Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
He was real sure of himself. But then I’d walked over to him while others were boarding the bus. Seemed he had every right to be sure of himself.
“Yes, I guess I am.”
He waved a hand for me to go first, and I began walking in the direction of his vehicle.
I waited for him to speak, but he remained silent until we reached the passenger door and he opened it.
“Hungry?” he asked then took the handle of my carry- on. “I’ll take this.”
Yes, I was.
“Tacos sound good?”
Very good. I had been planning on eating a sandwich with whatever I had in the fridge that wasn’t expired.
He held out his hand for me to take as I stepped up inside the Escalade.
“Yes,” I replied hesitantly.
Was he taking me to dinner?
“Good, because I am fucking craving some,” he replied.
I watched him through the rearview mirror as he took my suitcase to the back of the vehicle and loaded it. Once the rear latch closed and he headed toward his door, I dropped my eyes, studying my hands, as I got my thoughts together while he climbed inside. Okay, so he was here to pick me up and take me to eat. Was this because he was still worried for my safety? If it was this serious, maybe I should go to the police station and talk to them. It wasn’t like Hale Carver was going to be able to follow me around everywhere I went. He had to have some job or something. He didn’t live in DC.
“I, uh…is there a reason I should be alarmed? I mean, did something happen with Pooky while I was gone?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. You’re safe. I made sure of it.”
There was some relief there.
“But you came to get me.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Yeah, to let you know that you can rest easy. Although you should always be alert. DC isn’t a safe place, and you…” He glanced at me and did a quick once-over. “You’re a good-looking woman.”
Warmth rushed over me from that one little comment.
“I am—I mean, I always look around. I don’t get distracted when I’m out by myself.” Which was most of the time. Unless I was at the center.
“Good. So many women aren’t. They are locked in on their phones, not paying attention. It makes them walking targets.”
I agreed. I watched enough crime television to know better.
“It’s nice of you to take me to get dinner, but you don’t have to do that. Thanks for the ride though,” I told him, not wanting him to feel as if he had to take me to get something to eat.
He cut his eyes at me. “You said you were hungry, and I want tacos.”
Oh, well…
“Yes, okay. I just…I didn’t want you to feel as if you had to include me in your going to get tacos.”
He chuckled a dark, melodious sound, and I shivered. “Darlin’, a man doesn’t do shit he doesn’t want to do. You should have figured that out by now.”
In the thirty-four years I’d spent on earth, I had found most people didn’t do what they didn’t want to do.
“All right, then tacos it is.”
“The place also has good margaritas—at least, my daughter likes them. Not my thing.”
“That sounds perfect,” I told him.
Maybe a drink would make me feel less nervous and awkward.
Ten
Hale
Tacos? Seriously? What the fuck was I doing? She was safe.
I had made up a reason to see her before I left. It wasn’t like I was gonna fuck her, although I wanted to. I didn’t need an attachment, and she’d likely require more than tacos and smooth talking to let me sink my dick into her. Too much work.
Yet when I’d seen her walk out of the airport, talking to another man, I’d…I’d not liked it. And now we were going to eat tacos.
I needed to get my ass back in Madison. I was almost positive we had the man using Vilmer as his puppet. I’d gotten a lead the very next day after Opal bugged Vilmer’s briefcase. Linc had found the connection and handed the information over to Blaise. The man we were looking for was located in Florida, and it seemed like he was after the entire Southern Mafia. Not just the Mississippi branch. His reasons we weren’t sure of yet, but his days were numbered. We just needed a name. A real name. Vilmer had called him a bogus one that seemed to be some kind of code.
The cell in my pocket began to ring, and I eased it out, already annoyed at whoever it was, reminding me I had other things to be doing. With a quick glance, I saw Linc’s name and knew I couldn’t talk to him with Bay in the vehicle. He was going to have to wait. Silencing it, I shoved it back into my pocket and headed out onto the interstate.