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He laughed.
The…man…laughed.
She could still feel the imprint of his fingers on her ass as she marched into the bathroom and slammed the door. She could turn him in for sexual harassment.
But he could turn her in for assault with a vehicle.
The minute she looked in the mirror, she stifled a scream. God, her hair! She looked like a drowned possum. Her fine hair always tangled badly, but between the horrible crunchy pillow and hard mattress—and every single movement Tripp made—her restless night showed.
She flattened her hair with her hands, but she had to face the fact that she might have to give in and go with the Founding Father ponytail just to be presentable.
A quick shower—the water was hot at least—didn’t do much to wake her up. Nor did that awful coffee.
Clean clothes and a hairbrush boosted her spirit the tiniest bit.
She paused with her hand near the tube of lipstick in her bag. Did she dare apply it?
The memory of Tripp’s gaze locked on her mouth and how it made her stomach dip rolled through her mind.
She picked up the tube and smeared it over her pout with as much precision as she could on so little sleep.
When she walked out, his stare hit hers…then slid to her mouth.
A jolt hit her core. God, it was far too early in the day to startthisagain. She didn’t have time for battling attraction or whatever it was she felt—and she certainly didn’t want it to lead anywhere with Tripp.
He dangled the key fob in front of her face. “I’ll drive.”
She made a snatch for it, and he jerked his hand away before she could clamp her fingers around the object.
“Give it to me, Tripp.”
“Told ya—I’m driving. You got your bag, or do you want me to carry it for you?”
“I got it,” she grated through her clenched teeth.
He held up the fob again for her to take, but when she made another grab at it, he pulled his hand away.
“Dammit, Tripp.”
“I’ll give it to you outside.” He took off to the door.
“I see you lost your limp.”
He tossed a look over his shoulder. “Fast healer. I see you still aren’t holding the key fob.”
She hated him.
“I hate you,” she said as they reached the Humvee.
Did he mean for his grin to send her off the rails?
He strode around the vehicle. “You know what I went through to become a SEAL? Or the type of training it took to be part of this ops team? You can’t hurt me with your words.”
He was thriving on this.
He was also driving. Dammit.
She let out a resigned grunt and tossed her bag in the back. His landed beside hers.
