EVIE APOLOGIZED TO HIM, and she liked having his hands on her soft, sweet body. Blue was having trouble getting past those two little facts.
He gave himself a mental slap. First, she apologized for being mean. Not for what she’d said. Because she thought it was true. Thought he liked screwing anything in a skirt. Or breathing.
Can you blame her? You’ve been acting like Dr. Happy with a life-and-death vitamin Dick injection to impart.
True. Deep down, he knew he deserved her rancor. He’d done horrible things to his women. Things he could have said no to.
And so what that she’d enjoyed his hands on her. He wasn’t going to do anything about it.
He lived his life by one simple rule: Never mess around unless it’s job related.
After his breakup with Noelle, he’d added a second: Always let the girlfriend know there will be others.
He’d kept those rules. Until Evie.
Not that they’d done anything. But the intent was there, and that was just as bad. He was just as guilty.
Michael would kill him.
If you find him.
He would. Soon.
Blue waited in the living room as Evie changed out of her purple scrubs. Did she have any idea how adorable she looked in them? Probably not. The girl seemed utterly unconcerned about her appearance. But then, she didn’t need to be. She was a natural beauty.
Seriously. How had he ever gotten away with telling himself she wasn’t pretty?
Five minutes later she stood in front of him, this time wearing a shirt that read “Dear Math, I’m Not Your Therapist. Solve Your Own Problems.” A pair of tight, hip-hugging jeans encased her lower half. Old tennis shoes covered her feet. Her hair was now anchored in a high ponytail, her face scrubbed clean of makeup. She looked young and fresh—still so freaking gorgeous his chest hurt.
Jaw clenched, he forced himself to look away from her. “I put my stuff in one of your guest rooms.” The one closest to her room, but whatever. Details weren’t important right now. “Since I’m supposedly dead, I can’t stay at my place. I need to stay here.”
“That’s fine.” No change in her demeanor. “You ready to go?”
He nodded, taken aback by the ease of her acceptance. “We have to use one of your cars.” He had a few vehicles the public hadn’t seen, but for what they were about to do, they needed hers. No one would think it strange for Michael Black’s daughter and her grungy friend to dig through the rubble of his home.
She offered no protest as Blue hustled her into the garage. “I know you’re a sports car junkie, but I think we should go with the sedan,” she said.
“Sure.” The sedan had two major wins: it would blend in with all the other cars on the highway, and the windows were smoked glass. With Evie, he never knew what he would do or how he would react to something. Privacy was best.
She let him drive, but as he eased into the driveway she barked an insistent “Stop!”
He did, palming a weapon, and she hopped out. A little boy playing in the front yard of her neighbor’s house spotted her and bounded over.
The sun was a bright little bastard, reaching out with fiery fingers to stroke over Evie, giving her pale skin the same pearlescent glow that had struck him dumb at their first meeting.
You’re staring at her. Don’t be that guy. Look away!
“Dr. Evie!”
“Hey, Drew,” she said, giving him a hug. “Did you handle that wee problem we discussed?”
Blue returned his weapon to the sheath at his waist.
“I sure did. I waited for you earlier but Momma told me I had to come in and eat and then I cleaned my plate so fast she said her head was spinning and then I rushed back out ’cause I wanted to tell you I popped Bobby so good. I think I broke his nose. There was blood.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you!”
Condoning schoolyard violence? Interesting. And kind of hot.
You think everything about her is hot.
Not everything. When that viper’s tongue called him a whore, he wanted to cut it out.
Drew’s gaze slid past her open door, catching on Blue, and widened.
Blue tensed. Had he just been made by a prepubescent?
“Are you gonna kill me?” the kid asked.
Kid definitely didn’t know who he was. There would be fawning.
Wait. He looked that scary?
Grinning, Evie said, “Nah. You’ve got nothing to worry about, squirt. Mr. Brothario is a lover, not a fighter.”
Blue glared at her.
Drew flipped him off before rushing inside his house, probably to hide.
“Aw, how sweet,” Evie said, settling in her seat. “I think he was trying to warn you against unleashing your dreadful wrath on sweet, innocent me.”
“If the poor kid thinks you’re sweet, I have to fear his home life.”
“Ha-ha. You are hilarious.”
“Thank you.”
Like Drew, she flipped him off.
