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“You know how to change a tire?”
She rolled her eyes. “What, you think it’s too much for a billionaire heiress?”
“I think you are nothing like I expected and full of surprises.”
She felt a flush fill her cheeks. “Thank you. And it’s another skill my dad’s security team instilled in me.” She got the jack in place.
That’s when she noticed the bullet holes peppering the tailgate of his truck. Her throat tightened. The explosive orgasm and being with Boone had made her forget for a minute.
“Hey.” He stroked a hand down her arm. “Those can be fixed.”
She nodded, but she knew bullet holes in a person were a completely different thing. Boone was becoming important to her, and the idea of him getting shot protecting her was something her brain refused to contemplate.
She suspected he’d already been shot at enough in his life.
Soon Boone was maneuvering the spare tire into position. She had to admit that there was something sexy about watching a man change a tire.
After the tire was on, Boone dropped to the ground and slid under the truck.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking for any trackers.”
She frowned at his jean-clad legs. “They can’t have a tracker on this truck.”
He grunted and slid out. He circled the truck, crouching down to check under the wheel well. “I’m worried about how the hell they tracked us so quickly.”
“Maybe they got lucky? Got a hit on facial rec somewhere.”
“Maybe.”
Once he was satisfied there were no trackers, they got back on the road. Boone stuck to the smaller roads, avoiding the highway.
After an hour, they stopped at a small gas station. Gemma hung out with Atlas, while Boone spoke with Vander on a pay phone. But she kept sneaking glances at him.
What he’d done to her on his truck…? She bit her bottom lip and pressed her thighs together. Even with all the danger around them, even with people hunting them, she wanted him to do it again.
She wanted Boone’s hands on her. She wanted to explore that tough, hard body of his.
She watched him stride back to the truck and forced her little fantasies under control. His face was blank, his jaw tight.
“Any news?”
“Yes. Your father wants to talk with you.”
Her pulse jumped, and she hurried over to the pay phone. She lifted the receiver. “Hello?”
“Gem? God, are you all right?”
Her father’s worried voice made her chest tighten. “I’m okay, Dad.”
“Your mother and I have been so worried.”
Through the line, she heard her mother sob. “It’s been pretty scary, but I’m alive. I’m not hurt. Are you two all right?”
“We’re fine, honey. We’re back in LA.”
She lifted her gaze. “I got very lucky when Boone found me.”
