobby’s lame-ass macho bravado which is mostly fueled by all the drugs he’s always jacked up on. Nina’s got some unrealistically romantic image of mafia bad-boys stuck in her head. Doesn’t see that she’s marrying a violent womanizing addict who’s going to wreck her life if he hasn”t already.”
Jack exhaled heavily, his face drawn with a seriousness Jill hadn’t seen in him yet. Gone were the cocky grins and the wolfish winks. “Listen, Jill. If this guy Bobby is part of the Carmine Family, your friend Nina has bigger problems than her soon-to-be husband’s drug habits or womanizing or whatever.”
“Oh, really?” Jill shot a sharp gaze at Jack before glancing back at the road. “Drug use and womanizing seem like pretty big problems for a marriage, if you ask me.”
“Yeah, they are. That’s my fucking point, Jill. That shit is just the tip of the iceberg with these sorts of crime families,” Jack growled. “Which is why you need to walk away from your friend Nina. Just forget about her. Once she’s part of that family, you want to have nothing to do with her, trust me. If you stay friends with her, the Feds will eventually get their hooks into you. They’ll arrest you on some bullshit charge, then force you to wear a wire when you hang out with your friend Nina and her thug husband Bobby Carmine. You’ll be forced to become an informant, and that’s a one-way ticket to being put on a mafia hitlist. Even if the entire Carmine Family goes to prison—which is pretty unlikely because they’re probably lawyered up with some of the best—it’ll eventually leak that you wore a wire. Someone will get to you and take you out. You’ll never be safe again. This is serious shit, Jill.”
Jill gulped back a rush of anxiety, managed to keep her focus on the road. She took a breath, then shook her head firmly. “Well, there’s no danger of me ever becoming an informant because I’ll never be welcome at the Carmine Family dinner table. Not if I pull this off.”
Jack stared at her with concern. “Pull what off?”
Jill said nothing. She glanced at the upcoming sign marking the distance to Philly. They still had ninety miles to go. Shit. Why did she agree to let him ride with her? She didn’t want to talk about this. Didn’t want to even think about it.
Because she was smart enough to know that if she really thought about it, she wouldn’t do it.
And she had to do it.
Even if Nina would hate her for it.
Shit, Nina already hated her, so what difference did it make, right?
“Talk to me, Jill. Pull what off? What the hell are you planning to do?” Jack’s body was turned towards her now, his warm masculine musk rising up from beneath his open jacket. There was a strange intensity to his concern that made it seem like they were more than just strangers, like he actually gave a damn about her. “Oh, hell, Jill. Don’t tell me you’re going to that wedding with some half-baked idea that you’re going to stop them from getting married! Please don’t tell me you’re going to walk into a fucking mafia wedding and try to stop it from happening!”
“OK,” Jill said, keeping her gaze fixed on the highway. “I won’t tell you that. Happy? Now, can we talk about something else?”
“No.” Jack crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head like his decision actually had some authority over Jill. “We’re talking about this. You are not going to that wedding, Jill.”
Jill snorted, her eyes going wide with disbelief. “Since when do you have any say in what I can and cannot do?”
“Since now,” Jack said with a firmness that should have made Jill angry but instead made her cast a curious gaze at this muscular square-jawed military man whom she’d started off thinking was a murderer, then a carjacker, and now . . . shit, what was he to her now?
“Look,” Jill said hurriedly, before her humming heart could answer that last question about what Jack was to her now. “I read about the Carmine Family online, OK? They’re not some big-time organization like you see in those old mafia movies. Besides, I’ve read that the mafia is pretty much dead in America these days.”
“You’ll be dead if you don’t listen to me,” Jack muttered, arms still crossed over his chest. “Look, the American mafia doesn’t operate like it used to in the old days. Back then protection, extortion, gambling, and maybe prostitution was what the big Mafia Families did. But that’s no longer where the money is, so the Mafia Families had to adapt. They’re all in the drug trade now, Jill. Working with Colombian and Mexican Cartels, using their own connections with dockworkers unions and customs to get drug shipments into the United States. That’s why those online articles say the mafia is dead now. It’s because they’re basically just big drug gangs now. It’s a dark world, Jill. And trust me, you need to stay far away from that world.”
Jill gulped back another wave of fear. Some part of her knew all this, but she’d locked that part of her away, told herself that loyalty was more important than safety, that she couldn’t turn her back on Nina, had to do what she could to stop that once-radiant little sunflower Nina from being totally destroyed by Bobby Carmine and his drug-infested world of violence and darkness.
