Barefoot with a Stranger (Barefoot Bay Undercover #2)(44)



“Really.” He slid her a look she couldn’t quite read. “And here I took you for an Amstel Light girl.”

“When the situation calls for beer, I am.” She pushed the bar of the swing-top cork, which opened with a satisfying pop. “I don’t suppose that farmer had plastic cups.”

“Put on your big-girl panties, Francesca, and take a swig. See how you like the…what did you call it?”

“Mama’s milk. I was raised on homemade wine.” She lifted the bottle to her mouth, the fragrance far sweeter and a little stronger than what she expected, but she tipped the bottle and took a good, long—

“Pffff!” She managed not to spit it out, but swallowing the bitter, disgusting stuff wasn’t easy.

“This isn’t”—she choked as her throat burned like someone had stuck a sparkler in her mouth—“wine.”

He was laughing, damn him. “They don’t grow grapes in Cuba, at least not out here. There are some imported plants that service the few wineries on the island, but that, my friend, is—”

“Rum.” She smacked her lips noisily as the burn wore off and left her numb. “God, I hate that shit.”

“Sorry. It was this or nothing. I thought we might need a drink.” He held out his right hand. “In fact, I do.”

“While you’re driving with no headlights inches from rushing water?” She turned to hold the bottle far away. “Not on your life. Not on mine.”

“Give it to me, Francesca.”

She puffed a breath. “I love when you go all alpha on me.”

He didn’t move his hand, waiting, driving around the next turn—that she hadn’t even seen, thank you very much—with one hand.

“Oh, what the hell. Apparently I’ve proven I can’t say no to you.” She handed him the bottle.

After drinking a decent gulp, he gave it back. “You can say no any time, by the way.”

“Oh, I won’t.”

That made him smile. “Good. Can I have a pepper now?”

She complied, handing him a whole red pepper that she brushed on her shirt to clean. He ate it like an apple and drove like a boss. And Chessie took another sip of the rum, letting the tiniest little buzz hum through her as her eyes finally adjusted and she was able to see the road. Sort of.

“Thought you hated rum,” he remarked.

“It’s growing on me.” But she corked the bottle after the next sip.

“Don’t let it grow too much, that stuff can knock you on your ass.”

It hadn’t, but she could feel the first sensations of heavy arms and a lovely relaxation in her neck. “Are we almost there yet?” she asked with the pretend whine of a child.

“Maybe…five more hours.”

“All this to avoid people we don’t even know were following us.”

He didn’t reply, but a distant rumble of thunder echoed, making Chessie lean forward to check out the sky. Thick with clouds now, there were no stars, and the half-moon was just about obliterated.


“Are you going to stop if it rains?”

“Depends how hard it pours.”

“Do the windshield wipers work?”

He reached to the dash and felt around, but she already spotted the dial. “It’s here.” She twisted it and…nothing. Tried again, nothing. “How many pesos did you part with for this beauty, again?”

“You can’t put a price on freedom, honey. Ask any Cuban you meet on this trip.” He took a slow curve up a slight rise in the road, then down again. The car still bumped and rolled over potholes, and every once in a while they slid through mud and the tires shmooshed in the slush.

And then the heavens opened up and mocked them completely.

“Son of a bitch,” Mal muttered as he slowed when visibility dropped to zero.

“We should just stop until it clears. Maybe until morning.”

He considered that, inching along and leaning forward with a frown. “Not out in the open.”

They hadn’t seen another car since she woke up, and she seriously doubted they would, but she knew better than to argue with a spy. “Maybe we can find a secluded place in the trees.”

“I don’t want to get stuck in mud. Hang on.” Fully concentrating, he eased them through a small lake. “If we can get to higher ground, we can see lights coming in either direction.”

“And then what will we do? Drive in the opposite direction so they don’t see us?”

“No, we’ll get out and hide, and anyone who finds this will think it’s an abandoned car.”

“That they will steal.”

“We’ll take our bags,” he said with the confidence of a man who clearly thrived on these kinds of situations. “They’re right there in the backseat, easy to grab if we have to run. And there is no higher ground, I’m afraid, so here we are.”

“The fun never stops.”

He threw her a heart-stopping smile and pulled off the road. “Baby, it hasn’t even started yet.”

And her stomach dropped down and fell right through the creaky floorboards.





Chapter Fourteen





Mal didn’t think anyone had followed them after leaving Havana, but he would have bet good money there’d been a tail in the airport.

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