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Someone Like Her(15)

By:Sandra Owens






CHAPTER FIVE




The boss didn’t want his sister to know about this place, so he now had one more reason to kill Jake. Jake closed the garage door, then helped Maria unload her car. Inside, she sat the cat’s carrier down and looked around. He could see the questions forming and tried to think of a plausible story.

 “Jake, why do you have a garage door opener to this house?”

 “Ah . . .”

 She glared at him. “Don’t even think of trying to lie. What is this place for?”

 Kincaid planned ahead for everything, so why hadn’t he thought of a cover story? “It’s like this,” he said, then closed his mouth. It was like what? Right now he thought he might prefer to be in Afghanistan, listening to sniper bullets whizz past his ears.

 Okay, not really, but finding himself caught between brother and sister was almost as bad. One of them was going to fire him for going behind his back, and the other was looking up at him with dark, coffee-colored eyes he couldn’t bring himself to lie to.

 He set the paper sacks of chicken on the kitchen counter and leaned back against it. “Your brother got a little paranoid after Dani was kidnapped, and you know how he plans ahead for any situation. He wanted a safe house close to you.” Jake shrugged. “If it was ever needed.” Along with Kincaid, both he and Jamie Turner had access to this place, just in case.

 She walked to the door of the living room and after a quick peek, turned back to him. “So why didn’t he just let me live here?”

 Now that was a dumb question. “Then it wouldn’t have been a safe house, would it? Plus, it’s too isolated. He was more comfortable knowing you were in an apartment complex with night security.”

 Fire shimmered in her eyes, and the desire to bed all that heat hit him hard. He moved to the table and sat, hopefully before she noticed the bulge in his jeans. A low growl sounded from the carrier at his feet, and Jake glanced down. The inappropriately named feline was giving his crotch the evil eye.

 He was losing it. Nothing some food, a good night’s sleep, and about two hundred miles between him and the temptation of Maria Kincaid wouldn’t cure. Maybe.

 “Have you both come and stayed here while you spied on me?”

 He jerked his gaze to hers. “No, of course not.”

 Well, he hadn’t, but the boss had once when she was in the middle of breaking up with the uptight boyfriend. Kincaid wasn’t happy that the kid hadn’t believed Maria when she’d told him it was over. An overnight stay and a few words with the ex-boyfriend had taken care of the problem, but Jake wasn’t about to go there.

 But it wasn’t spying, so he wasn’t lying, and, God help him, now he was rhyming. Any time he got near her, his brain short-circuited.

 “Maria, bring those bags over here.” At her rebellious look, he belatedly added, “Please.”

 She huffed an annoyed-sounding breath but did as he asked, plopping the sacks down in front of him. “What’d you get me?” she asked, taking a seat across from him.

 “A chocolate shake, cheese fries, and wings. The kind where you need a fireman standing next to you before you can eat ’em.”

 Her pleased-with-him grin went straight to his heart, causing it to do disturbing cartwheels in his chest. She wasn’t his, could never be, but the foolish thing refused to believe it. Turning his attention to the food, he chowed down on his grilled chicken breast, corn, and pinto beans while thoroughly enjoying watching her. No matter her troubles, she could eat with enthusiasm. Considering what and how much she ate, it was beyond him why she didn’t weigh a ton.

 Jake stilled when she licked her fingers after cleaning the bone of her last wing. It was the way she went about it—her eyes closed as if she were in ecstasy as her tongue lapped each finger—that had him straining against his jeans. Jesus. He stood, knocking over his chair, and headed for another room. Didn’t matter which one as long as she wasn’t in it.

 “Logan left a message giving me until five to call him.”

 Well, that was as good as a bucket of ice water dumped over his head. Returning to the table, he picked up his chair and sat. He’d received similar messages from the boss. Kincaid’s antennae were definitely twitching. “Yeah, he’s left me several. Guess you’d better call him.”

 The smile that appeared on her face was one a woman used on a man when she wanted something, and he was pretty sure he knew just what. Although, if she kept looking at him like that, he’d probably agree to anything, a fact he fully intended to keep to himself.