A world that Jill knew already had its claws sunk deep into Nina’s soul.
“You need to let her go, Jill,” Jack was saying softly when she pulled herself together enough to listen to him again. “If Nina is a grown woman who is knowingly entering into a marriage with a drug-running thug, then you have to cut your losses and let her go. You have to know that, Jill. You’re smart enough to see it.”
Jill’s lower lip jutted out in that childish stubborn pout that used to work for her when she was a little girl but had mostly worked against her as an adult woman. Still, that stubborn streak was hard-wired into her personality, and it was being activated right now by Jack’s own stubborn declarations of authority.
“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” Jill pointed out hotly, lower lip still pouty and jutting, eyebrows rising in stubborn synchronicity as she felt her own claws digging in, holding on to the decision she’d made even though she was making it with her heart and not her head. Her heart that was heavy with guilt. “I know it isn’t the smartest thing to do, all right? But it’s not like I’m going to run in there screaming for them to stop the damn wedding, Jack. I’m just going to try to get Nina alone before the wedding. Talk to her, see if I can change her mind before it’s too late.”
“You’re lying,” Jack said. It was a statement, not a guess, like he saw right through her veneer of reasonableness that Jill hoped would hide the streak of obstinate irrationality that made her do things grown-ups should not do. “Your so-called best friend didn’t even invite you to her wedding. Which means you’ve already tried to change her mind and she’s told you to fuck off. I bet she’s blocked your phone number and your social media messages and all that.” He gazed coolly at her now, his eyes dark with some sort of depth that made Jill tingle inside. “And you brought a gown to wear to the wedding, which means you know you aren’t getting access to your friend Nina before the wedding. And that means you’re going to crash the wedding and try to stop it before they take their vows.” He smiled with smug satisfaction. “Correct me anytime, sweetheart.”
“The first correction is that I’m not your sweetheart, so if you call me that again, I’ll drop your carjacking ass at the side of the highway,” Jill informed him huffily. “And yes, the dress is in case I do need to go to the actual wedding. But that’s a last resort. The wedding isn’t till Sunday, so I’ve got a couple of days to get to Nina. I can get through to her. I know I can. I . . . I have to get through to her.”
Jill’s voice trembled at that last sentence, enough that Jack’s lingering gaze felt uncomfortably penetrating. He stayed quiet for a long tense moment, watching her in a way that did something to her insides, twisting them this way and that, making her hot and anxious, certain he could see inside her.
“Why?” His voice was calm, confident, like the word wasn’t a question but simply a prompt for her to keep going, keep talking, keep opening up because he wanted to get inside. “Why do you have to get through to her? Why is it your responsibility to change her mind when she’s clearly not interested in changing her own mind? She isn’t being forced into this marriage, is she?”
Jill shook her head, her lower lip jutting out again as the guilt pressed down on her like a weighted blanket. “No. She thinks she loves him. But she doesn’t. She can’t.”
Jack grunted, raised a curious eyebrow. “And you know that because you’re an expert on love?”
Jill’s grip on the wheel tightened as she overtook a semi-truck with a cartoon cow painted on the side. “It doesn’t take an expert to know the difference between love and . . . and whatever Nina thinks she feels for Bobby Carmine.” She gritted her teeth, shook her head, huffed out a frustrated breath. “Look, I don’t want to talk about this, all right? It’s . . . it’s complicated.”
Jack shrugged with an irritating coolness. “Seems pretty simple to me. You’re jealous that your best friend found true love, and now you want to stop the wedding. It’s like a sisterhood rivalry thing. I think I saw it on some melodramatic soap-opera episode.”
Jill almost choked on a sudden burst of indignant anger. “OK, you’re getting off at the next exit. Or screw that, I’m pulling over on the shoulder. You can walk to Philly for all I care.” She flicked on her signal, started to move over towards the shoulder, then saw the wicked grin on Jack’s face and groaned. “You asshole. You’re baiting me. Trying to provoke a reaction so I get defensive and tell you the truth.”
Jack’s grin was wolf-wide now. “Is it working?”
Jill moved over to the slow lane near the shoulder, then checked her mirrors, sighed, and sped up again. “All right. Since you’re clearly not going to shut up and let me drive in peace, I’ll tell you.”
Jack grunted with smug triumph, pumped his fist in victory, then relaxed in his seat and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “I’m waiting,” he declared after Jill merged back into the middle lane and sped up to traffic-speed. “Don’t make me speculate again on the inner workings of the female psyche, Jill. Because I’ve got some great theories that date back to when cavemen roamed the land in search of those rare cavewomen who shaved their legs.”
