Way of the Warrior (Troubleshooters #17.5)(70)
He glanced up at her, and she quickly averted her attention to the guys discussing camera angles. Everyone raised their heads when two vehicles ambled down the gravel road. Kristy had only briefly met the couples who exited the vehicles. She felt a twinge of jealousy—or was it merely longing?—when the women gave their handsome men sweet kisses, took a duffel bag, and walked over to Chase. The two men stripped off their shirts as they began to fill Chase in on their surveillance and update them on the progress of the guys setting up cameras and motion detectors.
Kristy watched Griff as he tossed the last canvas onto a pile beneath a tree, turning when she heard the women coming up behind her.
Mollie, the dark-haired one, was taking in the trees all around with delight. “We don’t get to see the changing of the leaves in Florida. This is amazing!”
Addie, a fair-skinned blond, had a decidedly different expression on her face as she rubbed her arms. “It’s lovely, but it reminds me too much of that canned hunting property down in southern Georgia.”
Griff’s voice behind Kristy was a surprise. “You involved in that takedown?”
Addie’s expression went from fearful to proud. “Yep. Me and an unnamed former military guy who saved my fanny more than once.” The way she glanced at Risk rather gave that away, though.
Chase and the two men came over. “Griff, this is Risk, and this is Julian.”
Griff exchanged handshakes with the light-haired man first, then the dark-haired Latino. Neither showed any reaction to Griff’s damaged face. No doubt they’d seen worse.
“Thanks for giving us the place to pull this off,” Risk said. “We have a soft spot for women in trouble.” His hazel eyes took in his fiancée, then landed on Kristy.
“Glad to help,” Griff said. “I don’t cotton to anyone harassing a woman.”
Risk chuckled. “Cotton? Haven?t heard that word in a long time.”
“It?s one of my grandpa?s favorite expressions. Funny how it kinda slips out once in a while.”
Addie and Mollie pulled off their tops and shucked shorts to reveal bikinis and shapely figures. Addie raised her arms and called out to Chase, “I hope this is skimpy enough. I’m not going any tinier.”
Chase gave her a thumbs-up. “You both look perfect.”
While the two women stuffed their clothes in their duffel bags, Kristy shuffled out of her shorts. The net top was staying on, though. She wasn’t as brave as Griff was. And she could hear Eye’s voice in her head, dammit. Stop showing your skin, sinful woman! You are for my Eyes only. Get it? Eyes????
When Griff turned to her, he must have seen the angst in her eyes and the way she was gripping the bottom edge of her shirt. Thankfully, he didn’t call her on it. “Who else needs some instruction on driving a manual shift?”
Mollie raised her hand, and Addie said, “I drive one at my ranch. But I’ll watch, since I’ve never driven a Jeep before. Especially one with big ole wheels.”
These were definitely no ordinary Jeeps. Besides their huge wheels and higher profile, they were fitted with roll cages. Griff gave them the rundown on shifting gears, wrapping his hand over Kristy’s on the gearshift a couple of times when she was too slow in shifting. After about twenty minutes, she and the other gals had a pretty good handle on the process.
Griff leaned against the vehicle, instructing clearly one of his talents. “Muddin’ is a popular activity among the redneck crowd. At its core, it’s about driving around in the mud, spraying it everywhere, and gettin’ all dirty just for the fun of it. Sometimes we make it a formal race, like today.”
“Why, exactly, do people like to get all muddy?” Kristy asked.
It was the first time she saw a genuine smile on Griff’s face. “’Cause we can.” The scarred side of his mouth didn’t tilt up as far as the other, and it gave him an endearingly crooked smile. When he caught her staring at his mouth, it vanished. That wall came down again as he took in everyone and pasted on a pleasant expression. “You all ready to rock the mud bog?”
Risk hollered, “Hell, yeah!” and grabbed Addie’s hand, hauling her over toward the Jeeps. Julian shook his head at his friend’s unbridled enthusiasm, threaded his fingers through Mollie’s, and led her over.
Griff turned to Kristy, and she wanted to tell him that she liked his smile and to please not dim it just because she was looking at him. The words jammed in her mouth, and then Griff looked beyond her to ask Chase if the camera crew was ready. When he answered that they were, Griff nodded toward the Jeeps.
She followed him, taking in the width of his shoulders and the way his chest tapered to narrow hips. Despite his scars and everything he’d been through, he walked with pride and confidence. His T-shirt was so faded that she couldn’t make out what had once been on it. But it looked so soft that she fought the insane urge to touch his back, to run her hand down his spine.
“Where are the doors?” she asked. There was only a gaping hole where the doors should be.
“Don’t need ’em.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “And, no, you won’t fall out. You’ll be strapped in nice and tight.”
And he’d be sitting there right beside her.
Griff helped her climb into the driver’s seat, then went around the front and hopped in beside her. “Start her up like I showed you, and pull over to the line.”