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Her smile is my undoing. Leaning forward, I take her lips, needing to taste her, just for a moment. “Now. My next question—are you claustrophobic?”
***
Mindy
I remember my dad taking me to the circus whenever it came to town. The illusion of it all amazed me. I always wondered how those women folded themselves into the magic box. Mostly, though, I wondered how they managed to be cut in half and still live. Not that anyone was cutting me in half, but when Tate suggested I turn myself into a human pretzel and hide in a small shipping container so the bellman could roll me out without being seen, I was all over it.
That was before. I’ve never been in such a small space and can officially say I am one-hundred percent claustrophobic.
I try counting, but it uses too much energy, and the air capacity is not impressive. Tate promised it wouldn’t be more than ten minutes, but it feels like hours have gone by.
The plan was for Tate to get into one vehicle while our “things” that being me, are loaded into another. We’ll drive to make sure there’s no tail and meet in a safe place where another car would be waiting. That’s when I get to pop out and yell,“Surprise!”If I’m conscious, that is. Just when my eyes start to fog over, the locks click, and the sun stabs at my eyes.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Surprise,” I sing without enough jazz. “Dammit, I wanted that to be more theatrical.” I attempt to unfold my feet, but they’re numb. Thankfully, Tate catches me before I tumble out of the box.
“Easy. I’ve got you.”
“Did the plan work?”
“I think so. But we need to keep moving.” He escorts me to a large truck and settles me into the passenger seat. Moments later, we’re speeding down the highway.
“What now?”
“We hide while the police seek.”
“Sounds fun. Do I get a weapon?” He cocks his head my way. “I mean, we always got weapons when I was a kid. Like a pitchfork… or a squirt gun.”
“I’m not sure I trust you with a weapon. You’ll just have to use that feisty tongue of yours. Sure as hell would scare me off.”
Aw, he’s cute. And going to get it. “Don’t underestimate this mouth. I’ve been known to take men down.” A rumble fills my chest at the darkness that shadows his now seething gaze. That one blew up in his face. “What happens if Sheldon does the seeking first?”
Tate reaches for my hand and pulls it to his leg. “That ain’t gonna happen. We’re going off-grid. No phones, no Wi-Fi. Unless you’re given the exact coordinates, there’s no way to track us.” That gives me a small sense of relief. “We’ve got a few hours ahead of us. Why don’t you get some rest? Once we get into town, we’ll stop and pick up some supplies.”
“I doubt I can sleep right now. How long are we planning on staying there?”
“Until Sheldon is caught.”
As heavenly as being cooped up in a secluded cabin with Tate all to myself sounds, I hope they catch this maniac. “Cool. While we wait, maybe I’ll practice my feisty mouth skills on you. Make sure I can get the job done.” He squeezes my hand until I let out a small squeal. “Ouch! Okay, no practice on you—”
“Oh, I’m going to let you practice. And it’s only going to be on me. Anyone else gets a hole between the eyes.”
Wow. Not sure if that was scary or seriously freaking sexy. I look at the open road and wonder how good Tate is at driving while having sex. Instead of causing an accident, I divert. “Have you ever played the name game?”
“Say again?” He cocks his head.
“Name game. I say a name, then you say a first name that starts with the first letter of the last name. If you do a double letter, it comes back to me.”
He looks uninterested, but I start the game anyway. “I’ll go first. Taylor Swift—”
“Steven Tyler.”
For someone who looked less than pleased to play, he sure had his answer ready. “Tom Cruise—”
“Charles Manson.”
“Matt Damon.”