Jill stifled a laugh, shook her head with feigned annoyance, then rolled her eyes and took a breath. “You sound like a true scholar of the caveman-cavewoman dynamic. Your wife or girlfriend is a very lucky woman.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Are you being sarcastic? Because my wife or girlfriend would most certainly be a very lucky woman. If she existed. Which she doesn’t.” He rubbed his jaw and frowned as he eyed her up and down with dramatic obviousness. “Well, she might exist. She just isn’t my girlfriend or wife yet.”
Jill felt the blush burn her cheeks as her butt tightened on the seat. The guy was obviously a shameless flirt, the kind of cocky player who was always on his game, like hitting on anything with a vagina was just habit, an addiction to constantly inflate his fragile male ego. “You can’t turn it off, can you, Jack?” she said with an eye-roll that she wasn’t able to pull off with the nonchalance she’d intended.
Jack grinned wickedly. “Wait, did you think I was talking about you? Oh, please. Do I look like the type who wears knitted sweaters? Because I guarantee that your husband or boyfriend gets one for Christmas every year. If he exists, of course.” His grin was now big enough that Jill hoped his smug face hurt. “Does he exist, Jill? Husband? Boyfriend? Lover?” His voice dropped to a teasing whisper. “Booty-call? Fuck-buddy?”
Jill gasped, her face brighter than a tomato in season. “OK, you are just shameless! Who asks those questions to somebody they just met? Somebody they just . . . attacked?”
“Actually, you attacked me,” Jack pointed out. “Using this car as a weapon. You’re lucky I have the reflexes of a panther, or else I’d be missing two kneecaps right now.”
This time Jill’s eye-roll came easy. “Setting aside the self-congratulatory comparison to a panther, I fail to see why I’m the lucky one. That whole thing ended with you smashing my moonroof and pointing a gun at my head.”
Jack grunted. “The safety was on, sweetheart. I wasn’t going to blow your brains out all over that nice blue dress. Is that satin? It’s very shiny.”
“You’re very shiny,” Jill muttered, not even sure what she meant by that. She changed lanes to overtake a minivan packed with more kids than seemed reasonable. When she glanced over at Jack, he was still grinning. It was infectious, and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling back. His game was good. It almost felt genuine, like he actually liked her. Though of course Jill knew that a player-type like Jack had learned how to make all his targets feel like they were special.
Special for one night.
Nope.
Not happening, buddy.
Not my thing.
Not my type.
“Nah, you don’t seem like the fuck-buddy type,” Jack said thoughtfully, like he was type-casting her out loud just like she was doing to him in her mind. “Besides, you couldn’t knit a sweater for a fuck-buddy. It sends the wrong signal. I guess you could do a scarf. Maybe some socks. Or a dick-sock.” He grinned. “Is that a thing?”
“You tell me,” Jill said. “Does your dick get cold in the winter because of overexposure?”
Jack exploded with laughter. “Damn, that was a solid burn, baby. Overexposed dick? That’s good.”
“Why, thank you.” Jill was beetroot-red but smiling wider than she had in years. She knew because the sides of her mouth hurt, like those smile-muscles hadn’t been stretched this much in forever. “I’m here all night.”
Jack chuckled, was about to say something, but then frowned and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out his vibrating phone. “Yeah, go ahead, Keller.”
Jill smiled when Jack moved the phone to his other ear so she couldn’t eavesdrop on whatever top-secret stuff he was involved in. Then her smile faded when the events of the day rushed back into her consciousness, tightening her throat as the shocking memory of seeing a dead body and having a gun held to her head combined with the gnawing knowledge that she was walking into a dangerous situation with Nina and Bobby Carmine.
And now all the practical considerations of self-preservation and safety began to break through the barrier of guilt-enforced determination she’d placed around them. Jack’s warning had been serious, and his concern for her safety had opened up some vulnerable part of her, like there was something in her cavewoman core that was responding to the protective concern of a square-jawed broad-chested warrior who could punch through moonroofs and leap over Honda hatchbacks.
Now her heart leaped when Jack hung up and rubbed his square jaw and crossed his caveman-sized forearms over his broad chest and glanced at her strangely. “The actual wedding isn’t till Sunday, you said?”
Jill nodded. “Why?”
Jack took a breath. “Is there an event at the Carmine Mansion tonight? Some kind of pre-wedding party? These mafia weddings often have a series of events leading up to the big day. It gives them a good cover to conduct business.”
