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“God, that sound was annoying,” I grumble, looking up at my neighbors emerging from their doors and craning their necks down the street.
“Funny—I think the same thing every time you open your mouth.”
“You drag me out here just to piss me off?”
The engine shifts into gear, and with a full turn of the steering wheel, we’re driving the opposite way down Main Street.
“No,” he says breezily. “According to my lawyers, as your boss I’ve got a duty of care to make sure you’re not displaying symptoms of shock or trauma.”
“Horseshit.”
“It’s true.”
“And those symptoms are?”
The corner of his lips tilt. “Irritability. Loss of appetite.”
“I’m irritated, that’s for sure.”
He reaches onto the seat behind him. Dumps a fast-food bag onto my lap. “And your appetite?”
I stare down at the bag for a few seconds, my fists clenched by my sides. When I finally peel it open and see my regular order from the diner, something warm and unwanted pools in the pit of my stomach.
He remembered.
I clear my throat, growing hot. “Are you really checking for symptoms, or is this just an excuse to hang out with me?”
“It’s me trying to avoid a lawsuit, sweetheart.”
My gaze finds him. He’s staring straight ahead, distracted. For a moment, I’m not so certain that he’s lying.
“Well, I’d be open to settling out of court for cash compensation.”
His laugh blooms in my chest, and as he glances down at the watch on my wrist, something soft passes over his features. “I bet you would.”
We drive in restless silence until we reach the top of the cliff. Raphael parks up in the shadows of the old church and cranks the heater up. My nerves only tighten when four sets of headlights sweep through the rear window.
“We’re being followed,” I choke out, twisting to peer between the headrests at the cars behind us.
A hot hand slides over my bare thighs, and all coherent thoughts dissolve. Christ, why didn’t I have the good sense to put on some clothes before I went flying out of the apartment? “Relax, it’s just my men.”
His grip is unwavering. Turning back around, I focus on what’s happening on the other side of the windshield. Tree branches shivering in the wind. Thin clouds sliding in front of the moon. Anything to distract myself from the pinky finger sitting too close to the inside seam of my shorts.
“They weren’t following you the last time you dragged me into the car.”
Silence swells between us, then Raphael’s fingers graze over the curve of my leg and come to rest in the center console. When he speaks, his voice is toneless. Almost harsh. “Eat your food, Penelope.”
My head is spinning too fast to do anything but listen. Under intense scrutiny, I unwrap the burger and take a bite. The car fills with the sound of my chewing and the nervous energy buzzing in my ears. As I go to take another bite, a large hand clamps around my wrist and stops me.
My eyes lift up to Raphael’s. Without breaking my gaze, he lowers his head and takes a large, slow bite of my burger. Christ. My toes curl in my sneakers and my blood burns a few degrees hotter.
A little hiss of air escapes my lips, along with a question I didn’t know I needed the answer to.
“What did you wager?”
He licks salt off his bottom lip, eyes darkening with something that tugs on my nerves. “Something I didn’t want to give up.”
My breathing shallows as he lifts my milkshake from the center console cup holder. He takes a sip, then his arm grazes mine as he tilts the drink to me. Swallowing hard, I edge closer, closing the gap between us, and put my lips where his just were.
