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She rubbed her forehead. “I feel like there’s a memory right there. I can’t quite see it clearly.” She blew out a frustrated breath.
“Don’t try to force it. It’ll come in time.”
“I hope so. I want to stop these guys and get my life back.”
“You’ll get there.”
She rose. “I think I’ll take a shower.” She grabbed some of her new clothes from the plastic bags and entered the tiny bathroom.
That’s when it hit Boone. She was right there, behind that door, undressing.
He dragged in a breath and reached for the bottle of water he’d gotten at the pizza place. He wished it was a beer.
Atlas was watching him.
“Why aren’t you sleeping, huh?” Boone made himself eat another slice of pizza as he heard the water in the shower turn on. He wondered where else Gemma Newhouse had freckles on her skin.
“Get a grip, Hendrix,” he muttered.
Just as he finished the pizza, the shower cut off.
Then, Gemma screamed.
His instincts fired, and he snatched up his Glock. He crossed the room in two strides and shoved open the bathroom door.
She was standing on a threadbare mat, skin and hair damp, wrapped in a skimpy white towel. She gasped.
He scanned the small room for the threat.
There was no one there.
“What’s wrong?”
“There was a cockroach.”
He drew in a breath. “A cockroach.”
“It was the size of a small pony, Boone.” She shifted and slipped a little on the mat. She lost her grip on one side of her towel. It slipped, baring one high, full breast, and one side of her body.
Boone couldn’t look away, and he watched her nipple bead under his gaze.
Fuck. His cock swelled.
Then Atlas butted into the room, knocking Boone forward a step. Instinctively, he gripped Gemma’s hip. The bare one. She gasped again.
Atlas barked, looking for a threat, as well. There wasn’t enough room for the three of them.
“Atlas, out,” Boone said.
The dog whirled and hit the back of Gemma’s legs. She pitched forward into Boone’s chest. He went back a step and sat down on the closed toilet seat lid.
Gemma landed on top of him, straddling him.
His dog headed out, just as Gemma lost her grip on her towel.
It slipped to the floor.
Boone found himself eye level with both her bare breasts now. Blindly, he set the Glock on the sink.
