Beyond Limits (Tracers #8)(76)
He switched off the light and drove on. Silence settled over them as he neared the highway.
He felt the regrets coming, fast and furious. Not only had they had sex after she’d announced her intention not to, but they’d done it in his truck in a public place.
“It was probably just a couple of teenagers,” he said. They’d probably chosen that road for the same reason he had.
She looked out the window. “I can’t believe that just happened.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because my friend’s in the hospital, and I’m getting off in some car.”
He turned onto the highway. His brain was still a little scrambled, but he knew better than to argue with her right now.
She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“How about having some fun?”
She snorted.
“What? What’s so bad? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you actually liked it.”
“Of course I liked it! That doesn’t matter. If that had been a cop back there, he would have asked for your ID and mine, too. And then it would have been a mess. I can see the headline: ‘FBI Agent Arrested for Public Lewdness.’?” She grabbed her shoes off the floor and shoved them onto her feet. “I told you, I’m not cut out for this.”
“Cut out for what?”
“This.” She waved her hand at his truck as if it were a rolling brothel.
“You’re trying to make it into something shallow so you can push me away.” He looked at her. “We both know what’s really happening here.”
“Oh, yeah? Tell me, Dr. Phil, what’s really happening here?”
“Forget it.” He trained his gaze on the road.
“No. Please enlighten me. What would you call this?”
He took a deep breath and swallowed down his temper. He didn’t want to fight with her. Not tonight. Not on his last night home, probably for months.
Shit.
He definitely should have told her he’d been called back early, but now it was too late. If he told her now, she’d think he’d kept it from her on purpose.
Which, truth be told, he had.
Fuck.
“I’m going back tomorrow.”
No response. He glanced over, and she looked as though he’d reached out and slapped her.
“They called us back early. Everyone. I have orders to report at 0800 Thursday.”
She cleared her throat. “Is it training or—”
“I can’t talk about it.”
She looked away. Her cheeks flushed again, but this time it looked like frustration. She’d asked him a simple question, and he couldn’t answer it.
There was nothing good to say, so for the rest of the drive, he didn’t say anything. He just drove, feeling more and more miserable the closer they got to her hotel.
He didn’t know what to do about this relationship. Because no matter what she said, it was a relationship. Granted, they’d gotten off to a rocky start, because she’d been investigating his teammate. And yes, it had been punctuated by months and months where they hadn’t even spoken to each other, much less been intimate. But that part was over now. They’d crossed a line. There was no going back, and her stripping her clothes off in the front seat of his truck was proof. She’d probably think it was crude and even egotistical, but the fact that she couldn’t keep her hands off of him after telling him in no uncertain terms that she wanted to call a halt to the sex proved he had a chance with her. She didn’t think he was relationship material? He’d show her she was wrong.
Starting now. Tonight.
He pulled into the parking lot of her hotel and found a space near her door. No sneaking around anymore, and if that got her in trouble, too bad.
“Elizabeth.”
She looked at him, and he saw the hurt in her eyes. He didn’t know what to say. He’d done a shitty job handling this up to now, but he could do better. He had a chance with her, and he was determined not to blow it.
He reached over and took her hand. “I went about this all wrong tonight. I should have insisted on taking you to dinner.”
She looked down at their hands together. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispered.
“I do.” He leaned over and gently kissed her mouth. “You’re inviting me in.”
* * *
Still awake?
Luke pressed send and stared down at his phone, half wanting, half dreading an answer. Finally, it came.
Yes.
And two seconds later: Where R U?
He took a deep breath and typed: Downstairs.
He watched his phone. Piano music wafted over from the bar behind him as hotel guests drifted in and out. He shifted on his feet as he waited for Hailey’s response.
I’m in 623.
He waited for the fear to hit him, and smack, there it was, a quick pop in the gut. He gripped his phone in his hand and tapped a reply with his thumb: Meet me in the bar.
As countermoves went, it was pretty good. Direct but not rude. Simple and to the point. It would have been the perfect response if he’d bothered to send it, but instead he got on the elevator.
The sixth floor was at the top, and it was every bit as pretentious as he’d expected. He made his way down the too-quiet hallway. He stopped in front of the door, and as he stood there staring at it, it hit him.