"Interesting neighborhood," she murmured.
He parked, going still when she leaned in to him to look up and down the street. He nodded, speechless, because her breast was pressing into his bicep and killing his concentration as he attempted to keep an eye on their surroundings at the same time.
Usually he multitasked with no problem in his work zone. But Kylie had shot his zone straight to hell. She looked so different in that wig it was startling. Different and damn sexy. Not that she wasn't always sexy. She was, incredibly so. But it was messing with his head a little-or a lot-to see her looking like herself and yet not.
"So?" she asked. "What's next?"
Right. What was next-beyond wanting to haul her into his lap so that she could straddle him and grind them both to an earth-shattering finish? He cleared his throat. "Jayden and Jamal work here in Hunter's Point. I want to get a look at their inventory and see if we find anything resembling the workmanship of that table or bench you're supposed to authenticate."
She pushed some of the brunette strands off her face and he told himself to be careful. If the woman had enough skills to hide her identity, she could just as easily hide other things-like his dead body.
Although the truth was that though he did have to be careful around Kylie, it wasn't his life he was worried about but his damn heart, an organ he'd thought long dead. She was an irresistible dichotomy of sweet charm and heart-stopping sexy, and she threw him off guard with every look, be it a smile or a glare. In fact, he kinda liked when she gave him dirty looks, which meant he was seriously losing his shit. And he never lost his shit.
Never.
Yeah. He was royally screwed and the thing was, even knowing that, he didn't want to walk away because he enjoyed her so much. How crazy was that?
"I'm going to go try to get a look inside," he said. "Trust me, I know this area. It's not good, so you should-"
She held up a finger. "Let me stop you right there. If you're about to let out your inner caveman and say ‘stay in the truck,' I'm going to sic Vinnie on you."
Joe took in the sight of Vinnie snoring and snorting in his sleep from his perch in her lap. "Yeah, you're right. That five-pound rat is terrifying."
"I'll have you know that he's seven pounds. And fine, I'll find some other form of payback."
"Payback away," he murmured, enjoying the blush that lit up her cheeks. It suitably distracted him from the reason he had a ball of dread low in his gut-that they were, literally, parked in his past, in his old neighborhood, and it was every bit as rough and ugly as he remembered.
Although undoubtedly it was mostly his own memories making it so. Still, Hunter's Point had always been San Francisco's radioactive basement. It was dirty and dangerous, and he'd have really liked for Kylie to have stayed as far away as possible.
"I've never been here," she said quietly, as if sensing his mood change. "Have you?"
"Yeah."
He felt her turn to face him and he met her gaze. "Grew up here," he said.
He could feel the weight of her concern. But he didn't want or need it. Instead he concentrated on the night and any trouble that was most certainly lurking in it. The decommissioned naval shipyard up the street was quiet. Still. Too still.
There'd been efforts to clean up the area, including redevelopment projects two decades back. In some areas, such as the former navy shipyard waterfront property, they'd been fairly successful. In others areas, not so much. Drug and gang activity was high, as was the murder rate.
"Not exactly warm and cozy," Kylie said.
She had no idea. They were parked across and down the street from the warehouse. On the northeast corner in front of them, he'd once been confronted by a few of his friends who'd turned into gangbanger wannabes. In order for them to get into the gang they wanted, they'd been challenged to steal a car-except none of them had known how to hot-wire a car, so they'd tried to get Joe to do it.
When he'd refused, they'd stolen something of his to hold over him and force his hand.
Molly.
They'd held his sister for nearly three full days before he was able to get to her. He'd retaliated by nearly killing the guys who'd kidnapped her. A judge had then forced Joe to decide between jail and the military for his restitution.
He'd chosen the military, and though he'd hated it at the time, with dubious maturity he'd come to see it as the best thing that could've happened to him. It'd been a way out of here, a lifeline he hadn't realized he'd needed. Granted, the army hadn't been easy. In fact, they'd practically beaten discipline and temper management into him.
But there was no doubt he'd grown up. He was different now, slower to rile for one thing, and yet not so different that he couldn't remember what it'd felt like to be trapped here in Hunter's Point, thinking there was no way out.
Kylie slipped her hand in his, bringing him back to the present. Which thankfully was very different than his past. Although he was still armed and dangerous, so maybe not all that different after all.
"Do you have a specific plan of action here?" she asked quietly. "For getting a look inside the warehouse?"
He did. He always did, and had ever since that long-ago day when he'd pulled Molly out of the rat hole they'd held her in. There was a plan A, and a plan B, C, and Z too.
First, he wanted to stake the place out from right here for a little bit, get a feel for the layout and make sure they were really alone. No way was he getting Kylie into something that he wasn't prepared for. He knew she'd think he was being overprotective, and hell, given the fact that they were seeking a three-inch piece of carved wood-excuse him, a penguin-maybe he was.
But his instincts had saved his life more than a few times and they were screaming now. It felt like the threat to Kylie was escalating and he wasn't going to ignore that no matter what she thought. This whole thing had gone from a way to amuse himself to something far more serious.
And yeah, maybe his life experiences had jaded him, made him cynical. After all, he spent a lot of time knee-deep in the scum of the earth, seeing the worst humanity had to offer-everything from abusive and cheating spouses, to criminal and civil crimes, to far worse. But he could live with being cynical and jaded. He couldn't live with something happening to Kylie because he didn't take this seriously enough.
"The brothers close up their shop by five or six every night," he said. "There're windows in their warehouse. I should be able to keep to the shadows and get a good look inside without any trouble."
"How?" she asked.
"I grew up here. I know every nook and cranny like the back of my hand."
"That's good," she murmured, clearly trying to hide the horror in her voice as she looked around at the decayed buildings and dirty streets that symbolized his very ugly past. "Maybe . . . maybe it wasn't so rough back then, when you were a kid?" she asked with sweet hope.
He gazed out the windshield, trying to see the neighborhood from her point of view. "This is cleaned up. It was far rougher back then."
She squeezed his hand. Comforting him, he realized, and felt something in his chest tighten.
"Where did you live?" she asked softly.
"Right down that street." He gestured with a jerk of his chin rather than take his hand from hers. "This used to be a navy base. In and around all the gangbangers' hideouts and graffiti are old Victorian homes that once upon a time were captains' or generals' homes."
She nodded. "I love the architecture of the time," she said. "All the ornate woodworkings on the bevels and crown moldings, and the attention to detail. Would've liked to see it back then in its height of glory."
Trust her to imagine the forgotten beauty in a place like this.
"You should be proud," she said. "You came from here and made something of yourself."
His chest tightened again. Emotion, he realized, which he couldn't afford. Not now, not ever. But still, in spite of himself, he turned his hand over and entwined their fingers.
She gave him a small smile with those dark lips he wanted wrapped around his-
"So what do we do now?" she asked.
Definitely not act out the X-rated porno playing in my mind. "Watch a little bit longer and get a feel for things."
She nodded her agreement, but not ten minutes in she began to squirm.
He slid a questioning look her way, making her grimace. "It turns out that stakeouts are kind of boring," she said.
"I like boring. It means nothing has gone fubar."
Yet.
"I'm just wondering about you," she said. "You've got a lot of secrets."
"So do you."
"Me?" she asked. "I'm an open book."
He had to laugh. "If that's true, then why don't you tell me what this scavenger hunt is really about? Why does that carving mean so much to you?"