Lace and Bullets(32)

“Theft?”

“Pickpocketing, mostly.” He glanced at her before turning onto the road. “You find everything you need?”

She nodded. Her world just kept getting crazier. “So where to now?”

Damien pointed toward a sign as they merged onto the interstate. “Next town is in a hundred miles. I figure it’s far enough away for the day.”

Mia smiled and turned toward the window. She wanted to tell him about the text and explain that they could stop running. She might even beg him to turn the car around.

The further they ran, the more it looked like they had something to hide. If she could convince Damien to talk to the authorities, she could get him a deal. She could make it all stop.

But if she told him now, he’d probably open the passenger door and push her right out. It didn’t matter that every time she looked at him, she fell a little harder. Damien was a killer. He wouldn’t understand why. He wouldn’t stop to listen.

Mia watched the small town disappear out the window as they drove into the country. Big box stores and warehouses thinned, houses stopped dotting the edge of the road.

Trees and fields took the places of civilization. They were in the middle of nowhere and nothing Mia said would change Damien’s mind.

She glanced at him. All rough edges and hard stares. But she’d seen the real him. The man he hid behind the tattoos and scars. The one who gave more than he took. The one who made her heart flutter and her breath catch.

She would hold her tongue until the time was right, even if it meant having to lie. Damien’s words came back to her and she curled up in the seat. Maybe she was swimming in the middle, right along with everyone else.





14





DAMIEN




He’d ground his teeth for so many miles, his jaw ached. Mia had been a knockout in itty-bitty shorts and a tank top. She’d been gorgeous in second-hand clothes three sizes too big.

But in skin-tight jeans and a T-shirt that clung to her breasts, she was a damn goddess. Falling for her was a terrible mistake. They could never be more than they were right then. A pair of criminals on borrowed time.

It didn’t change the way he burned inside. His heart twisted in his chest when she batted her black lashes. His cock throbbed in his jeans when she propped her toes on the dash. Christ. The woman was temptation served up on a platter.

He wanted to gorge himself on her body, make her come so hard she cried. He wanted…Fuck. He wanted to be the man she needed. A man who deserved her.

It was a fool’s dream.

His knuckles turned white on the wheel. As soon as they turned the car around or Marcelo caught up with them, Mia would see him for what he was. A criminal. A killer.

But as long as their past stayed in the rear view mirror, they could pretend. Mia’s words from that first night still echoed in his brain. She might have grown up with a nice house and fancy cars, but no one had ever given a damn about her.

Damien didn’t have a pot to piss in growing up, but he’d had Melanie. Even at his lowest moments, his sister had been there, trying to protect him. Mia deserved a glimpse of that life. A few days of something better.

He glanced at her as she leaned back in the passenger’s seat. He couldn’t give her diamonds or pearls or fancy dinners. But he could do more than force a moan past her lips.

For the first time since Melanie died, he would try to make a girl smile.

They pulled into the parking lot an hour later and Mia turned to him with a question. “What are we doing?”

“You’ll see.” Damien pushed his door open and shoved the keys in his pocket. As soon as the first sign for the place caught his eye, he knew it would be perfect. He loped around the back of the car and pulled Mia’s door open.

She stepped out with raised eyebrows. “I thought we weren’t stopping until the next town. Do you need a break?”

Damien bit his lip to keep from grinning. “Something like that. Come on.” He laced his fingers through hers and tugged her toward the entrance.

“I’m sure there’s a rest stop or a gas station just down the road.” Mia slowed and Damien pulled on her to keep moving.

“Trust me.”

Five minutes later Damien held two putters and matching golf balls in his hand.

Mia palmed her hip. “You want to go mini-golfing? Right now?”

“Yep. Right now. You need to get your mind off everything that’s happened, I need a break from driving.” He held out the red putter and ball. “What do you say?”

“I think you’re suffering latent effects from a concussion.”

“Take them.”

She hesitated before reaching for the ball and club in his other hand. “If we’re doing this, I’m blue.” She pointed the club at him. “I’ll warn you, I’ve got a mean putt.”