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“You’re a natural,” he said after more than thirty minutes of shooting. “But we better take it easy. You’ll be sore tomorrow.”
“I don’t mind a workout. You should know that by now,” she said as she lowered her bow.
Her gaze went straight through him. There was that flirtatious side again. He wanted to tease her that less than an hour dedicated to sex wouldn’t leave you feeling much of anything on the morning after. If they ever got together, it would take way more than an hour, and it would be a workout she wouldn’t soon forget.
“Thanks for teaching me.” Her lips were slightly parted and so kissable looking.
“Happy to,” he said as he struggled to get his body under control. He needed the mental equivalent to a cold shower. Thinking about the dangers they faced did that for him and brought him back from the fantasies that he was forming in his head about her. “I could teach you to shoot a gun, too.”
“I know how to do that.” Her statement made him raise his eyebrows. “I did a story on concealed carry and went through the class as part of my research.”
“You’re licensed to carry?” he asked.
“Sure am. Does that surprise you?”
“No,” he said after he thought about it for a minute. “I’m glad you know how to protect yourself.”
“I’ve got you around for that.” She touched his cheek, her fingers soft on his skin. He wanted to turn his face and kiss her palm. The problem was that he wouldn’t be able to stop there, and he knew it. She seemed to, as well. He could see that in her eyes. The anger between them was gone, replaced by a different kind of tension.
“We should get back,” he said, breaking the moment. It wasn’t what he wanted to do. He wanted to lay her down on the spring grass and make love to her, but that would complicate their relationship. So he resisted. Barely.
THIRTEEN
Sophie lay on her side, snuggled under the cover, feeling warm and drowsy. It was early morning, and she had the strangest sense of contentment. As pleasant as it felt, it was definitely not the norm. She was usually revved up. Her sleepy brain was trying to analyze why everything felt different that morning when a hand came to rest on her hip.
She drew in a breath, understanding coming to her. Owen was behind her—right behind her, spooning her. His warm breath was on the back of her neck, his legs tangled with hers. In between, his hard cock was pressed against her. She smiled, recalling their cock conversation during archery. She resisted rubbing against him because he seemed to still be sleeping. Sliding away from him would be the smart thing to do before her body started responding more than it already had.
Because she knew that she shouldn’t start something with him. Despite the sexual tension between them, it wouldn’t be smart. But, damn, it would be good. And it wouldn’t take much to roll over right then and kiss him. To take his cock in her hand and let whatever was going to happen just happen.
No, no, no. She slowly edged away from him, calculating how fast she could get to the bathroom door.
“Morning.” His voice was rough and sexy from behind her, and she stiffened. His hand was still on her hip.
It was a casual touch, but it felt like so much more. A prelude, if she chose to take him up on it. She had to be decisive here. Take action. Get out of the bed, pretend like there was nothing to see here. She bailed out of bed, taking half the covers with her. “I need a shower.”
At the bathroom door, she glanced back. He was half sitting up, his chest exposed, and his eyes focused on her. He was impossibly sexy, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks. She slammed the door before she could say or do anything to make the moment more awkward. Or worse? Better?
She leaned against the inside of the bathroom door. What was wrong with her? Where was the confidence and control she carried around like a shield? How was it that Owen had edged his way in and gotten to her on an emotional level? She couldn’t let that happen. There was too much at stake in the investigation. She took a quick shower, planning to be professional when she went back to the main room.
Her intentions crashed quickly when she saw him doing shirtless push-ups. God, that was hot. “Exercising inside today?” she squeaked out.
“Burning off some energy.” He got to his feet in one swift motion. She was not going to ask about what was fueling his extra energy. Was not. Her mouth was opening anyway when he continued to speak. “I just got off the phone with Ethan. There’s a problem. He heard from the landlord of his and Helen’s old apartment that a woman showed up claiming to be Helen’s sister and wanting to visit.”
“Helen doesn’t have a sister,” Sophie said.
“I know. The landlord was able to give a description. Thirties, medium height, professionally dressed, very dark shoulder length hair. She was driving a silver sports car, something moderately expensive, he thought.”
“That’s something to go on. But who is she?”
“Not sure, but Ethan and I agree she must be working for Wilson. He must have put her on Helen’s scent, probably trying to confirm whether Helen’s actually dead.” He put air quotes around the last word since Helen was very much alive. “I think we should go interview the landlord in person and see if we can get security footage from anyone in the area. Sometimes business pick up things on the street and are willing to share. We might get lucky and get a license plate.”
“Good plan. While we’re in the city, we can check on a few more GPS locations from Mason’s phone,” she said since they hadn’t hit them all yet. “We have a free day at the retreat because of the mandatory session tonight. I don’t know what it is. Luna’s been secretive about it.”
“I guess we’ll see,” he said. “I’ll be ready to go in fifteen minutes.”
They drove straight to Helen’s old apartment and spoke to the landlord, who revealed nothing beyond what Ethan had already told them. Since the street was mostly residential, they didn’t have much luck with security cameras. Some places might have doorbell ones, but it was a workday and there weren’t many residents around. They gave up when it seemed obvious that there were no leads to follow and moved onto a camera store that Mason had visited a few times.
“Hi, I’m hoping you can help me.” Sophie addressed the clerk. He looked young, probably just out of high school. He seemed nervous, too, shifting his attention from her to Owen. “I was wondering what you could tell me about this man.” She opened the photo of Mason on her phone and placed it on the counter. “I know he’s been in here.”
