Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(39)
Rock glanced at his hand, frowned, said a really filthy word in French, and hid his fist behind his back.
“Not that I wouldn’t still think you were fine, too, even covered in cow manure or pig slop,” she added, watching delightedly as his jaw slung open.
Deciding that was the perfect time to make her exit, she didn’t wait for him to respond—simply turned and ran into the trees. Immediately, she was overwhelmed by the sound of insects buzzing, birds chirping, and monkeys screeching in wary alarm. Of course, compared to the noise pollution that was Sir Rusty RidesLikeATank, the jungle’s cacophonous song was a symphony.
And it was just what she needed for the next few minutes. Because the loud, buzzing hum of the rainforest was guaranteed to drown out the sound of her voice.
Traipsing through the undergrowth, she stopped when she figured she’d gone some thirty yards or so from the trail. Leaning against a tree, dragging in the rich smell of wet foliage that was a welcome reprieve after sucking in the dirt bike’s rank exhaust for the last three-plus hours, she opened up the packages of wipes Rock had given her and scrubbed her hands and face. The medicated cloths smelled stringent but, more importantly, clean. So she used the last bit of moisture on each to swipe at her armpits. Then she figured she’d stalled for about as long as she could, so she slipped her cell phone from her pocket and thumbed on the device.
Oh, look at you, you three big, beautiful bars!
But, still, she hesitated. If she did this thing…
A myriad of thoughts spun through her head, all of them resulting in Rock losing what little trust he had in her.
But this is what’s right, she told herself. So, raking in a determined breath, she took one more moment to still her shaking fingers—he’s going to kill you for this, that pesky voice insisted—and punched in a number she knew by heart.
A series of beeps and clicks established her secure connection, and then there was no turning back.
***
Is this really happening?
Eve glanced at the faces surrounding her and decided, yes. Yes, this was really happening.
She was really crammed in her master bedroom closet with a half-dozen hardened operators watching Ozzie finger one of her silk slips while licentiously wiggling his eyebrows at her. “Nice,” he said, nodding appreciatively.
“Uh…thanks,” she told him, rolling her eyes when he winked as if to say, I can think of a lot of other ways you can thank me, sweet britches.
And, yes, he’d actually called her that once. Sweet britches.
Who did that?
Ozzie apparently. But, in spite of herself, and in spite of Ozzie’s general inclination to toss out ridiculously demeaning pet names, Eve couldn’t help but like the guy. He was just so…so…easy, she guessed was the word. Easy to get along with. Easy to brush off. Easy to not take seriously.
Unlike Billy…where everything was serious.
And speak of the devil. Right on cue, Billy slapped Ozzie’s hand like one would a recalcitrant child. “Cut that shit out.”
“Why?” Ozzie demanded in a stage whisper.
“Because it’s annoying.”
“You’re annoying,” Ozzie snapped back.
“Jesus!” Billy hissed, once more having to smack Ozzie’s hand away because the Black Knights’ computer whiz kid was now in the process of lifting her slip up to his nose in order take a deep whiff. “I said, cut it out!”
And even though she knew Ozzie was just trying to get a reaction from her and Billy and anyone else who might want to jump into the fray, Eve couldn’t help the blush that stood out like two red flags on her cheeks. The combination of fair skin and a tendency toward almost debilitating shyness was the bane of her existence. Of course, she was working very hard on that last one…
“Party pooper,” Ozzie whispered, sticking out his bottom lip and rubbing his hand as if Billy actually hurt him.
“Both of you guys need to zip it,” Boss commanded and, despite herself, despite her determination to “grow a pair,” the man’s booming bass, especially echoing in the small space, made her jump.
She jumped again when Billy reached out to lay a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Easy, Eve. We’re okay.”
Crimeny. The way she was hopping around, you’d think she was standing on live electrical wire. And all those gathered in the closet with her had to think she was the world’s biggest wimp. Yep, she could almost see the circus sideshow advertisement now…
Come one, come all! See the woman with the amazing backbone of a squid!
Great. Just…great.
Taking a deep breath, promising to smack herself upside the head should she jump for no reason again—a little aversion therapy never hurt anyone—she glanced around the group, briefly registering the fact that she missed the warmth of Billy’s hand when he removed it. “Are we really okay? Because if that’s the case, I don’t understand why we’re all crammed in the closet. And just what the heck is an optical bug anyway?”
After Ozzie held up that message, to her utter befuddlement, they’d talked inanely of food for the next couple of minutes until Steady—she’d learned he was the equivalent of the Black Knights’ doctor-on-staff—strolled over to her Bose iPod dock and jacked in his iPhone. Seconds later, the booming beats of Los Lobos blasted through the house, and Boss motioned for everyone to follow him.