He left the room and found her waiting in the kitchen. She appraised him with a look that swept over him like a flame. Her lips pouted and her nostrils gave a tiny flutter. She radiated lust like one of those old boilermaker heaters. The lady obviously liked the results of her own handiwork. As long as it yielded this reaction, she could dress him anytime.
She didn’t need to know that though.
He scooped up his keys and led the way to the door, and to his car parked at the side of the road. Even opened the car door for her like a gentleman, though all he got back for his trouble was exactly what he’d expected—an exasperated look that said I-can-open-my-own-damn-door. Her reactions only made pushing her buttons more fun. They fastened their seatbelts and Connor started the engine, looking in his side mirror for oncoming traffic. He pulled out then glanced in the rear-view mirror. A car pulled out from the curb with timing that sent a prickle right into his spine.
Connor glanced at Charlize. “So this is your aunt’s birthday right?”
“Yeah, my aunt Bess, Alicia’s mom.”
He looked in the mirror and changed lanes, asked Charlize more questions, listened just enough to hold the conversation. The urge to speed up twitched through his system but if he wanted to see if the feeling he’d gotten when that car back there had pulled out was more than his suspicious nature, he’d have to stay in control. He stuck to the limit, went a little slower even. The car moved with them, took the same turns, stayed a few car lengths’ behind. Not too far but far enough that a less-observant person probably wouldn’t notice them back there at all.
Connor hit the turn signal at the last minute and swung into a gas station.
“What are you doing, you have a full tank?”
He sent her a smile meant to reassure her. “Just checking out the tires, one feels a little soft.”
The air pump sat at the back of the service station but he got out and made a show of pressing his foot to the Challenger’s tires. Walked wide around the car, taking everything in using his peripheral vision.
No silver Volvo.
Connor got back behind the wheel then drove back into the street. Had he imagined it? Was he that goddamn jumpy when it came to Charlize’s safety? He put his palm on her knee and rubbed. Jumpy yeah, but he had something precious to be concerned over. His gut unclenched but a tension still rode up the back of his neck. They might be getting cozy and all, but he had a job to do. Still, the job wasn’t the only thing making him desperate to protect her. Had it ever been? The image of her sitting on the hospital bed flashed through his mind.
Never happening again…
He’d never for a minute—not even when he’d lost himself inside her—forgotten that fucker was still out there. And he’d be a paranoid lunatic until that changed.
“Is everything all right?”
He stared at the road and continued following the GPS directions. “Yeah why?”
“Because you’re crushing my leg…”
Connor glanced at her. He gripped her just below the knee as if holding on for dear life. He released her and rubbed the spot briskly. “Must be nervous about meeting your entire family.”
“Because we’re lying?”
He put both hands on the wheel. “Lying? You mean by telling them I’m your man?” He twisted his fingers around the wheel. A bitter tang coated his tongue.
“By not telling them why you’re really with me—why you need to be. But I guess it’s all tied up together.”
He looked at her. She rubbed her palm over one bare arm and gazed back at him, an apology in her expression.
“I understand you why want to keep what happened private. It’s your choice—however you want to handle things.”
They pulled into a tree-lined, residential street with pretty, old houses. The GPS signaled they’d almost reached their destination. He checked the mirror and slowed. A flash of silver caught his eye.
Goddammit—he’d let himself be distracted. Exactly why he never got personally involved with his clients. But then he’d gone into this job already involved.
The GPS beeped and Charlize pointed to a house. The silver car pulled into a street just behind them. His pulse raced—adrenaline pumped through his blood. He’d drop Charlize off, make an excuse and then he was on it like his fist was about to be on some asshole’s throat.
Chapter Thirteen
Connor stood in the center of the park, resting his hands on his knees and sucking in deep breaths. Fucker had gotten away. The Volvo hadn’t been able to outrun him on the road so had veered into a park full of kids, forcing him to take to foot to warn the playing children.