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“I’m sorry. What was that?”
She sighed heavily. “I know you heard me.”
“I think so. But if I heard correctly, you just paid me a compliment.”
“I realize you don’t have a very high opinion of me, Travis, and I’ll admit that maybe, to some extent, you have reason for that.” He snorted. Understatement. “But I’m being honest. I haven’t been living under a rock. I know what’s been going on overseas and that going into the service is dangerous. You put your life on the line every day. So…yes. I think that’s courageous.”
He’d been scared shitless when he signed on. Brave was the last thing he’d have called himself. But it was something he’d had to do. And fortunately, his interest in becoming a SEAL candidate, combined with his high ASVAB score had taken his training to a level he could never have imagined before.
“When did you get out?” she asked him.
“Finished my last mission sixteen months ago. An undercover op in Afghanistan.” He’d considered staying on for one more mission, having loved his work, loved the challenge and camaraderie that came from being part of a special ops unit, but he’d recognized that he was becoming increasingly jaded. Angry. And that maybe it was time to use those skills and experience back home. Not that this was information he was going to confide to the homecoming queen. “A friend of mine started a private security firm. Paid good money. Still making a difference, helping people out.” He merged to the right for the next exit. “Your turn. Marrying at nineteen, your first year of college? Isn’t that sort of…provincial?”
She remained silent.
“Then you not only divorce the guy four months later, but marry hubby number two a year later. A single father more than twice your age who, when he kicked the bucket, left you even more disgustingly rich than before. And then there’s husband number three…”
“You don’t know anything about me, Travis.” Her voice was tight, and he glanced over to see her hands clenched on her lap.
“Yeah. You’re probably right.”
His dismissive tone incensed her more. “Don’t think you know me. You have no idea. Yes, my first marriage was a big mistake. And the third one, even bigger. But I really loved Darcy’s father. He was the only person—” She stopped, her shoulders sinking as the fight left her. More softly, she added, “We would have been happy.”
He raised his eyebrows. “He was like, sixty. Could he even get it up?”
“Screw you, Travis.” This time she leaned forward and flipped the radio back on, and turned it up to prevent further conversation.
Okay, he had to admit, he was sinking down to her level. These were all things he’d thought about when he read the file, gloating over her string of bad luck. But rubbing it in didn’t hold as much appeal as he’d have thought.
Even after the pain and embarrassment she’d heaped on him back in high school. Humiliation that had led him to hope that, after ten years, karma had been a bitch to her, taken her down a peg. Turned her into more of a troll doll than a Barbie.
Unfortunately, watching her stroll into that coffee shop like she owned the place, her ass still tight and her legs as impossibly long and toned as ever, he’d felt cheated. It hadn’t helped when he got an up close and personal look at that face and realized that—although it had matured with time, earning her a few more lines around her mouth and a new wariness in those eyes—she was still as stunning as ever.
It hadn’t been fair. He deserved to feel a little better.
And he sure as hell wasn’t supposed to have insane urges about the she-devil. Urges like running his hands through that thick mane of hair to see if it was as soft as it looked. Or nestling his face in its softness to see if it smelled like the warm, musky scent that kept wafting toward him when she flipped her head. Or pushing inside her while she wrapped those exquisite legs around his waist while crying out his name.
Might as well commit him now.
It was close to eight when they reached the address Bryce gave them, the sun just starting to drop below the mountains. There wasn’t much activity on the street—a few Pacific Islanders stood on the corner watching them suspiciously as they passed. A few more guys sat on the corner, the small, torn bags next to them telling him they were likely homeless.
“I’m going to drive around the block first. Tell me if you see Darcy’s car.”
A few minutes later they were back in front of the building.
“It’s not here.” Meredith said. “Maybe she did go on a road trip with some friends,” she added, her tone hopeful, as they got out.
He looked up at a sign near the street. He nodded toward it. It warned no parking between seven and nine a.m. “If her car was still parked here this morning, it would have been towed.” A thought occurred to him. “You didn’t happen to have a security system in her car, like OnStar or something? They could track it if you did.”
“No. Darcy found this old Volkswagen bug. Vintage. It was a wreck when she got it, but she put a lot of her savings into getting it fixed up.” Her lips twisted into a slight smile as she remembered, softening her features. Something she definitely should do more often. Or not—hell, what was he thinking? “I wanted to buy her a new car, but she was pretty insistent. She could be stubborn when she wanted to be.”
He tried the doors to the building, but there was a thick chain holding them closed. The windows wore about eight layers of dirt and grime, offering him a limited view inside. About all he could make out was a dark, open space. He walked around the back, trying all the windows until he found one that gave, then lifted himself up and climbed through.
“You’re not leaving me out here,” Meredith’s high-pitched voice said with alarm. She started to pull herself up to follow him, and he turned to watch her progress.
She was surprisingly strong.
It only took another thirty seconds for her to appear in the opening, her skirt hiked high up on her hips. He probably shouldn’t stare as she tried to catch her breath, but…hell. She had amazing legs. He caught a glimpse of dark, lacy panties before she swung her legs down
