okay,” he said. “But we can’t wait here long. Can you keep going?”
He expected Meredith to protest, or to ask for more time, but she squeezed his hand and said, “Ten feet behind us, there’s a pickup truck, and five feet from that, there’s a sandwich board. If we can make it there, we can get to an alley, and I think I can find a way out from that point.”
Sam nodded, impressed by her fortitude. “On three, then.”
She met his eyes. “One.”
“Two,” he replied.
She opened her mouth, but three never made it out because a not-too-far-off shout and the pounding of feet on pavement announced they’d run out of time. Sam moved to pull away from the mailbox, but this time, Meredith was quicker. She held fast to his fingers, dragging him along as she shot out into the street. Sam let her lead, marking their stops.
Pickup truck. Check.
Bizarrely large sandwich board. Check.
One alley. Two alleys. Then three. Triple check.
At the end of the fourth one, they burst out of the apartment-lined streets and into a lower-density area. Duplexes and one-story homes. Tidier lawns. Evidence of children in the form of bikes and colorful sprinklers. They paused for just a moment at the end of a pebbled driveway, breathing heavily, but Meredith wasn’t done pulling him along.
“C’mon,” she urged.
Sam complied, placing his trust in her ability to guide them out. The flash of her Converse sneakers—black-white, black-white, black-white—kept him moving, and her soft hand in his kept him motivated. She led him through the neighborhood at a barely manageable jog, not stopping until they’d put even more distance between themselves and their pursuers.
“Just a bit farther,” she gasped. “And you’ll owe me one.”
“Are we keeping tabs?”
“Definitely.”
“Then we’re three to one.”
“One to two and half.”
Sam managed a smile. “All right. I can compromise.”
They pushed onward, and in a matter of blocks, they reached an area devoid of broken-down cars and replete with uniformly emerald lawns.
“Here,” Meredith said at last. “In this area, one gunshot here will bring out every neighbor and six police cars.” Then she let out a laugh. “Who knows? Maybe they’ll see us and call the cops.”
Not if I can help it. Sam felt his pocket to confirm the camera was still there.
Out loud, he agreed, his own voice ragged with exertion, “Perfect.”
“What now?”
“We call my friend and ask for some help. But first...”
“But first what?”
“This.”
Sam took a breath and took a chance because he might never get another opportunity. He broke his number-one rule—never get personally involved in with an investigation—and grabbed Meredith by the waist. Her green eyes widened, then shut as he dragged her body against his own and closed his mouth on her lush lips.
Coherent thought flew from Meredith’s brain as Sam kissed her. His exploration was almost tentative at first. Gentle. But as soon as she lifted her arms to his shoulders, welcoming the attention, the kiss deepened, and Sam’s exploration grew more demanding. He tasted the corners of her mouth with his tongue, probing firmly.
Then his hand lifted to the small of her back, and Meredith gasped at the contact. He took advantage, delving between her lips. And each time his tongue found a new spot, Meredith’s desire spiraled higher. In mere moments, a fan of heat radiated through her. It was hottest at the points where Sam’s body touched hers directly. Their mouths. The tips of his fingers under the back of her T-shirt. The brush of his cheek on her chin. But where it was most distracting was at the points where she wanted to be touched.
Everywhere, she thought. I want him to touch me everywhere.
Except he was already pulling away, already giving her lip a final, light tug and putting a few inches of space between them.
“Meredith...” He spoke her name in a low, sexy rumble and ran his thumb along her jaw. “I’m not going to apologize for that.”
Apologize?
She stared at him wordlessly. She seemed to be having a hard time catching her breath. And it had nothing to do with their frantic escape. Not that she would fully trust her voice anyway. She’d never, not in all her twenty-seven years, been kissed like that. Never felt such a strong attraction to a man after such a short time. Maybe never at all. She didn’t know if the adrenaline really was heightening things, or if it was just Sam. All she knew was that the last thing she wanted was an apology. But she couldn’t make the words come.
After a silent minute, Sam sighed and pulled a slim black phone from his pocket. He keyed in a set of numbers, then carried on a monosyllabic conversation before turning his attention back to Meredith.
“Worm’s on his way.”
She finally found her voice. “Worm?”
“A guy I trust when I can’t trust anyone else.”
“Why can’t you trust anyone?” Meredith’s forehead creased with worry.
He met her eyes. “The less I tell you, the safer you are.”
“Then I must be the safest person on the planet, because you haven’t told me anything.”
“Meredith.” His voice was flat. Totally at odds with the kiss he’d just given her.
Fine. We can both do that.
“Tell me why you showed up at my door this morning,” Meredith said, just as evenly. “And tell me why you’re looking for Tamara. I think I’ve been patient for long enough.”
A smile tipped up one corner of Sam’s mouth. “This is you being patient?”
Meredith narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t going to let herself be charmed.
“Tell me, or I swear I won’t go another step with you. I’ll walk up to one of these big houses and knock on the front door and tell them I need to call 911,” she warned.
He shot her a glare, but when she took a step toward the closest driveway, he relented.
“I’m a private investigator, Meredith. Someone—a client of your sister’s—hired me to look in on Tamara.”
“Why?”
“I’m breaking the terms of my contract by telling
