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“An idiot?” Lex suggested helpfully.
“A huge idiot,” she emphasized.
“Well, because of his absolute idiocy, you’re now in trouble. But I don’t want you to worry. You’ll be safe at my house. Once we get there, we’ll notify the cops, too.” There was no way in hell he was taking her back to her house. The men he just ran off the road would likely head back there when they couldn’t follow her, and the original two thugs were also likely to return at some point. Hell, for all they knew, even more men might show up. Who knew what her ex had gotten involved in, and it was impossible to know just how many people were looking for him.
“What if I can’t get a hold of him?” He hated how worried she sounded.
“We’ll figure out what’s happening with or without him. Tomorrow, we’ll talk to my team.”
“Your team?” she echoed, sounding perplexed.
“Yeah…so I’m not exactly retired from the military.” Her eyes widened. “I mean, technically, I am. But my friends and I have been doing some off-the-books jobs. Things I can’t really talk about.”
“Ohhh. So you have…connections?”
His mouth edged up. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”
It didn’t take long to reach his house and he parked the Yukon beside his dad’s old pea green station wagon.
“You weren’t kidding about the station wagon,” Summer said.
“No. It was my dad’s. Sometimes I like to drive it around because…”
When he didn’t finish the sentence, Summer merely nodded. “I know,” she whispered, resting a hand on his arm. They shared a small, sad smile.
“C’mon, it’s late. And we need to call the cops.”
They walked through the front door and she looked around. Not that there was much to look at. His place didn’t have many bells or whistles. It screamed bachelor pad with zero feminine touches. Beige walls and beige carpet, exactly how the previous owner left it. A beige couch. A couple of other generic pieces he’d bought and assembled himself from Ikea. He’d never considered himself a decorator. Two big, worn leather recliners sat in front of a large screen TV mounted on the wall. He sat in the one on the right, and when his dad used to come over, he’d sat in the left one. Lex didn’t have the heart to move the chair his dad had used. It might be silly, but when he sat and watched a sports game, he could still hear his dad cheering for his favorite team or heckling the opposing team. Keeping that chair beside him was strangely comforting, like his dad was still there with him.
The only decor consisted of model airplanes and photos of him in jets or standing beside them. Summer zeroed in on the bookshelf where the framed photos sat between some old books that had belonged to his dad.
“Is this you?” She whirled around, holding out the picture of him leaning against his jet. It had been during his time at Top Gun, and he’d been at the height of his cockiness—young, shirtless and wearing aviators. He’d even thrown an ammunition belt round his neck, because why the hell not?
He tried not to squirm. Christ, that felt like forever ago. He’d been so young and naive. The absolute picture of arrogance. But, at the same time, those moments had been some of the best of his life. He’d grown by leaps and bounds since then, and he could recognize the changes he’d embraced, because they’d made him a better man. “My friend and I were joking around. He later framed the picture and gave it to me as a gag gift.”
She chuckled, but he didn’t miss the way her gaze lingered on it. Those were definitely his glory days and, even though he sometimes missed them, his present had suddenly become way more interesting than his past. Now that Summer had breezed into his life, he wanted to stay exactly where he was, with her.
After carefully setting the frame back on the shelf, she studied the picture beside it. “Your dad?” she asked, and he nodded. “I can see the resemblance.”
“Everyone always said we have the same eyes.”
She looked over at him, a smile softening her beautiful face. “You do. Bluer than the Caribbean. Was he as charming as you?”
“More so.” Lex huffed out a rough-sounding laugh. “When he was at the care facility, he had those nurses wrapped around his finger. They adored him. Everyone loved my dad.”
“I’m sure they did. I wish I could’ve met him,” she murmured, returning the frame to its shelf.
“He would’ve loved you. Probably would’ve shamelessly flirted with you, too.”
“It must run in the Battle blood.”
“Are you calling me a shameless flirt?”
He moved closer, pinning her with a sultry smirk as he reached out to tuck a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. He let his fingers caress the shell of her ear then slide down along her jawline, cupping her chin.
“Maybe,” she whispered, voice husky.
“I think that’s changing.”
