Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(35)
Her tears dried up quicker than a mirage in the desert, and she stilled in his arms.
No, no, no. This can’t be happening.
Her impression of a two-by-four obviously wasn’t lost on him, because he tilted her chin up and brushed her sopping hair back from her brow.
“What?” he asked, his lovely hazel eyes searching her face, his perfect nose dripping water from the tip, his luscious, swoon-worthy lips tilted in a frown. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
What was wrong? What was wrong?
She just realized she loved him, that’s what was wrong!
She loved him for his courage and his honesty, for his loyalty to his friends. She loved him for his strength and determination and, yes, even his stubbornness. She loved him like she’d never loved any other man, and he was determined, no, absolutely convinced, he’d never love her back. Which had all been fine and good when the idea of the two of them together was more fantasy than feeling, more lust than anything close to love. Last night it’d been a blow to her pride when he made that declaration, but now…?
Oh, sweet Lord, his words replayed through her head—I’ll never fall in love with you—and this time the blow, quick and deadly as a stiletto strike, went straight to her heart.
Tears once more burned up the back of her throat, but this time she refused to let them fall. If she let them fall when he was looking her smack-dab in the face, he’d know, he’d use that crazy skill of his to figure it out…
“It’s nothing,” she said, sliding from his arms—it felt like she left her heart behind. “Just one hell of a headache.”
Creakily, she pushed to a stand and rearranged the M4 so the magazine no longer threatened to take out her left kidney. And as quickly as it had started, the rain stopped. In the relative silence that followed, she could feel Rock watching her.
She tried to act nonchalant as she stretched the kinks from her neck and busied herself with a missing button on her shirt. Then the sun came out, and the world around them turned into a steam bath. Sweat broke out all over her already wet body, but still Rock sat there. Looking at her, undoubtedly trying to see inside her head.
She bent to retie the lace on her boot, tucked the bottom hem of her cargo pants more securely inside her sock, and realized she was quickly running out of distractions when, finally, he pushed to his feet. Taking a step toward her, her heart played the part of Mexican jumping bean and hopped into her throat.
No, no, no. Don’t press me for answers, she silently begged him.
And it was almost like he heard her thoughts, because he quickly changed direction and headed toward the side of the road with that loose-hipped swagger so many Southern men learned to perfect.
She cocked her head and watched as he pushed aside the lush foliage growing next to the road like he was searching for some sort of treasure hidden beneath.
What the—
Her curiosity took the slightest edge off her heartbreak, or at least allowed her to focus on something else, and she was amazed to find herself limping—her left ass cheek was going to be black and blue for a week—over to him, “What are you looking for?”
“A cipó cabeludo,” he said, shoving aside a huge fern.
“A what?”
“It’s a plant and it—ah, there’s one.” His face was triumphant when he straightened and handed her a…was that a leaf?
Yes. Yes, it was.
“Uh,” she frowned down at a tear-shaped piece of plant life sitting green and glossy in the center of her palm, “okay?”
“Chew on it,” he instructed, and she turned her head so she could regard him from the corner of her eyes, pursing her lips.
“Whatchu talkin’ bout, Willis?”
He grinned, and the expression went all through her. Because even though most folks wouldn’t label Rock as handsome, they’d have to agree that, when he smiled, he was absolutely beautiful. Those perfect lips, those flashing eyes…
“Chew on it,” he insisted again.
“And why would I want to do that?”
“Because of your headache. It’ll help with the pain.” He winked, hooking an arm around her shoulders like they were best buds.
And suddenly the sharp edge was back on her heartbreak. In fact, her heartbreak felt like nothing but sharp edges. Like there was a ball of shattered glass banging around behind her breastbone. And she knew there wasn’t a plant on the planet that could help with that…
***
Bam! Bam! Bam!
Bill almost spilled the glass of lemonade in his hand and, from the corner of his eye, he saw Eve nearly jump through the roof when someone pounded on the back door with a heavy fist.
“Who the hell is—” But that’s as far as he got before Ozzie burst onto the scene, followed quickly by Steady and Ghost.
“We hear you guys are up the Rio de Caca without the proverbial oar,” Ozzie announced with his usual, dramatic fanfare. “But never fear; the cavalry is here!”
“Lord, save us,” Becky muttered, pushing up from the table where she’d been in the process of downloading all the information she could find on Rock’s supposed targets onto her laptop. They’d already exhausted that avenue, but she’d needed something to occupy her time because none of them—her included—were used to sitting around with their dicks in their hands. Well…Becky didn’t have a dick, but the point was still valid. “With your IQ, I’ll never understand how you manage to not only mangle, but completely mix your metaphors.”