“Yes, cocktails and dinner tonight at the Carmine Mansion for the arriving guests,” Jill said. “A champagne brunch on the Estate tomorrow late morning, followed by the Rehearsal Dinner Saturday night for those in the wedding, ending with more cocktails for the rest of the guests.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Why do you know all the details?”
Jill sighed. “Because Nina asked me to be her Maid of Honor when she was planning the whole thing.” She sighed again. “And I’d said yes at first. It was six months ago. Things changed after that.”
“What changed? You or her?” Jack’s question surprised her. He might have the square jaw of a caveman, but he wasn’t dumb. Jill was slightly ashamed for type-casting him as a meathead just because he carried a lot of meat on his body.
“Both, I guess.” Jill’s voice wavered as the guilt washed over her again. “She . . . she started using again. Said that Bobby was going to take care of her, that they were both going to rehab after the wedding, that they were going to be partied out by then and ready to settle down.”
Jack’s gaze softened briefly, then hardened. “Shit. Bobby Carmine got her hooked on drugs?”
“No.” Jill gulped back the bile-bitter taste of raw guilt. “I did.”
Jack stared. Then he snorted and shook his head. “I don’t believe it. What the hell are you talking about, Jill?”
Jill stared coldly at the darkening horizon. The sun was setting, the early winter darkness moving in like fingers of a giant hand closing in around their little red Honda hatchback. “Two years ago. We were out at a club in West Philly. Bobby Carmine was there with some of his friends. We didn’t know who he was—didn’t know anything, really.” She shrugged gloomily. “He kept buying us drinks. Was totally into Nina, absolutely starry-eyed. She was flattered, and I was happy for her.” Another sigh, and Jill’s shoulders slumped even lower as that bile taste flooded her mouth with its vile sickness. “Then he offered us a couple of pills. Some sort of party drug, I don’t know what. He said it would make us dance all night.” Jill’s face was ashen, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “I said no, but Nina wanted to try it. She said she’d only do it if I did it with her. She was having such a good time with Bobby, and although I didn’t like him, he didn’t seem to be hitting on any other girls at the club, was totally focused on Nina.” Jill sighed, changing her grip on the steering wheel, then sighing again. “So I took the pill with her. First and last time I ever did anything like that. But I still did it. I wish I hadn’t, but I did. Oh, shit, I hate myself for doing it. I was supposed to be the responsible one, you know? I’m older than her, and Nina always looked up to me in some way, so when I took the pill with her . . .”
Jack nodded beside her, reached out and placed his big palm over her white-knuckled hand gripping the steering wheel. “Nina saw it as an approval, like a child who looks to a parent for guidance on the right thing to do.” He smiled with a warmth that sent ripples through Jill, squeezing her hand gently, his touch warm and reassuring in a strangely familiar way. “She got sucked into that world of drugs and partying, and you blamed yourself because of that first time.” He sighed, shook his head, gazed at her warmly. “But Jill, you must know that it’s not your fault, right? Bobby Carmine pulled Nina into that world. You didn’t push her into it. Besides, she made her own choices, one of which is to marry the guy who dragged her into this dark pit of addiction. What you’re planning to do isn’t going to accomplish anything except get you in trouble, get you hurt.” He paused, that warmly reassuring look hardening to a firm decisiveness that once again felt oddly familiar, strangely personal, deeply intimate, like he was already playing the role of protector, maybe without even knowing it. “It could even get you killed. No way, Jill. You aren’t going to that wedding alone.”
Jill frowned, was about to inform him haughtily that he wasn’t the boss of her, wasn’t a damn thing to her, but then stopped when she went over Jack’s words.
“Wait, I’m confused.” Jill’s frown cut deeper, making her left eyebrow twitch as she glanced at Jack, who was doing something on his phone again. “Earlier you said I shouldn’t go to that wedding at all. Now you just said I shouldn’t go there alone. Does that mean . . .”
She trailed off as Jack finished tapping and swiping. He slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket, then looked up at her with a matter-of-fact nod. “Yup. I’m going with you to the wedding. To all the events, in fact.” He shrugged and settled into his seat like he was making himself at home in not just her car but her life too. “Look, I can’t tell you all the details right now, but this guy we’re tracking—Diego—looks like he contacted somebody in the Philadelphia area, a burner phone which just popped back online.” He took a breath, gazed at her with a hint of knowing more than he was letting on. “We tracked it to the Carmine Estate, Jill. To the mansion where this evening’s cocktail party must be just getting started.”
