Thrill Ride (Black Knights Inc. #4)(49)

Life was about loss. He’d learned that lesson the hard way. And loving someone only compounded that loss…

So, no. There was no use in wishing things were different. Because even if they were, he’d never be able to give her what she wanted. He’d never be able to let himself love her; he couldn’t suffer that kind of hurt again. And he’d certainly never allow her to fall in love him, to know she’d suffer after his death the way he’d suffered after Lacy’s.

“We need to get goin’,” he grumbled, pulling away from her even though it caused a startling ache to set up shop in the center of his chest. His jaw worked like a stone grinder as he dug in his pack to pull out the last package of antiseptic wipes, handing them to Vanessa so she could clean up as he shoved himself back in his pants, adjusting his knife in its sheath before bending to retrieve his gear belt.

“Rock.” She tilted her head, watching as he stood, her expressive eyes confused, pleading. “I…I don’t understand…”

And, oui, why would she? He felt like a giant ass.

“I didn’t want it to go that way, mon ange,” he admitted, buckling the belt in place as he stared down at his jungle boots like this was the first time he’d seen them.

“What? Why?” He glanced up to find her ripping open the pack of wipes with her teeth before putting them to use. A deep blush warmed his cheeks as she cleaned the evidence of his blunder from her hand and the tank of the old dirt bike.

Christ, he’d popped off like a champagne cork at a New Year’s Eve party, and he hadn’t lost control like that in years.

What a colossal goatscrew!

“Because I—” he began, then suddenly stopped.

“Because you what?” she asked, stuffing the used wipes into his pack before passing him his 9mms. “Why didn’t you want it to go that way?”

He shoved the weapons in his waistband, giving himself a moment to try to explain to her. But the moment passed and…

Nada.

He had nothing.

“I just wanted it to be all about you,” he finally said, and one sleek black brow slowly climbed up her forehead. He had the inexplicable desire to lean forward and kiss it.

Non, non, non. Bad idea. Colossally bad idea. Because he was absolutely certain that one kiss would set them both off again. One kiss and this time they wouldn’t stop at a couple of hand jobs. Hell no. They’d take it all the way to the finish line.

“Well, why in the world would you want that?” she demanded, buttoning her shirt, covering up those exquisite breasts of hers which—whew!—allowed him to stop acting like that tree behind her was the most fascinating specimen of plant life on the planet.

“Because I wanted it to be a good memory for you,” he said, watching covertly as she tucked the tail of her shirt into her pants before zipping them up and clicking the snap closed. “Because I wanted you think back on me, on…on this moment, with fondness.”

“And you think me giving you a little reciprocal pleasure would…what? Diminish that somehow?”

No. No, that’s not what he was thinking. But he didn’t dare tell her what he was thinking because he was scared to death to admit it fully to himself. In fact, he was very afraid he might be skating precariously close to an epiphany he in no way, shape, or form, wanted to have…

So he simply shook his head and shrugged.

She snorted. “Well, that was just silly of you, wasn’t it? Because in case you haven’t figured it out yet, it’s a point of pride for me to give just as good as I get.”

And, oh Lordy, she wasn’t kidding about that…





Chapter Thirteen


“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” Becky asked as Eve tightened her seatbelt and started the Land Rover’s engine. The vehicle came to life with a loud rumble that echoed inside the closed garage and inside Eve’s quaking chest.

“I know this city a lot better than you do,” she said, surprised her voice came out as steady as it did considering there was a whole colony of butterflies fluttering around in her stomach, threatening to come crawling up her throat at any minute.

Was she really about to involve herself in a car chase with the CIA?

She adjusted her rearview mirror, caught a glimpse of her reflection, and frowned at the look of wide-eyed terror on her face.

Oh, come on! It’s not like you’re about to engage in a gun battle or anything. You’re just going to drive…fast…with the CIA hot on your tail. Oh, good gracious…

Okay, and she turned off the internal pep talk since it obviously wasn’t working—typical, really, of most of her internal pep talks…

With a shaky finger, she reached up to press the button on the garage door opener, watching as the contraption ascended inch by excruciating inch. And, yes, there it was. That white van. Just sitting there. And behind those tinted windows, it was filled to the brim with government agents.

Government agents whom she was about to lead on a wild goose chase.

Geez Louise…

“You sure you can handle this?” Becky pressed, eyeing her bloodless face with concern.

In response, Eve took a deep breath, drank that metaphorical concrete milkshake Boss spoke of, and reached over to yank Becky’s seatbelt tight. “Just hold on to your hat, sister,” she said as she threw the Land Rover into reverse and burned rubber down the driveway.