Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(16)

Darla only watches me. I know she's working hard to get the words out.

"You and Minka dated."

"She told you that, huh?" I ask, grumpy now. "What else did she say?"

"You were clingy."

Frowning, I'm ready to call Minka and bitch at her for lying. Something about Darla's expression tells me that she's the one telling lies.

"What else?" I push.

"She found you wearing her shoes once."

"I don't know about the clingy thing," I say, joining her on the couch, "but the shoes thing is a hundred percent true."

Even smiling, Darla scoots away from me a little. "Was that part of your assignment to wear her shoes?"

"No, but I did once dress up as a nun."

Smiling wider, Darla shakes her head. "I don't believe you."

"It's true. I wasn't very convincing, though. That's how I met Minka. She had the same target and made me. I made her too. No way would an old woman have such clear eyes."

"Is your job fun?"

"My old job and my new job aren't quite the same. I used to target people. Now I protect them when they're targeted."

"Which do you like better?"

"I've only been doing this job for a few days. We set-up shop a few months ago and did mainly lame jobs since then. You're my first real deal client. How am I doing?"

Darla doesn't answer with words. Her gaze runs from my hand to my forearm along my bicep to my throat where it lingers. Finally, Darla studies my face and nods.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" I whisper, raising an eyebrow.

The courage in Darla's expression falters, and she begins to breathe too quickly. I force my gaze to the TV where she's watching a travel show.

"I like the snow," I say, changing the subject. "I couldn't live in cold weather without growing to hate it. Still, as a kid and even later, I loved vacationing in the mountains."

"Do you ski?"

Returning my focus to her now calm face, I nod. "I'm pretty damn great at it too. I could teach lessons."

Darla smiles. "I'm good too. My grandfather was an instructor."

"Once I kill Locke, and you're safe, what do you think about us finding out who is the better skier?"

While Darla and I stare at each other, I see her working through the possibility of being free of Locke. What can she accomplish without the weight of fear holding her down?

"Okay," she whispers, and I struggle not to kiss her.

Her lips are begging for attention, but I force myself to stand up and walk to the kitchen.

"I'm restless. The apartment gym is empty. Let's go work out."

"I don't like exercise," she says, shuffling past me to the kitchen cabinet where she finds a bag of licorice. "I'm trying to gain weight."

"Bulk up with muscle," I suggest, stepping closer.

"No. I think jiggly will be a good look for me."

"Because you think gaining weight will make you less attractive to men like Locke?"

Darla gives me an odd look, and I suspect she's wondering if I'll want her less if she puts on twenty, fifty, or hundred pounds.

"You should keep in mind," I say, leaning forward, "how curvy women hook up too."

"I know."

"Locke suffers from a perverse vision of women, but most men don't," I murmur before stepping even closer. "I certainly don't."

Darla stares me directly in the eyes, nearly challenging me with her gaze. "Then you won't think less of me for skipping your workout idea."

Taking her challenge, I smile slyly. "Fine, but I'm restless. Let me work out while you enjoy the view. How's that sound?"

Darla shows me a little more of the woman she was before Locke. Sharing my smile, she bites into a piece of licorice.

"Fine, you exercise, and I'll eat."

"Let's go before you change your mind."

Darla hesitates when I open the front door and enter the hallway. I have my phone and gun at the ready.

"I can see down the hallway," I tell her. "The elevator and fourth-floor hallway are clear. The gym is empty. No one is getting the drop on us."

Even with my gun visible and seeing the view on the phone, Darla moves at a snail's pace to the elevator. Once we're inside, she looks ready to cry. I step in front of her and peek over my shoulder.

"If we need to run, make sure not to drop your licorice."

Darla stares at me horrified, blinks a few times, and then frowns. "I want a gun."

"Sure, that'll be our fun for tomorrow."

Darla tenses when the elevator dings, and the door opens. I already know the hallway is clear because of the cameras we set up illegally all over the apartment and streets around the building.

Once we're in the gym, I close the shades and shove a machine in front of the door to ensure no one can enter. Darla settles on the seat of an exercise bike and pulls out a piece of licorice.

"Can I watch TV?" she asks, eyeing the flat screen on the wall.

Stretching, I grunt in mock indignation. "Don't you want to watch me work out? I promise to give you a show."

Expecting her to shrink away, I'm startled when Darla tosses a piece of licorice at me. I snatch the candy an inch from my face. Her eyes light up in reaction to my quick reflexes. I give her a wink and toss the licorice in the nearby trash.