Jill blinked about forty times, her eyelids going into hyper-flutter mode like a panicking butterfly. “I . . . I don’t follow. What does that mean?”
Jack smiled tightly. “It means Diego called somebody who is attending the very same wedding you are about to crash with your blue dress and guilty conscience. It could be someone in the Carmine Family, could be a guest, could be a damn caterer, for all we know. Either way, I’ve got a way into the wedding now, so I’ll be able to scope out the crowd, narrow it down, figure out who it is so we can track them without raising the alarm, hopefully get to Diego that way.”
Jill was still blinking as her head spun faster than her car’s wheels. “You . . . you have a way into the wedding now? What . . . what’s that way?”
“You’re that way,” Jack said merrily. “You’re my way into the wedding, Jill.” He pulled out his phone again, began to swipe and tap. “I’ll need some formal clothes, probably. And a hotel room for the weekend.” He glanced up. “Hey, you must have a hotel room, right?”
Jill almost collapsed over the steering wheel. She couldn’t even figure out how to breathe right now, let alone respond to whatever the hell that question implied.
“Relax,” said Jack with a half-grin. “I meant which hotel are you staying at. I’ll get a room at the same place. It’ll make it easier to coordinate.”
“Coordinate what, exactly?” Jill’s mind was a spinning whirlpool of hot emotion right now, her body buzzing with something that was alarmingly exciting. “Jack, I am not your way into Nina’s wedding! I told you, I’m not even invited!”
“Well, you’re sure as hell more invited than I am.” Jack turned to her. “Look, you brought a dress with you, which means you know you’ll be able to talk your way into the wedding events. You’re going to pretend that you had a change of heart and want to be at your best friend’s wedding after all. If Nina has always looked up to you, she’ll be thrilled that you want to make up with her, that you’ve showed up to give her your blessings.”
“Except I’m not here to give her my blessings, Jack!”
Jack shrugged. “Sure, but you need to get close to her to have that conversation. And you’re not going to get close to her without faking your way in with a friendly smile and a sisterly hug.” He grinned. “And I’m not getting in at all without being your date. So it works out great for both of us. Mutually beneficial. Win-win situation. You scratch mine, I tickle yours.”
Jill tried to stop herself from imagining exactly what of Jack’s she’d be scratching and what of hers he wanted to tickle with those thick fingers. She exhaled heavily, shook her head in disbelief. “And how exactly do I benefit from you being there, pray tell?”
Jack grinned. “You kidding me? I told you I’m a great dancer. Now, which hotel, Jill? You know what, never mind. There’s only one hotel within ten miles of the Carmine Estate. The Winchester. Wow. Fancy place. I bet the Carmines have an ownership stake in the place. All right, here we go, searching for rooms . . .” He tapped those tickly fingers furiously, did some serious swiping, then bit his lower lip and looked up at her. “And . . . it’s full. No vacancy. Every room in the Winchester is booked for the wedding party.”
Now Jack stared at her in expectant silence. It took a moment for Jill to realize what he was asking with that look in his eyes, that grin on his lips.
“Ohmygod, no!” Jill lurched forward as the realization hit her like a tickle in the coochie. “Absolutely not. Are you insane? You actually think I’m going to let you stay in my hotel room? What do you think this is, a scene from some dumb rom-com? Or those soap-operas you seem to use for research?”
“All right, look.” Jack blinked twice, losing the grin. “Jokes aside, this is serious as hell. For both of us. You’re walking into a situation which could be very dangerous for you. And whatever else you think of me, you know for damn sure that I can handle myself in danger.” He paused, took a breath, gazing at her with an unsettling seriousness. “And I can handle you in danger, Jill. You want to break up a mafia wedding with a couple hundred guests and bodyguards around, you might need somebody standing in your corner. We all need backup sometimes. This is one of those times for you, Jill. I can help you and you know it. So help me get to whoever Diego knows in the Carmine circle of dirtbags. What I said earlier is true, Jill. You’re walking into a world with some very bad people, and I’m one of the good guys in this situation.”
Jill drove in silence for what felt like a long time but the dashboard clock insisted was less than one minute. “I need to know more about you before I agree to anything,” she said softly. “Can you prove you’re former military?”
Jack paused a moment, then nodded. He unbuckled his seatbelt, took off his jacket, then in one breathtakingly smooth motion pulled off his black tee shirt.
And just like that he was shirtless beside her in this hot little Honda that felt like it was steaming up.
