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“And what a lovely mouth it is.” He reached across the table and covered her hands with his. He raised her right hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles before returning her hand to the table. “Speaking of Omar—”
“—Do we have to?”
He gave her a look. “I’m going to talk to him about us once we’re back in town.”
Her chest tightened. “Asking his permission?”
“No. Just giving him a heads-up. I owe him that.”
“What if he’s not happy about it?” she pressed. Her heart thumped wildly against her ribcage as she waited for his response.
“If he’s as good a friend as I think he is, he’ll accept it. You make me happy, Leilah. I can’t keep pretending I don’t want to be with you. More accurately, I’m not willing to. He’ll get on board.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“He will.”
She allowed a soft smile to play on her lips. Ryan’s quiet confidence turned her knees to jelly. The thought of jelly reminded her that she was famished.
“Where’s our server?” she wondered.
As she turned her neck to search for Jude, who’d seated them and then vanished, she glimpsed a trio of men walking three abreast through the courtyard between the restaurant and the motel. Unable to form words, she dug her fingernails into Ryan’s hand and jerked her chin toward the window.
He turned and saw what she saw: three grim-faced men wearing camouflage pants, boots, and gray hooded sweatshirts. They moved in lockstep, scanning from left to right.
Her pulse thrummed in her throat. “Where are their guns?”
“They’d draw too much attention carrying those rifles. I’m guessing they’ve got concealed handguns. We have to go. Now.”
He pushed back his chair and waited while she retrieved her purse from the back of her chair. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the back of the restaurant.
“Where are you going? The door’s the other way.”
“We’ll go out through the kitchen.”
“And then?”
“We need to hit the pawnshop.”
She jogged to keep up with him as he hauled her through the dining room and into the kitchen.
“For a gun? Are you serious? We don’t have time to stand around while they run a background check on you. Those guys are herenow.” Her voice rose, her breath quickened, and her hands tingled. She was edging toward panic.
“There’s no background check for hunting knives. Or baseball bats. Or whatever. Okay? Just breathe.” He gave her a look full of concern as they brushed past a confused dishwasher and burst into the alleyway behind the building.
She filled her chest, then her lungs, and exhaled fully.Pretend you’re driving,she told herself. Panic had no place in a race car. She’d had years of practice regulating her nervous system while behind the wheel. She simply had to translate that experience to this one.You can do this. You’re Leilah freaking Khan.
By the time they slipped between the dumpster and the back of the commercial strip, her pulse had slowed, her heartbeat was regular, and her breathing was normal.
“You okay now?” he asked.
She nodded and eyed the row of identical unmarked metal doors. “Are you planning to go through the back? It’s the third one, I think.”
“I think that’s right. And yes. If the back door’s unlocked, I’m going in that way. You wait over in that stairwell, okay? I’ll be as fast as I can.” He pointed to a brick stairwell that led to the basement of the commercial center.
“Okay. Be careful.”
“Stay frosty.” He flashed a crooked grin and turned toward the doors.
