She sighed. “If I don’t go with you, you’ll just skulk around my apartment complex and scare people.”
Maybe she did know him better than he’d thought. “I don’t skulk.” The idea was a little insulting. He started the engine and drove sedately out onto the main road, turning quickly to use back roads to the car rental place, which took longer than he’d planned. By the time they reached the business, his truck was already waiting on the front curb, gleaming beneath the streetlight.
“Angus Force sure gets things done,” Dana mused.
True. Wolfe parked the car, tossed the rental agreement and keys in the after-hours box, and once again took Dana’s hand to lead her to his truck. Her hand was small and her skin soft against his, and he tried not to notice. He really did.
She hesitated at his truck, pulling free. “I’m not sure I should stay with you.”
He turned to face her, knowing exactly what she meant. Even if he had it in him to be coy, he wouldn’t be with her. Her green eyes glowed in the dim light, matching the corset that pushed up her breasts, creating enticing mounds. Her legs were bare to the heels, and somehow, even her knees were sexy. She was the girl next door, the ambitious professional, the sweet woman who’d befriended him when she’d had no reason to be nice. Somehow, she brought out a side of him he’d thought had died on a dusty road a million miles away, along with his teammates. With her, and only with her, he wished he could be different from the man he’d become.
Worse yet, she had a penchant for barreling headfirst into danger, and everything about him spelled danger. He felt the draw between them, and he’d fought it since day one.
He swallowed as desire hit him so hard he couldn’t speak for a moment.
Her eyes darkened and she shifted her weight, knowledge tilting her lips. “So. I stay at my place and you stay at yours?”
It was a smart plan, except for the fact that she might be in danger. “I’d rather have blue balls than you dead, sweetheart. Get in the truck.”
Her face flushed. “Wolfe. Geez. You’re not supposed to say everything that pops into your head.”
He reached for her arm, assisting her into the truck. “Hazard of a brain injury, I guess.” He waited until she settled and then gently shut the door, wishing he could shut down his attraction for her as he crossed in front of his vehicle and jumped into the driver’s seat. Once he’d ignited the engine, he drove away from the curb. He’d already survived the closest thing to hell he could imagine, but something told him the next few days with her at his house would be worse. He needed to find the guys after them and take off their heads, now.
“Wolfe. Geez.”
Crap. He’d said that out loud. Yep. This was going to be tough.
Chapter Three
By the time Dana had packed her clothes and research files and returned to Wolfe’s truck, she was starving, and still uncomfortably turned on, or maybe her breathlessness resulted from the aftermath of the car chase. An image of Wolfe in those pants flashed through her head. Nope. Turned on, for sure. At least she’d had a chance to change into worn jeans and a comfy flannel shirt. As she retook her seat on the passenger side, he slid his phone into the cup holder between them.
“Force just called and I need to drop by the office,” he said, starting the engine and pulling the truck out of her lot.
She glanced at the clock on the dash, frowning. “It’s one in the morning.”
Wolfe shrugged. “We work when Force wants to work, and that’s usually late. I didn’t see any activity around your building, so you’re safe for now.”
Her adrenaline had finally ebbed so she could think clearly. She shivered. Getting shot at shouldn’t be in her wheelhouse, but it was happening more frequently. “Who’s after you?” she asked, plucking at a string on her jeans.
“Nobody who matters.” Streetlights and darkness took turns highlighting and shadowing his strong face as he sped toward his office outside of D.C., his voice deep and unemotional.
“That’s not true. You’re hunting them, too.” She knew him well enough to understand he was on a mission of his own, one that had him often disappearing for a day or two at a time. “We help each other with cases.” When she’d been in trouble before, she’d called Wolfe, but he’d never confided in her. Yeah, it hurt a little. A one-way friendship didn’t appeal to her—even though he did. At some point, she was going to have to get a grip and move on if he didn’t let her in. “Why won’t you let me help with this case you’re on? I know you’re not letting your team know or provide backup.”
“I don’t need help.” His tone didn’t invite discussion.
Her temper boiled up faster than her mom’s pie filling in a cast-iron pot. Her taste in men sucked. Without question. She was also getting tired of him thinking she wanted a white picket fence and that she wanted it with him. What an ego. Why did she keep getting involved with impossible men? As if on cue, her phone buzzed.
She sighed. Yep. It must be after midnight. Without looking, she reached into her purse and declined the call.
Wolfe didn’t look over. “Who was that?”
“I don’t need your help,” she retorted, taking an admittedly immature pleasure in tossing his words back at him.
He turned then, those incredible bourbon-colored eyes catching her off guard once again. “We bring different talents to our friendship. I take care of problems.”
The guy truly underestimated what he had to offer, but it wasn’t her job to fix him. Not by a long shot. “And I do . . . what?”
“You do research and . . . let me take care of problems.” His grin was intriguing in that it failed to soften his face in the slightest. “I’ve noticed your phone ringing at weird hours, and I’ve also noticed that you tense up in a way that shows you do not want your phone to ring at weird hours. It’s time you told me what’s happening.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s a two-way street, my friend.”
He pulled into a ’70s-style office building in the middle of nowhere, parking near the door and away from the one flickering streetlight. “We’re not finished with this discussion.”
She faltered. “I can stay in the truck.”
He turned again, his dark eyebrows rising. “That’s silly. Why wouldn’t you come inside?”
She rubbed both hands down her jeans. “I’m a freelance reporter, and your team works for the government. Nobody wants me there.” They were good people on his team, but most feds didn’t want a journalist snooping around their offices.
For answer, Wolfe jumped out, shut his door, and appeared at her door in a second. “You’re part of the team, Dana.” He helped her out, strong and sure, and butterflies once again zinged through her lower body. Not noticing, he ushered her through the darkness to the old door, which opened easily to reveal a dingy hallway with a couple of closed wooden doors down the way. “You’ve helped on cases.”
Yeah,