Jill gasped when she caught a glimpse of Jack’s bare chest which was like two slabs of shining marble leading to an abdomen ridged with coiled muscle like a dragon’s scales. She gasped again like it was the only way she could breathe when she looked again and saw that his spectacularly chiseled body was decorated with an intriguing collage of tattoos, many of which were faded to lighter shades of black, like Jack’s body had been a canvas for generations of tattoo-artists.
“Got that one after our Army Football team won the National Championship,” Jack said, directing her gaze along his body like it was a written record of his life. “This one after graduating West Point. Got this after getting through Ranger School. This is from when I got accepted into Delta Force.”
Jill slowed the car down as her attention left the road and tumbled down the muscle-ridged path carved into this man’s body. She was entranced by the twists and turns of the black ink infused into Jack’s rippling torso and bulging arms, and there was no questioning what it was doing to her own body. She gulped back the gush of hot arousal, hoped to heaven that her sweater still covered her lap, then blinked when something else on Jack’s body caught her eye.
“What’s that?” she asked, briefly taking her hand off the wheel to point. “That round bumpy thing. Is it a scar?”
“Old bullet wound,” Jack said with a grunt. Then he looked up and winked. “But you should have seen the other guy.”
Jill blinked in shock, then gulped when she glanced into this military man’s eyes and saw the shining depth in his green gaze, understood that beneath this man’s cocky who-gives-a-shit veneer was the burning core of a warrior who’d bled for his country, who’d fought America’s enemies while she and millions of other Americans lived blessed lives without ever understanding the sacrifices made to keep them safe, to keep them secure.
Sacrifices made by hard men like Jack.
Hard men who’d fought America’s enemies and won.
“You should have seen the other guy?” Jill whispered under her breath, repeating his words absentmindedly like she was entranced, enthralled, enraptured. She blinked herself back into focus, forced a shy smile that trembled with a mixture of awe and excitement. “Was that on a Delta Force mission? Can you . . . can you tell me about it?”
“Delta Missions are all classified.” Jack pulled his shirt back on over his head, covered up his muscled canvas of tattoo-ink, buckled his seatbelt, then glanced over at her and grinned. “I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kiss you.”
Jill blinked twice, forced a little smile. “You meant to say kill me, right?”
“Nope,” Jack said with a sparkle in his eyes. “How else will I seal your lips after revealing our nation’s best kept secrets?”
Jill rolled her eyes even though she couldn’t stop the smile inspired by his relentlessly infectious flirting. “Nation’s secrets like your dick? Oh wait, your buddies said that wasn’t the nation’s best kept secret. My bad. Got it backwards.”
“Keep up those jokes and you’ll get it both backwards and forwards in our hotel room later tonight, baby,” Jack growled with exaggerated growliness that made her giggle. “Now, back to business. Are we good on sharing a bed?”
“What? No! Of course not!” Jill almost shrieked out the response. “I haven’t even agreed to share my hotel room! Besides, I’ve booked a room with two double-beds.”
“Well, that’s disappointing,” Jack said with a loud sigh. “Being forced to share the hotel’s last bed is the plotline for all my favorite porno movies.” He grinned as Jill did her best to stare straight ahead with a straight face even though everything inside her was twisting and turning, bubbling and churning. “You can laugh, you know. It’s all right to laugh at sexual humor, Jill.”
“I’d laugh if it were funny,” Jill retorted, not daring to look into his dancing green eyes. “But right now the only good joke is you thinking you can talk me into letting you stay in my hotel room. Not happening. Philadelphia is a big city, Jack. There are hundreds of hotels and motels.”
Jack shook his head. “The Carmine Estate is a twenty-acre plot in a fancy-ass suburb. The Winchester is the only hotel within reasonable distance. Besides, Diego’s mystery contact might be staying there too.” He shrugged, made himself comfortable in his seat like it was a done deal. “And anyway, nobody’s going to believe we’re together if we’re staying at different hotels twenty miles apart.”
Jill stared at the setting sun as another green-backed highway sign counted down the distance to Philadelphia. She glanced at Jack, whose eyes were now closed like he was either napping or meditating, as if there was to be no further discussion.
Jill sighed, considered arguing some more, but instead she kept her lips clamped shut and stared at the darkening highway, wondering why her body was still humming with excitement, the fear now just a distant memory, that gnawing anxiety which she’d buried just so she could force herself to make the drive up to Philly nowhere to be found, like it had dissolved because her body knew it was protected, her heart knew it was secure, her soul knew it was safe.
Safe with him.