Rushing the Goal (Assassins #8)(120)

“I did.”

“Good,” he said, moving his nose against hers. “This could happen all the time.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, I can have a key made for you.”

“January,” she said and he wrinkled his face.

“Fine,” he exhaled, nuzzling his nose against her jaw. “When do we meet Rick?”

“In an hour.”

“Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “Nervous.”

“Don’t be. We’ll be together. Nothing will happen.”

She hoped he was right. “Oh, I know. I just worry about Angie.”

“She’s okay and this will go well.”

He sounded so sure, but she wasn’t. Yet, she nodded and said, “Okay.”

Closing his eyes, he nodded his head, his lips resting lightly against hers. “Well, let’s go get ready, make some breakfast, and go face the dick.”

Neither of them moved, though. Meeting her gaze, he smiled as he pressed himself against her. He was deliciously hard, and of course, she wanted him. It killed her that he was leaving the following day, and she wasn’t sure if they’d get a moment free later since she was getting Angie. She also needed to take the edge off. So arching her hips against his, she whispered, “Or, we could pick up breakfast and coffee?

With a half-lidded look, he nodded. “Good idea.”

Smiling against his lips, Lucy closed her eyes and couldn’t agree more.





But neither of them was smiling when they pulled into the parking lot of Walmart. The tension in Benji’s truck was thick, and Lucy was convinced her heart was beating so hard it was going to shatter her eardrums. With his hand in hers, Benji followed her directions, parking in the back where she always did. Rick wasn’t there yet, and that made Lucy’s heart race. They were only two minutes early, but it wasn’t like Rick to be late on drop-off days.

“What if he doesn’t show?” she asked, her heart pounding against her ribs.

“Then we drive over to his house,” Benji said simply, looking out the window, for what, she wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what Rick drove. “He’ll be here.”

Before she could say anything, she saw his car coming down the lane and she sat up straight. “There he is.”

Opening the door, she got out, meeting Benji at the front of the truck as Rick parked. Before he could even get out, though, Angie was out of the car and rushing to Lucy, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Mommy,” she breathed, her face in Lucy’s stomach, holding her so tightly she almost knocked the air out of her.

“Oh, honey, I missed you,” Lucy said, holding back her tears as she kissed her daughter’s head.

“I want to go home,” Angie whispered, and Lucy nodded.

“Of course,” Lucy said, but Angie didn’t let her go. “Are you okay?”

“I just want to go home,” she said once more, and then Benji was crouched down beside her, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

“Hey, sunshine,” he said and Angie peeked out.

“Hey.”

“Wanna get in the truck? I think your mom and dad need to talk.”

She nodded. “Can I play with your phone?”

He held his arms out. She went to him and he lifted her up. “Of course.”

Tearing her gaze from them, Lucy pinned Rick with a look that was straight from hell. He was glaring, his fists clenched as he watched Benji put Angie in the car. He didn’t even say good-bye; he was just glaring like a son of a bitch. When she heard the door shut, she cleared her throat.

“Why is she upset?”

“Who knows?” he said, meeting her gaze. “She’s always bitching about something.”

“Shouldn’t that make you realize something is wrong?”

He just shrugged. “What do you want, Lucy?”

She took a step toward him, her fists balled at her thighs. “You ever do that shit again, I will come to your house, and I will—”

“Stop,” Benji said as he came up beside her.

“Yeah, better listen to your boyfriend there, Lucy, even though we all know no one can control that mouth of yours,” he said, his gaze meeting Benji’s. “I wouldn’t even try.”

“Listen, buddy—”

“I’m not your buddy,” Rick snapped and Benji nodded. “And we have nothing to say to each other.”

“No, we do,” Benji said sternly, and to her surprise, Rick’s lips pressed together as he sized Benji up. She wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Benji could kill him; he had at least a foot on him and also sixty pounds. He was a tank, while Rick was a smart car. Well, he was stupid, but size-wise, the comparison applied. With a calm but firm voice, Benji said, “I don’t know how we got off on the wrong foot, but we need to fix this. For no one else but Angie. I don’t care that you don’t like me, because I sure as hell don’t like you, but I refuse to have what happened this weekend happen again. You can’t keep a mother from her daughter, and I know Lucy would never do that to you, no matter how much she hates you.”

“Not that you call, anyway,” Lucy added, and Benji shot her a look that she shrugged off. She understood his cool, calm approach, but she wasn’t going to let the bastard off without knowing she could and would cut him.