to Felicity.
“Thanks.” Deciding this would be a good time to freshen up, she stood up. “I’m going upstairs.”
Westley hurried to her side as she headed to the staircase. She leveled him with a pointed look. “I don’t need you hovering.”
He raised his hands. “My bad.”
She couldn’t resist touching a hand to his chest. “You’re a good man, Westley James.”
His blue eyes darkened with something that made her pulse skip. She jerked her hand back and fled upstairs before she gave in to the dangerous urge to kiss him.
* * *
It took all of Westley’s self-control not to chase her upstairs and tug her into his arms and kiss her. He’d seen the yearning on her pretty face and felt the answering longing deep inside of himself. If they’d been alone...
Wow. He was in so much trouble.
Kissing Felicity would be...amazing. Not to mention reckless.
And knowing that she’d felt it, too, sent joy soaring through him. He quickly wrestled the wayward attraction into a far corner where it wouldn’t see the light of day again. Or at least where he could pretend it didn’t exist.
He had to keep his head and his heart on the path before him. Logically, he understood his emotions were heightened from nearly losing her. They were both running on intensified feelings that had no place in their world.
Linc’s rumbling laughter tightened Westley’s shoulder muscles. A flush of embarrassment heated his face. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so... He wasn’t even sure what the term for it was. Vulnerable? Out of control?
Calming his racing emotions, he turned to face his friend. “What are you chuckling about?”
“You.” He gestured to the stairs with his chin. “And her.”
“I have no idea what you mean.” Westley walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of tap water. He drank it as though he’d been stranded in the desert. The cool liquid helped to center his thoughts. His job was to protect Felicity, not pant after her like a lovesick teen. “Help me throw out every scrap of food in the house. I don’t know what else might have been tampered with and I won’t take any chances with her life.”
“Why don’t we have the crime-scene techs test everything?”
“It will be more expedient to just clear out the cupboards and fridge, then start over with sealed goods.”
“Why would Boyd Sullivan put poison in her food?” Linc shook his head. “It doesn’t fit.”
Westley contemplated telling Linc about Agent Monroe’s murder. Not that he didn’t trust his friend, but Westley decided it would be best to keep that information in a close circle. Less chance to tip off the murderer that way.
“Do you think you two should even stay here?” Linc asked.
“I don’t know if she’ll leave.” Westley spread his hands. “Besides, where would we go?” It occurred to him he’d automatically included himself. But for now they were a package deal. Until the threat to her life was neutralized, he wasn’t leaving her side.
“There’s base housing near the command center.”
“I’ll talk to her about it.” He tossed a box of cereal into the garbage can. “How is the investigation coming? I assume Sullivan hasn’t been found or I’d have heard.”
“Unfortunately, we’re no closer to catching him than we were yesterday. But we do have a lead.”
That comment raised the hair at his nape. “What do you mean?”
“Someone is revealing information about the investigation to an anonymous blogger. Information that we haven’t made public and weren’t intending to.”
“That sounds dangerous.” Westley thought for a moment. “Could it be one of the base reporters? They’ve been sniffing around, asking questions, showing up everywhere.”
Linc shrugged. “Maybe. Whoever the person is revealed that Zoe Sullivan visited her half brother just two weeks before his escape. Very few people knew that bit of info. Now the base is speculating she’s helping her brother.”
“Do you think she is?”
“I’m not sure, but I’m keeping an eye on her. She’s cagey. Something’s definitely up with her. Frankly, I don’t trust anyone related by blood or friendship to Boyd Sullivan.”
“I don’t blame you there,” Westley said. “Although innocent until proven guilty.”
“Right.” Linc checked his watch. “Hey, I have to go. Zoe’s teaching a class and it ends soon. We can’t have her walking around base unattended.”
“Be careful,” Westley told him.
Felicity stepped into the kitchen, blocking Linc’s path, and looked at Westley. “What are you two doing?”
Westley paused with a bag of spaghetti hovering over the garbage can. She looked so pretty wearing jeans and a long-sleeve button-down top in a kelly green that deepened the color of her eyes. She’d twisted her hair at the back of her head, exposing the creamy column of her neck. But it was her eyes that caught his attention, eyes that sparked a warning he was beginning to know—and appreciate—well.
“Getting rid of any more potential hazards to your health,” he stated and dropped the spaghetti into the garbage.
“I guess that’s the best thing to do.” She reached up to finger the key hanging around her neck.
Linc peered closer at the key. “You ride?”
“Ride what?” she asked.
He pointed at the key dangling from the chain. “That’s a key to a BMW 2-series motorcycle. Vintage. Probably late sixties.”
“Are you sure?” Westley exchanged a glance with Felicity. The hit-and-run her father had been investigating involved a motorcycle. Could they have the key to the one that hit the pedestrian? Literally the key to a big chunk of the mystery?
“Yes.” Linc shrugged. “I like motorcycles. Do you have the bike? It would be worth some money. A collector’s item.”
She tucked the key inside her blouse. “No. Just a memento.”
“Ah. Well, I’m outta here.” He shook Westley’s hand. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“We will.” Westley walked him to the living room door. “Thanks, man.”
As soon as the door closed behind Linc, Felicity said, “Did you hear that?” Anticipation echoed in her tone.
“Let’s not get too hopeful,” he said. “Even if that is the key to the motorcycle that your father was investigating, we still have no clue where it could be stashed.”
“True.
