Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
“Oh.” She squeezes my hand. “Good. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble.”
Warmth seems to puddle in my chest. She’s worried for me. Has anyone ever worried about me before? I can’t recall. I’ve had plenty of coworkers over the years, and I can always count on Squirrel to get me whatever intel I need while I’m out in the field, but I’ve never let anyone close to me. I’ve never felt the least bit inclined to make friends. But May? She’s different. I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something between us, something that seems far older than the few hours we’ve known each other.
“You don’t need to worry about that.” I lean over and wake up the ancient desktop on the table beneath the monitor. “I have plenty of ways to avoid trouble if it ever comes.”
“All your secret spy connections?”
I nod. My connections and cash. Cash actually goes a lot further than connections a lot of times, but there’s no need for me to spoil the illusion for her.
“All right, let’s roll it back to the day when the cat disappeared.” I sit in the creaky office chair and palm the mouse.
She leans forward, her scent washing over me. Warm and sweet, like vanilla and honey mixed. It reminds me of the way she tasted.
“Um, I think you went too far,” she says.
“Shit.” I got lost in my thoughts. I quickly run the video back to the proper date and slow it down. “It should be right around here.” The camera isn’t the best, and it’s angled to where it only catches a piece of the road. This may not be the lead I was hoping for.
We run through it slowly, eighteen-wheelers and passenger vehicles passing by at intervals. The road out here isn’t terribly busy, especially not at rush hour.
“That one?” She points to a red Mercedes speeding past.
“Too flashy. Whoever stole that cat doesn’t want to be noticed.”
“Right. Smart.” She chews her bottom lip. “Okay, so nothing fancy.”
A few more cars roll past, and one pulls in to fill up. A man steps out, his eyes obscured by a baseball hat.
“What about that one?” She points. “He has a mustache. Everyone knows bad guys have mustaches.”
“No, look.” I take her hand and guide her pointer finger to the back seat, where you can barely make out a pair of kicking feet in booties.
“A baby. I guess you wouldn’t bring a baby to a kidnap job?”
“Not usually, no.” Another few cars pass by, and the time has gone too far. “We missed it somehow. Let’s look again. This time, focus on things that seem particularly ordinary. No speeding. No loud cars. We have to look for someone hiding in plain sight.”
“Got it.” She leans closer, the side of her breast pressing against my shoulder.
Fuck, my mind goes back to that place where it’s completely disconnected, where my only thoughts are about this strange, beautiful woman who seems to have come from nowhere.
“Here.” I take her waist and pull her into my lap. “You can see better,” I say, my voice gone gravelly.
“Thanks.” She wriggles in my lap, her round ass teasing against my hardening cock.
Holy shit. Bad idea. Bad fucking idea. But damn if she doesn’t feel amazing. I take a deep breath to try and calm my racing heart, but all that does is flood my senses with her.
“Um, Carson?” She’s looking over her shoulder at me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m–” I have to clear my throat to get it out of the gravel pit. “I’m good. Let’s look again.” I play the feed and do my level best not to grab her hips and rock her against my cock. I need to pay attention. This is my job, for crying out loud. Be a goddamn professional! I can yell at myself all I want, but I’m hanging on by a thread, and May is right there at it with a pair of scissors. I can’t keep–
“A laundry truck?” She cocks her head to the side.
I hit the button on the mouse, freezing the image, and force myself to actually look at the screen instead of studying her soft hair and the curve of her neck. What would she do if I kissed her there? If I just pressed my lips to the sensitive skin between her shoulder and her throat and sucked?
“The people who live out here wouldn’t hire out their laundry, would they? I mean, they have a whole staff. Mrs. Farrol has a bunch of full-time maids. There’s no way she’d be down with them sending out their work to somewhere else. Would she?”
“Hmm.” Focus, asshole. I study the truck, only half of it in the frame at any given time thanks to the shitty angle of the camera.
“‘Hmm’? Or, I mean, I could be wrong.” Her voice is softer, unsure. “I mean, I don’t know what people with means do.”