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“We need to apprehend Rex and Bulldog in person and first, Cal. I have to interrogate Rex before we confront Slim.” Dylan wasn’t going to budge on this. It had been the original plan.
“That’s not what we’ve all agreed on as of this morning, Dylan. You two are to follow Rex and Bulldog, most likely over the border into Canada, yes. But not until we give you the go-ahead.”
Dylan tried to come up with an alternative plan, but his mind was already racing ahead to when and how they’d apprehend Slim.
Veronica’s hand was on his knee and she gave him a quick squeeze.
“We’re listening, Cal.” She gave him a reassuring smile. No matter what, why or when, he could count on Veronica having his back.
“You’ll stick out like a wild boar in an elk herd if you try to finish the mission with that truck.” Cal circled back to their lifted truck. “We’ve placed a new vehicle for you in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. I’ll drop the coordinates to you when we hang up. You’ll go there, swap the truck for the new wheels and wait it out in the park until we give you the signal that we’ve located Rex.”
“That’s all well and good, brother, but you’re asking us to cross back over the border and put ourselves farther from where we think Slim is. Teddy Roosevelt Park is in the opposite direction of where our takedown will be, Cal.” Dylan wanted to be as close to Rex’s reported location when it came in. Nearest to Slim.
“Exactly. We don’t think anyone still has the track on you two, but we can’t be certain. This will throw anyone off the chase, though, if they’re looking for a couple heading to the border.”
Dylan didn’t disagree with Cal’s conclusion. It made sense; it was a solid plan. It deviated from his original plan, but that wasn’t anyone’s fault. He had to roll with it.
Nothing about this case had proven by-the-book yet. Not to mention how unsettled his heart was.
Whoa, my heart? He was so screwed.
When the call ended with Cal, Veronica and Dylan sat in the truck cab for a full ten minutes, in silence. She’d been surprised to see Dylan appear so unsure of the new task force order, yet she sensed he trusted his brother’s knowledge base and he’d agreed to the most recent tactical plan.
Unable to handle yet another long minute of complete quiet, she decided to speak. “It’s not how we’d each planned to accomplish the mission on our own—that’s why we’re working with a task force. We have to listen to Cal, Dylan.”
“I know we do, and I am. We’re going to succeed at this, Veronica.” His gaze met hers and struck the familiar chords in her heart that played only for Dylan. Joy. Reassurance. Partnership. Trust. Heat. As in, white-hot lust.
Oh, girl, put it on the back burner. This wasn’t five years ago, and they weren’t inexperienced rookies. If only her body didn’t keep reminding her of how his lips felt on hers.
“I need a second or two to regroup, get my focus back, is all.” Dylan’s cheeks were tinged with a blush, and she peered more closely at him.
“Dylan, are you feeling okay? Are you getting a fever?”
His hot gaze was back on her and with a jolt she knew she’d misinterpreted his seeming agitation during their call with Cal. The flame shining in his gaze wasn’t from a virus, but from the same source of the relentless thrum of her attraction to him. The same origin of the pulsating desire that licked at her nerves, made her breasts strain for his touch, made her lick her lips with want, made the lust that pooled between her legs unbearable.
“I’m sick, all right, but it’s not a cold, or the flu.” He turned fully toward her as he spoke, making her stomach—already taut from the sexual tension between them—flip with anticipation.
She could open the passenger door, get out of the truck, splash cold lake water on her face. But she sat rock-still, unable to listen to reason, unable to do anything but watch Dylan’s mouth move as he spoke.
“The thing is, Veronica, I’m sick and tired of fighting myself. Of fighting my feelings. Of fighting us—this pull between us that has not only never died, but inexplicably to me, is stronger than I ever remember.”
Gooseflesh rose on her forearms and her nipples hardened under the too-big thermal shirt he’d purchased for her. Was there anything sexier than a rugged man like Dylan—a true-blue law enforcement hero—using the vocabulary of an intellectual?
“I feel it, too, you know.” She breathed out the words as though they were a vow, and not an admission that she was hella horny for him, too.
When he leaned in she met him halfway, closing her eyes as she privately reasoned with the most unreasonable part of herself that physical connection with her colleague was okay. It was a healthy way to blow off steam after their narrow escape last night and before their upcoming ordeal.
Except she’d never blown off steam with any other partner through sex, nor would she. Veronica knew without doubt that this was all about Dylan, about how she’d waited five long years for her fantasies to become reality.
She reached for his face, a hand on either side, his whisker-roughened skin arcing sparks across her palms. His fingers were through her hair, his groan low and primal as he cupped the base of her skull. When he placed his lips on hers, a searing heat coursed through her and the sane part of her mind knew this wasn’t her most intelligent move. But it was the only action possible while ecstasy at his kisses, their carnal connection, moved her to complete this mission.
“Dylan.” Her word let her emotional drawbridge down, and she kissed him as though they were the only two people left on the planet.
There was none of the previous foreplay, no teasing kisses. Lips ground, teeth clicked, tongues dove deep as they kissed. She dropped her hands, moved to unzip her down jacket, but Dylan was already there, grabbing both of her hands.
“Get in the back,” he gasped. “Hurry.”
She watched him belly-crawl over the center console, through to the flattened back to rows that allowed for the queen-size air mattress they’d hot bunked on, trading places during their night watches. She quickly stripped in the front passenger seat, several times hitting an elbow or knee on the dashboard or side door in her efforts. Her mind dimly registered that she was going to be bruised, but Veronica was past caring about anything but being with Dylan.