Grinning, Blue programmed the car to head to Michael’s, sat back, and tried to relax as the sensors did the driving for him. Problem was, Evie’s honey-almond scent saturated this vehicle as well. His shaft—which hadn’t shrunk since the counter incident—throbbed, and the hum of his power cranked up the volume, screaming for release.
Not here, not now.
But if he wasn’t careful he would levitate the vehicle and everything around it.
He needed a distraction. “Encouraging jailhouse justice on the preschool playground, sugar muffin?”
She glared at him, and it lightened his mood. “Encouraging the end of a bully’s reign of terror.”
Ah. “I approve.”
Smirking at him, she said, “You do realize you just set yourself up for a horrible insult, right?”
He leaned against the door and faced her. She didn’t wilt under the intensity of his stare, and didn’t look away. She met him head-on, completely unfazed. He had to admire her fortitude.
Had to? Hell, he already did. He’d never met a woman like her. All bark and bite.
“Let’s call a truce,” he said. The moment the words registered, he realized he liked them. He and Evie had never been on sociable terms, and he was curious to know what that would be like.
“I thought we already had.” She rubbed at the goose bumps on her arms. Cold? “I mean, we haven’t killed each other.”
Good point. He tried again. As he turned down the air with a single swipe of his power, he said, “Let’s be friends.” He’d never had a female friend before, had never thought he’d want one; but this one had saved his life, and no matter how he felt about her, he kinda sorta owed her. “After all, you’re the only person I can trust right now, and you’re determined to work with me, so we’re going to be spending a lot of time together.”
Her color was high, just the way he liked it, and her dark eyes were luminous as they searched his features. Her lips were so soft, so red, and already parted; he experienced a sudden urge to lean into her, to breathe her in and taste her, and what the hell was he doing? Stop.
“We’re not good for each other,” she said.
“Because we let our own issues get in the way. We all have baggage, princess. Let’s ditch ours and move forward.”
“What would this friendship entail?” she asked.
“For starters, we need to always tell each other the truth.”
“I already do that. Are you saying you don’t?”
God save me. “Also, you’ll need to guard my back rather than stab it.”
She took no offense, surprising him. Then she nodded, surprising him even more. “I could give that last one a try, I suppose. I’m not making any promises, though,” she rushed to add.
He rolled his eyes. “Just do your best.”
A pause as she fiddled with the strap of her purse. “So, do you really think we’re going to find anything at Michael’s? I’m sure the agency has already sent people to search through the rubble.”
“They aren’t me,” he said simply.
“And you’re the best?”
“Indisputably.”
Now she was the one to roll her eyes. “I seem to remember a certain agent telling me arrogance would get people killed.”
The moment the words left her mouth, her amusement faded. Her expression fell and her shoulders hunched in. Great waves of regret and sadness rolled off her, slamming into him.
What the hell?
He thought back to their first meeting and how much he’d wanted her even then. How shaken he’d been by her attitude. How, when the smoke of his injured pride had cleared, he’d been impressed by her. She’d taken a three-man mission and simplified it down to the bones, all on her own.
“I was wrong,” he admitted. “Your arrogance was deserved.”
“No. No, it wasn’t.”
Something about her tone . . .
He frowned. He couldn’t think of a single mission she’d botched. “Why did you leave the agency?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Evie—”
“I mean it, Blue. Leave this alone.”
He wanted to push. Her regret and sadness were intensifying. But she was the type to push back, and as he’d proven, he didn’t always come out ahead with her.
Challenges more than sucked.
“Suspicious behavior detected,” a computerized voice suddenly announced.
He was amazed only for a moment. “Your security system?” he asked.
“Yes.” Evie twisted to peer out the back window. “Modified to record and decipher the habits of nearby drivers.”
Extraordinary. And seriously hot.
On alert, he scanned the mirrors and found the culprit. Three cars back was a dark sedan with windows as smoky as theirs. Evie punched a few buttons and a small screen appeared on the console in front of Blue.
“We’re definitely being followed,” she said.
With another punch of the buttons, the camera that was anchored to the back of the car honed in on the sedan. An image appeared on the console screen.
“Can you give me the make and model of the car?” he asked.
Evie was not the one to answer. The computerized voice gave him the details he wanted, adding, “The vehicle has been modified to allow for manual steering. There are automatic assault rifles anchored to both the left and right side.”
Gotta get me one of these. “Can you see past the window tint and tell me how many bodies are inside?”
“Checking . . .” the computer replied. Several tense seconds ticked past. “Body heat indicators suggest four adult males.”
He liked those odds.