Especially him.
“I know.” He cleared his throat. “Life’s been busy.”
She turned around to face him, but splayed her hands against the wall on either side of her hips as she did a quick once-over of the man she’d once been crazy about.
Holy. Crap. He was hotter than she’d dreamed.
Like, much hotter than he’d been back when he was a scrawny eighteen-year-old leaving for war. Back when they shared their almost-night together. He’d just been starting to become the man he was today. And that man? He oozed confidence and raw, dirty sex.
Really, really dirty sexy.
She swallowed hard, her heart quickening. He had a few lines around his brows and mouth, probably from squinting in the desert sun, but his moss-green eyes spoke of things he’d seen that she would never begin to understand. Without a doubt, he’d gotten hotter.
More dangerous.
She ran her gaze down his body, taking all of him in. His biceps were huge and rock-hard, and she’d bet he sported a six-pack under that shirt of his, too. “You were busy for eight years?”
He lifted a shoulder. “It happens. But you were a hell of a lot easier to lure than I thought you’d be, all things considered.”
“You didn’t lure me here. I’m on a case for—”
“Mr. Washington.” He bowed. “Nice to meet you officially, Ms. Harris.”
“No. You didn’t.”
He laughed, the sound both annoyingly cocky and intensely attractive all at once. “Oh, I did. How’s it feel to be duped by an old friend?”
She forced her attention back to his face—and the conversation. When she locked gazes with him, she drew in a deep breath. While she’d been watching him, he’d been watching her. And now his eyes held a new darkness in them. Her insides quivered in response.
Shaking the unwelcome feelings off, she asked, “Wait. Are you saying you tricked me into coming here tonight?”
“Are you feeling okay? You’re really slow tonight.” He cocked a brown brow. “Are you really that surprised I could outthink you? I’ve done it before.”
She crossed her arms. “That’s up for debate.”
“Which part? The part about you being slow tonight, or the whole me-tricking-you-before thing?”
“The latter.” She stared him down, trying to regain her equilibrium in the face of the landslide that was Jake. “I’m never slow, and you know it.”
“Let me count the ways I’ve tricked you.” He held out his hand and counted off as he said, “The high school dance. Graduation. The night I tied you to a tree and made you—”
“Okay, okay. I get the point,” she cut in impatiently, her cheeks going hot. “That’s not what I meant, though. I meant why would you want to lure me in?”
“Why not?”
She canted her head. “You haven’t exactly been trying to get a hold of me since you went off to fight for freedom and country. You left your past in the past, though you swore you’d write to me once you got there. Obviously, I was part of that past you wanted to forget.”
It had been as if he was afraid if he ever contacted her again, he’d have to finish or something. Instead of risking it…he’d easily cut her out of his life.
It had hurt.
He glanced away and shifted his weight on his feet. “I didn’t want to forget you, Tara. I just …” He broke off, rubbing his jaw. “I was a kid. So were you.”
“I know.” She stared him down. “But you could have written. You broke your promise to me.”
Something flashed through his expression, but it left quickly. “You broke your promise to me, too. You’re still a thief.”
Not really. She wasn’t one of the bad guys anymore. “I don’t steal anymore, not like I used to. Now, I—”
“I know what you do,” he pointed out. “I hired you, remember? But stealing is stealing…and that’s what you’re doing.”
She clamped her mouth shut, stealing another glance at him. His brown hair was disheveled, his eyes were icy, and the hard line of his mouth told her more than words ever could how he felt about that. He was hot when he was angry. “Are we really going to play catch-up in a house we’ve both broken into?”
He crossed his arms. His light green gaze slid down her body, and back up, sending shivers through her body. Freaking. Shivers. Over the years, he’d apparently developed a way of looking at her that fooled her mind into thinking he’d done more than simply look. “I didn’t break in. You did.”
“What? Wait a second. Are you a…?” She did another quick glance down his body, not letting herself get distracted this time. He wore a gun on his hip, and since he’d always liked to prepare for all eventualities, he more than likely had another strapped to his ankle. He also had something in his pocket.