Gone (Deadly Secrets #2)(30)

“Dude, did you see McCollum’s dunk? That thing was sick.”

“Yo, man. He brought the house down last night. That guy’s the real deal. I’m tellin’ ya.”

“Plumlee cleaned the glass too. They’re fuckin’ all-stars. We’re goin’ all the way this year.”

Heat surrounded Alec as the doors closed and the car began to move again. A heat that had nothing to do with the number of bodies in the cramped space and everything to do with the soft curves pressed up against him, making all the dead places inside him suddenly come to life.

He knew it was a bad idea, especially when he was already still shaken from being in their apartment, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from looking down at her. And when he did, his pulse beat even faster because Raegan wasn’t watching the teens or paying even an ounce of attention to what they were saying. She was staring up at him with the softest green eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes he still dreamed about every damn night.

All that heat around him intensified. Seeped from her into him or him into her, he wasn’t sure which. The only thing he knew was that the temperature was growing warmer in the tiny car. So hot his skin tingled, his fingers twitched, and his body grew hard and hot and achy.

The elevator dinged, and the doors whooshed open. The boys’ voices faded as they stepped out of the car and disappeared around the corner. But Raegan didn’t move, and neither did Alec. He couldn’t because all he felt was a growing urge to slide his hands into her silky auburn hair, to tip her mouth up to his, to taste her the way he’d wanted to taste her last night in his kitchen.

She blinked and stepped back, breaking the connection. Without a word, she moved out of the elevator, leaving him alone. Alone to wonder what the hell was happening and why he’d thought helping her with these silly cases had been a good idea at all.

He took a second to clear his head. When the elevator doors began to close, he still wasn’t ready, but he pushed a hand between the doors, forcing them open again, and finally stepped out.

The cool air of the lobby surrounded him, easing at least one of his problems. Ahead, though, Raegan tied the sash of her coat around her waist and fixed the strap of her purse over her shoulder, averting her gaze in a way that told him she hadn’t missed what had almost happened in the elevator and that she was just as rattled as he was.

Irritation pulsed inside him. An irrational irritation, all things considered. What the heck did he expect? That she’d want him to kiss her? After last night when he’d shut her down? She had every right to be confused by the mixed messages he was sending, but holy hell . . . he was just as confused by them himself.

She pushed the lobby door open and moved out onto the sidewalk. “Are you driving or do you want me to?”

“I’ll drive. Black Dodge over there.” Body still vibrating with things he didn’t want to think about right now, Alec pulled the keys from his jacket pocket, desperate for something—anything—to do with his hands so he wouldn’t be tempted to put them on her. “Do you have the address?”

“Yeah.”

They headed toward his truck. In the old days, he would have opened the door for her, would have helped her in, but today he didn’t trust himself, so he walked around to the driver’s side and let her fend for herself.

Once inside, she set her purse on the floor at her feet and fluffed her hair from her jacket collar, then rattled off the address. “I called ahead. The wife was home. She didn’t sound excited to talk to us, but said she’d give us a few minutes.”

A few minutes. Wow. He was fucking up his whole day for a few minutes.

As he punched the address into his GPS, he tried to ignore Raegan’s familiar jasmine perfume, the scent that always made him hot, but failed miserably. That urge to touch her again came back full force, messing with his head and heating up his body in a way he didn’t want.

“This is in east Portland,” he said, trying to focus on anything other than the fact she smelled good enough to eat. “Probably take us about twenty minutes in afternoon traffic.”

“Yeah, probably.”

He punched in the last number and put the truck in drive. The navigation voice echoed in the speakers, telling him where to turn.

Raegan was quiet for several minutes as they left the Pearl District and headed over the Broadway Bridge. On the east side of the river, she shifted in her seat, and out of the corner of his eye, Alec noticed her tight shoulders and clenched jaw.

That didn’t seem like confusion. It screamed stress—or anger.

“So,” she said in the silence. “Last night after we said good night, I had a little bit of a surprise.”

He glanced sideways at her, unsure how to read her. “What kind of surprise?”

“A note on my windshield kind of surprise.”

He wasn’t sure why she was telling him about some silly flyer. He merged onto I-5 South.

“It was handwritten. Only contained two lines.” She exhaled. “I’m not even sure I should tell you what it said.”

He switched lanes and shot her a look. “What do you mean you don’t know if you should tell me? Why are you bringing it up then?”

“Because Jack Bickam might call you about it. I gave it to him this morning.”

A tingle ran down Alec’s spine. “Bickam? Why? What did the note say?”