Wicked Need (The Wicked Horse Series Book 3)(32)

I smile in understanding and take a step back into her. Putting my arm around her waist, I pull her in and give her a kiss to her forehead. “Okay, I get it. You’re ready to charge into battle and nothing’s holding you back.”

She responds by wrapping both arms around my waist, her purse squished in between us. Squeezing me, she says, “That’s right.”

“You coming back?” I ask, bracing myself for the possibility that tonight might be the last time I ever see Cat again.

“I’m… well, I’m not sure,” she says quietly with her cheek still pressed to my chest, and that’s a better answer than I actually expected. Vegas is Cat’s hometown. She can get a job there quickly, I’d imagine. Nothing here to pull her back this way.

“So what time do we leave tomorrow?” I ask, throwing caution to the wind and then locking my arm tight as I expect her to pull away.

She jerks slightly but merely tilts her head back to look at me. “You want to go with me to Vegas?”

“Fuck if I’m going to let you ride off into battle alone,” I tell her with a charming grin. “I’m a white knight after all. Besides, I don’t trust Kevin or Richard. If for some reason they’re there, I don’t want you handling them on your own.”

“But your work,” she points out.

“Pish won’t care,” I tell her confidently. But he’ll so care. He’ll be pissed because he’ll have to get his ass up now and open the shop. He works late hours, preferring to do his inking at night, but I can’t worry about him right now. This is more important—although why, I’m not quite sure. But I’ve decided to follow my gut, and if I lose my job, so be it. I don’t need the money as my earlier sponsorship deals have left me financially secure. “Now how about we go grab some lunch and we can plan what we need to do?”

“No… I can’t let you do that. I can’t disrupt your life like that. This may be nothing more than a fool’s errand.”

Fool’s errand.

Funny.

Am I a fool for getting involved like this? Am I just entranced by what an amazing f*ck she is or is there something more with this woman?

“I’m going and that’s the end of it,” I tell her firmly, but then I try to emphasize that this truly isn’t a big deal. “And you’re not disrupting me. I wouldn’t have offered if it did, okay?”

“Rand… it’s too much—”

“Cat… I’m going so just accept it. It’ll be a fun road trip. We can buy sugary soda and sour gummy worms to eat on the way, sing bad 80’s songs at the top of our lungs. It’ll be awesome.”

I then give her my best and most charming smile.

The indecision and doubt on her face melts away, and she gives me a girlish laugh with a pat to my chest before releasing me. “Okay, fine. You can go.”

I take her hand, relieved that today will not be our last day together. As I lead her out of the breakroom and through the shop, we wind our way through racks of ski apparel, which is the most direct route to the door. Jake’s behind the counter and throws us a wave.

I call out, “Later, man.”

“This weekend,” he reminds me with a pointed look.

I just nod. I’ll have to call him later and explain this weekend isn’t going to work as, apparently, I’m going to Vegas with this woman and we may or may not be breaking into a house that may or may not belong to her. Also that I may or may not be developing some feelings for a woman who may or may not be in my life for much longer.





Chapter 12


Cat



Although it was a nipple puckering forty-two degrees when we left Jackson at six this morning, I don’t regret my decision to wear a loose, flowered skirt for the drive. This time of year in Jackson is amazing. The days are sunny and warm, but the nights get downright cold. The valley floor is thick with wildflowers just starting to fade but the alpine ones are peaking, which paint the mountains with color.

But we’re headed south now and when I checked last night, Las Vegas was holding steady with temperatures in the eighties, so I know my choice of apparel is sufficient. Besides, when I kicked off my taupe-colored ballet flats and put my bare feet up on the dashboard of Rand’s Suburban, I know he appreciated the way the skirt slid along my thighs and revealed my skin. I know this because his head immediately snapped my way for a moment. As he studied me, or rather my legs, his lips tipped upward. He didn’t say anything, but he did place a warm palm on my knee and slide his hand along the same path my skirt took. He did this pushing inward slightly so the stroke of his skin against mine was along the inside of my thigh.

Sliding his hand slowly along, he pushed my skirt even further up legs until his hand was resting just inches from my panty line.

My heart felt like it was about to explode. I knew if he moved his hand just slightly, he’d feel the dampness of my underwear. Yes, I was horny for this man. He f*cked me well last night, but it was only once, and then he proclaimed we needed to get to sleep because we had to get up early for the long drive ahead of us. With a man like Rand, I’m finding once just isn’t enough.

But he did nothing more than squeeze my inner thigh with his large, warm hand and then pulled it away so it could rest casually again on the steering wheel. It took a good twenty minutes for my heart rate to go back to normal and for me to think coherently.