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“Hold that thought,” he cut me off and dropped one of his hands to the side of my face, cupping my cheek in a rather intimate way.
A jolt of electricity skipped through my veins and I froze like a deer in headlights. “What are you—”
“That Buddy guy just pulled into the rundown shop across the street.”
I tried to turn my head but he stopped me.
“Don’t look; you’ll make us obvious. We need him to walk away from his piece of shit van before we make a move. If he recognizes us, he can hop right back in and take off.”
“Okay, good point. But how do you know it’s him?”
He glanced down at me with a smirk. “He’s wearing a fedora and cowboy boots, just like Zane described.”
“Sounds like a terrible combination.”
“
Oh, it is.”
He discreetly looked back across the street, and began to stroke my cheek with his thumb.
“Is that necessary?”
“Yes. Wrap your arms around my neck.”
Trusting that he had a plan, I reached up and did as he said without protest.
From across the street, I heard two distinct voices and the slamming of a door. Having paid no attention to the shop other than a quick note that it was there—and active—I tried to envision the layout.
“How many people are over there now?”
“Only four. That’s including him.”
“So how long do we stand here and hope he doesn’t notice us? Aren’t we drawing more attention to ourselves like this?”
Hues shifted, coming to rest on mine. Although not unblinking, they remained steady and unwavering. My brain told me to look away, but the warning only had me being drawn in further.
His eyes were deceitful, a complete contradiction to the way he was touching me.
There was nothing within their earthy depths but the same coldness he often gazed at the world with. Something else, too, something I wasn’t sure was wise to acknowledge.
I was confused on some level as to why he would pick now of all times for me to see this, but on another, I understood it. He’d managed to catch me off guard and his method of doing so was as devious as it was brilliant.
“I think you’re right,” he finally said, still maintaining his piercing stare that seemed as if he could see right to the back of my skull.
I attempted to lean my face away from his touch, but there was very little space between us and he didn’t seem inclined to give me any leeway.
“I’m right about what?”
“Plan B. Look less conspicuous.”
“Plan B? You didn’t even tell me what Plan A was.”
His eyes darted away for a fraction of a second, meeting mine once more with that same suspicious glint from moments ago and a hint of a smile waiting at the corners of his mouth.
It wasn’t what I would refer to as friendly. More calculating.
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he warned, gripping my jaw—firmly. And then his mouth was pressing against mine. Whatever thought I’d had burst into flame and went up in smoke.
