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“Mmm,” I mumble, remembering that day she came to the salon excited about starting fresh.
“You don’t agree?”
“I absolutely support your decision, but a part of me can’t help but sympathize.”
“Baby, this house may be my parents’, but us guys take care of everything. We negotiated a reasonable rent, but all the rest is split. Cable, electricity, security system, lawn care—all of it comes out of our pockets. Her freeloading ass has had ample time to lick her personal wounds and pad her bank account. It’s time.”
“When you put it that way, it’s one hundred percent logical.”
“I’m a logical man.” The storm clears from his features and is replaced with a smugness I’ve learned well. “Logical enough to know when I get back, we’re reevaluating your living situation.”
There’s the cocky man I’ve been missing. “Still not convinced.” I give my best blasé impression.
He doesn’t buy it, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. His cock stiffens, swelling inside me. “Then it’s time to show you the benefits of showering while attached to me.”
“You’ll do all the work?”
His eyes twinkle as his hand swats my ass. “Oh yeah, I’ll do all the work.”
I really need to try to hold out longer.
This game always works out to my advantage.
21
FORD
“Hi, you’ve reached Rowan. Please leave a message.”
I click off before the beep and fight the urge to crush my phone. Where the hell is she? The closing on her house ended hours ago. Four calls, each going directly to voicemail.
No replies to my text messages.
“Something is fucking wrong.” I rub my chest where the constant ache settled in an hour ago.
“Like you acting manic?”
I slice my eyes to Talon, wanting to slap the superior look off his face. “Can you drive any faster?”
“Going almost ninety.”
I blow out a breath, casting my gaze out the window and onto the endless road ahead. It’s been nine days since we left Nashville. What was supposed to be a simple trip got extended and took us all over the state. Our nights were spent surveilling and days catching up on sleep and scouring through information the team sent over.
We identified who we believe is the leak earlier in the week. An analyst working with the ATF. But he’s nowhere near the source of the problem. He’s dropping crumbs through cyber channels, but we do not know who’s receiving the information.
What we know is a shipment of guns will travel through Nashville this Friday, and Robbie’s preparing the interference.
“We’ll be there soon, brother.” He breaks into my thoughts.
My phone rings and the name on the screen sets my nerves on overdrive. “Where is she?”
“On the sofa, fast asleep,” Cruz answers. “We found her when we got home. Her phone is on silent.”
The small sense of relief is short-lived at the catch in his voice. “Talk to me.”
“Not much to say. Our calls went unanswered, as well as a dozen others.”
“And?”
