Strong Enough (Tall, Dark, and Dangerous #1)(17)

“Maybe it’ll help you to know that I found an electric bill your dad paid recently. It was on a credit card that he hasn’t used in years and the address was for an apartment in Atlanta. Do you know anything about that?”

An apartment in Atlanta? What the hell?

I frown. “No, I don’t. But why would he . . . I mean . . . ?”

“I can’t tell you the why, but I can get you there and you can ask him yourself. How’s that?”

Although now I’ve got more questions, relief washes through me. The payment of a bill isn’t concrete evidence that he’s okay, but it’s pretty damn close. Plus, now that I think about it, this sooo sounds like a Plan B my father might have. He’d hide out in some obscure place and wait until I found him. And he knows I would. The Colonel knows that I’d come looking for him and that if I got someone good enough to help me look, eventually I’d find my way to him.

I don’t even bother to ask Jasper how he accessed my father’s credit card information. Something tells me I don’t want to know. Not that he’d tell me anyway. That would be far too civil and forthcoming for a man like him.

“You two are close, it seems.”

Close, it seems. I love the way Jasper talks. He doesn’t use much slang, doesn’t curse much. It’s like he’s too controlled, too . . . precise to take the lazy way out. His voice is very cultured, too, which strikes me as odd for a bounty hunter. But still, it suits him. On anyone else it might seem out of place, but somehow it fits this complex man.

He’s got this chameleon-like way about him. It’s as though, despite his incredible good looks and a presence so big it could practically suffocate you, he could be anyone from anywhere doing anything. Just Anonymous Joe, someone simply passing through, slipping by under the radar. In a way, it seems like life couldn’t find a box for Jasper, a label or a type, so he made his own.

“Yeah, I suppose we are,” I finally say in answer to his observation.

“You never mention a mother.”

I’m inordinately pleased that Jasper is finally engaging in some sort of polite conversation, even though “polite” might not be the best way to describe it. It feels more like an obligatory interrogation, but I’ll take it. I’ll take any excuse to talk about my father, to keep him first in my thoughts, which I never dreamed would be a challenge. Doing it with Jasper is just icing on the cake. I imagine that doing anything with Jasper would be a pleasure.

When my cheeks warm, I focus on the conversation to keep my mind off . . . other things.

“She left when I was little.”

“Left?”

“Yep. She just left.”

“Have you ever tried to find her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“If she didn’t want us then she doesn’t deserve us.”

Jasper nods with his humph. “I get that.”

“My father never encouraged it either, which I guess I always took as his way of saying that I didn’t really want to know. So I’ve never looked. Don’t plan to either.”

There’s a short pause, but he keeps the conversation going, which thrills me. If only it hadn’t gone in this direction.

“What about this boyfriend-slash-coworker of your father’s?”

“What about him?”

“Tell me about him. Maybe he could help me find your dad.”

I take a deep breath. I really don’t want to discuss Matt with Jasper, but . . . I don’t think I have much choice. Because Jasper could be right. Matt might know something, even if it’s something little.

“His name is Matt Conklin. He’s an engineer for a private defense company. My father was a security consultant for them. That’s how we met.”

“And what did he think about you leaving to move across the country?”

My smile falters a little, embarrassment and a still-tender wound making my lips tremble. “He didn’t like it. At least that’s what he said, anyway.”

“You don’t believe him?”

I shrug, trying to act casual. “Well, he let me go, so . . .”

“His loss,” Jasper declares. I’ve tried a million times to tell myself that, but it never takes the sting away from being so easily forgotten. “He’s probably kicking himself now.”

I appreciate the thought, and I’ve often wondered if Matt ever thinks of me, ever misses me or regrets letting me go so easily. He wasn’t about to uproot his life and come with me into obscurity.

We fall quiet for what ends up being just a few more minutes until Jasper spots the sign for the hotel he was looking for. Once out of the car, we follow much the same routine as we did previously, only this time I intend to pay for both rooms, since I was in such a twirl last night that I didn’t even get near the counter. The only thing that’s missing is that kiss. God, that kiss!

My skin feels flushed and sensitive as the memories of having Jasper pressed to my front, his lips devouring mine, burn through me like long, hot flames. Holy Lord!

Ruthlessly, I jerk my mind back to the present and I stare, probably a little harshly, at the hotel clerk as she types furiously into the computer, searching for vacancies. She’s an attractive blonde who I estimate to be in her early thirties. She has a thick accent and bright blue eyes that continually flicker to Jasper. I can’t blame them. He’s standing beside me, tall, strong and silent. He doesn’t have to say a word to make an impression, though. He just has to show up. He just has to be.