Objective (Bloodlines #2)(51)

“What the shit?!” I huff, yanking open the door to the back.

“What?” she asks bewildered. My heart is pounding in my chest from thinking she disappeared on me. I crack my neck and roll my shoulders to try and settle myself down.

“I didn’t see you.”

“I was tired. I laid down,” she gestures to her sprawled out form running the length of the back seat.

“I see that,” I clip before turning and picking up the dropped bags. I toss them into the back seat with her not caring about her surprised ‘Hey!’ shriek before slamming the door shut and folding into the driver’s seat again. The crinkling of plastic bags fills the car before her cackles do. I turn to face her and find her lap filled up to her chest with at least ten boxes of tampons. Her shoulders are heaving with her laughter and she snorts a few times for good measure.

“What is all this?!” she finally gets out between cackles.

“Tampons,” I deadpan. Her shoulders start to shake again, her swollen eyes squeeze shut and her hands grip the seat edge tightly as she tries to control her giggling. I can’t take it. Her mouth opens and the biggest, loudest roar of laughter gushes out of her. My lips turn up and my ribs start to shake uncontrollably and just like that I lose it right along with her. The stack of tampon boxes tumbles from her lap as she fully on body laughs. As she tries to catch her breath she almost inaudibly says, “I don’t even need them....” I catch her eyes and realize this has all been a huge joke on me. My stomach hurts from laughing so hard. Somewhere during the ab workout we shared she climbed into the front seat again and now she playfully smacks my arm to get my attention. Her breathing, hell my breathing, is finally under control. I swing my face to hers and before I can utter a sound we both fall into a fit of hysterics again. My girl is funny.





*****


At almost eleven pm we pull into downtown Nashville. Mags has been asleep, head on my lap, for the last forty five minutes. I swing the car into the Hilton Downtown. Before the valet gets to the car I gently shake her awake.

“We’re here, baby girl. Time to wake up.” I brush the hair from her face and watch the way her nose crinkles adorably as she comes to. She sits up slowly and stretches. I hop out of the car, toss the valet the keys and grab the bags from the back before opening her door for her. She yawns and slides out before gasping and looking around in awe.

“Wow...” she breathes with excitement. “Look at this place, all the lights! Listen!” she shrieks. “You can hear the music!” I chuckle to myself at her show of awe. I grab her hand, lace her fingers through mine and tug her close to my side. When she’s up against me I lean in and kiss the spot just below her ear. Her body convulses at the contact and she stills. “My girl likes Nashville,” I whisper into her ear. I f*cking love the blush that creeps up her neck to her face. Standing up, I tug her behind me into the lobby so we can get a room.



The looks I got in the hotel lobby, in reaction to her clearly beaten face, almost made me lose my shit. As if she could sense it she’d placed her palm over the back of my hand and started rubbing her thumb back and forth methodically while wedged into my side. It was enough to keep my bubbling anger at bay. The key card makes a quiet click, the light goes green and I push the door open to our suite. One of the many perks of gun-running is having more money than I know what to do with on a regular basis.

“Whoa...” she whistles from behind me as we enter. The living area has taupe leather couches that are sleek and all angles. It’s not her shabby chic style but I know she’s impressed. Off to the right is the bath, complete with granite and a glassed-in large shower. To the left is the bedroom. The king-size bed looks lush with pillows piled high and a heavy down comforter. I watch as she walks the room, checking everything out and commenting on each miniscule detail. So. Fucking. Cute.

“Why don’t you shower, change and get ready to go out?” I suggest as she brushes past me.

“What, and not make use of this amazing suite for the night?!” she squawks in horror.

“We’re in Nashville, baby, we should see it,” I remind her. She walks to the window, parts the shades and stares down below to the cityscape. I walk up behind her, wrap my arms around her middle and kiss her sweet spot again. I don't think I'll ever get tired of that spot. It’s like its unhidden but that nobody can see it but me. It’s mine. One of her hands comes to rest over mine at her belly and she lets out a big sigh.

“What?” I ask.

“Look at me, Cane. I can’t go out like this.” Her words make me feel like the biggest scumbag on the face of the planet. Probably because I am.

“Do you want to go out?” I ask.

“Yes, but...”

“Then we’re going out. My girl wants to go out, it’s going to happen,” I state.

“Cane...” she breathes, body going rigid in my hold.

“Shut up and get cleaned up, Mags.” I demand. She turns in my arms and stares up at me. Her black eyes won’t really be hidden all that well with any amount of makeup but she’s still gorgeous. My stomach churns with disgust at the knowledge that I did that to her. She pops up onto her toes and stops just an inch shy from my mouth. I feel clammy and needy with want but I can’t do anything without her permission. I never could.