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She held up both hands. “Kidding. Jeesh. I’m not stupid.”
Dove walked over to her sister and put her arms around her. “I’m sorry I’ve been snapping at you so much, Rain. I’ve been so stressed out… And I really want my closet back.”
Rain laughed and hugged her back. “I don’t want to live in there or in that tiny sewing room anymore either!”
Lark checked her phone. “I just got a text from Clay asking if we’re ready. Okay, girls, time to get dressed in our matching outfits and get this girl group on the road.”
They scrambled into their clothes while Brighton packed away all her tools and makeup. Dove barely had the jacket on over her fitted T-shirt when a knock sounded at the door.
“Can I come in?” Quaide’s voice sent vibrations through Dove and arrowed toward her core.
With a glance around to check that they were all dressed, she called out for him to enter.
As soon as he did, his gaze fell on her. She watched him closely for any negative reaction but his chest heaved and his eyes hooded. “You look really sexy.”
She touched her hair. “Yeah?”
“Ohhh, yeah. I’d like to—”
Rain broke in, clearing her throat. “We’re here! All here. We can hear you.”
Dove shook herself out of the moment, forcing herself to break eye contact with the hot man undressing her with his eyes. “What do you think? Do we pass for the same woman?”
He looked at the other women. “If I didn’t know what I was looking at, I’d believe you’re one and the same.” His stare locked on her once more. The depths burned with a barely banked fire that told her he would pickherout of a football stadium full of lookalikes.
A shiver of emotion passed through her—passion, tenderness and desire. She loved this man, and as soon as she got him alone, she would tell him. If Rain’s situation had taught her anything, it was that life was short and could change in a blink.
He stepped up to her. Heedless of who was watching, he pressed his palm into her lower back and tugged her against him. “I don’t know how I’m going to live through more days of separation from you, baby.”
Her lips hovered close to his. She wanted to kiss him but couldn’t mess up her lipstick. Searching his dark eyes, she whispered, “Don’t give up on me, Quaide. If it’s six more weeks or six months, wearegoing to make this work.”
ChapterThirteen
Quaide skimmed the list of hitmen and then started at the top again. “Jennings, you paid our friend Monk a visit last night?”
Monk had a long reach as a paid killer and was known from Colorado to California. One source claimed that he declined to do any jobs on the East Coast because he wasn’t as familiar with the territory.
Jennings rubbed a finger between his brows as if his head ached. “Yeah, that was a trip and a half. I found him in a whore house.”
“That explains the claw marks I saw on your back.” Julius’s comment had Clay chuckling.
Quaide grunted. “Tell me you got what you needed, and I don’t mean your sex life.”
“Let’s just say that Monk has an alibi. He was not in the area when Dom was killed or when Dove’s vehicle blew up.”
He nodded. “Enough said.”
Clay turned his attention to Julius. “Do you have a status on the guy you’ve been tracking down?”
“Still trying to run him to earth. But you know these guys know where to hide. I’ll keep flipping over rocks until I find him. And the hit-woman on that list? She’s been spotted in Vegas. I guess she’s got a problem with booze and drugs. As soon as she gets paid for a job, she takes off on a bender until the money runs out.”
“Classy broad,” Quaide drawled.
Clay took over the meeting. “WEST Protection has a guy on the road right now. He’ll be meeting us in…” He glanced at his watch. “Five hours. Are the women running on time?”
Quaide straightened in his seat, mostly to combat how tight his jeans got at the thought of Dove like he’d last seen her. It had taken all his self-control not to grab her and toss her on the bed. Before the ladies even exited the room, he could have been buried between her thighs, pulling moans out of her.
“They’re wrapping up,” he told the team.
