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Hot Protector(20)

By:Lynn Raye Harris


Hawk snorted. “Oh hell yeah. But this is personal, just like it was for me when Eli was kidnapped. And we worked that out, right? Y’all had my back, and we got the sonofabitch who took my son and tried to hurt Gina. I’ll have your back on this one—and so will everyone else. I’ll let them know what we’ve got going, so don’t sweat it.”

Chase’s chest grew tight. Man, he loved his job. Loved his teammates. They were a brotherhood—and yeah, he included his female teammates in that designation—who stood together through everything. Until he’d joined HOT, his mother was the only family he had. But now his family was big and bad and willing to step up and fight for one of their own even though they didn’t share a drop of blood between them.

“Anything you can get on Androv would be good too,” he added as he stepped out of the Tahoe and shut the door.

“I’m on it, brother. I’ll be back as soon as I can, and we’ll get this show on the road.”

Chase nodded and reached for the handle to the backseat. He opened the door, his gaze sliding over Sophie’s form. She was slumped to one side, her seat belt cutting right between her breasts and showcasing their luscious fullness. She’d taken her jacket off and laid it on the seat. Her arms were bare and the tank top she wore clung to every curve.

He reached out and touched her shoulder and she jerked. He jerked too because, whoa, that was some charge that lanced through him. Probably static electricity, though he hadn’t actually heard a pop. Not to mention the air was wet.

Chase frowned. “Sophie,” he said, not touching her this time.

She stirred, moaning a little as she did so. The sound went right to his groin and twisted his nuts with need. Stop. Off-limits.

“Sophie,” he said again, rougher this time. “We’re here.”

She pushed herself up and shoved a mass of silky hair from her face. Her gaze fastened on him, and she fumbled for the seat belt. “Great. Awesome.”

She got it undone and slid from the Tahoe, stumbling as she landed on the concrete pad of the carport. Chase caught her and steadied her. But not before those glorious breasts mashed up against his chest. He sucked in air, set her away from him, grabbed her jacket from the seat and his bag from the floor. Then he shut the door and herded her toward the steps leading up to the house.

“Get some rest,” Hawk called from the window he’d rolled down. “I’ll text in the morning before I come out.”

“Copy,” Chase said as he inserted the key into the lock. Hawk waited while he got the door open and punched in the code for the alarm. He turned and gave Hawk a thumbs-up, and the man powered up the window and backed slowly down the driveway.

“Come on,” he told Sophie.

She stepped inside and he closed the door behind her, securing it with a dead bolt and resetting the alarm. When he turned, she’d walked into the kitchen and stood there looking at the flowery wallpaper and worn cabinetry.

“Not up to your standards, princess?” He didn’t know why he said that, except she looked so out of place there, so shocked at the interior, and it angered him. Because he’d grown up in a house not much different from this one while she’d lived in a Hollywood house with an infinity pool overlooking the LA skyline.

She turned at the sound of his voice, her eyes wide as she wrapped her arms around her body and chafed her upper arms.

“What?” She sounded a bit distracted, and he felt a pinprick of annoyance.

He jerked his chin at the garish wallpaper. Yellow with white daises. Much like the curtains his mother had put up in their kitchen. “A little low-rent for you?”

Her mouth dropped open for a second. Then she closed it and straightened her spine until she seemed to look down at him even though she was much shorter than he was.

“For your information, I was thinking how glad I am to be in a house rather than a tree, and how awesome a shower will feel. But I was also wondering what’s in that refrigerator and hoping it’s something good.”

He refused to feel chastened. Instead, he went over and yanked open the refrigerator. It wasn’t packed, but it had food in it.

“Looks good to me,” he said. “But you’d better know how to cook because I don’t.” That wasn’t precisely true, but damn if he was cooking for her after everything else.

“I can fix a few things,” she said. “But I’m no Rachael Ray.”

He let the door close. “Why don’t you shower first and then come in here and figure out what you want?”

She chafed her arms again and he handed over her jacket. She took it and draped it over her shoulders. But she didn’t leave.