Page 27 of Straight Shooter

He gulped down a mouthful of coffee and placed the empty cup in the cupholder. Where the hell was she? His phone buzzed in the seat beside him and he read the number: Brock.

He picked up the device and answered it. “Hey, man, how’re things?”

“Not bad. I heard things are interesting for you in the Keys right now.” Brock didn’t even try to hide the devilish tone in his singsong voice.

“Who’ve you been talking to?” Before he admitted anything, he needed to find out what exactly Brock thought he knew.

Rhett hung his wrist on the bottom of the steering wheel and watched as a young family exited the hotel. If Peyton didn’t come out soon, he’d have to stretch his legs, which could be dangerous—she might see him.

“Never mind that. I’m just glad you’re getting some spice in your life.”

Rhett guffawed. “You know nothing about the spice in my life, but I can assure you last night was free of it.” He hadn’t intended for dryness to seep into his words, yet there it was. “Cut the shit and tell me what Dani said.”

“Not much.” Some of the laughter left Brock’s voice. “Just that you bumped into Priss—Peyton Risk, I mean—while she was on a job.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Really, that’s it? I thought something sparked between you two.”

Rhett’s antennae sprang to life, and he sat forward. Wiping his hand over his mouth, he forced himself to pause before responding. “Are you trying to get a rise out of me?”

“Always,” he said, though confusion twined with the statement. “But I thought there was more to it for you. Dani said Peyton sounded kind of hung up—ow! Shit.”

Dani’s verbal assault on Brock hammered the earpiece.

“One sec,” Brock said. “Sorry, babe. How was I supposed to know it was a secret?”

“I told you in confidence, that’s how!”

Rhett rolled his eyes and focused his gaze on the hotel’s entrance again. Strawberry-blonde hair caught the sunlight, followed by the fluttery material of a pink dress. His heart lurched in his chest, and he tightened his hold on the steering wheel.

“Gotta go, Brock. Call you later.” He hung up, pocketed his phone, and watched as Peyton stormed out of the hotel, pausing only to glance left then right. Red tinted her cheeks, and the skin beneath the blotches was pasty white. Her wild eyes darted every which way before she rushed into the flow of pedestrians.

“Shit.” He got out of the car and waited for traffic to slow. Why was Peyton running? And why the hell did she look as if she’d just seen a ghost? A flash of movement caught his eye. Dark suit, bald head . . .

No.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he bolted into the street. A horn blared, and Rhett jumped out of the way of a taxi. A bus came to a screeching halt as he crossed the eastbound lane. Reaching the sidewalk, still running, he scanned the bobbing heads. No sign of Peyton or Beanie.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Taking a chance, he turned down an alleyway. Garbage bags were piled high beside dumpsters, and the rancid scent of rotting food in the morning heat hit his face. His T-shirt clung to his back, and the weapon at the waistband of his pants jostled against his tailbone. The screech of sirens filled the air, raising his hackles. He picked up the pace.

Please, don’t let me miss them.

The end of the alley loomed before him, and he rounded the corner. A frantic body slammed into his chest. Strawberry-blonde hair whacked him in the eye, and Peyton’s sweet scent overpowered the odor of garbage. She let out a squeak and shoved at his chest.

“Peyton, it’s me!”

She stopped trying to escape and searched his face. Relief clouded her eyes. “He’s right behind me,” she said on a gasp.

Snagging her shoulders, he dragged her into the alley and pushed her back against the wall, pressing his body into hers. Then he pulled the gun from his back and held it at his side, ready to fire.

“Did he see which way you went?”

She wet her lips. Her breasts brushed his chest with their every rise and fall. “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “I think I lost him at the intersection. He’s been chasing me since I saw him on my floor.”

He snapped his attention to her face. “How’d you get away?”