Evil to the Max by Jasmine Haynes Page B

waited until she’d backed out of her parking spot and started down the street before answering. “I never even thought about it.”
    “Liar. You’ve obsessed about it for the last hour.” Cameron was so good at plucking the thoughts right out of her head and voicing them with the elegance of a silver-tongued trial attorney. Which was, of course, what he’d been in life.
    He always tried to win with words, but she was stubborn as hell. Okay, so she had been thinking about those recurring Witt dreams, but she wouldn’t admit it to anyone. “I didn’t have time to obsess about anything.”
    He ignored the lie. “And you never even turned on that cellular phone Witt gave you so he could call you.”
    “I forgot I had it.”
    He laughed, the sound whisked away as she sped through a light.
    “I only have it for emergencies.”
    “Why do you bother lying to me, Max? I know everything you’re thinking, everything you’re feeling.”
    “I hate that. I really hate that.” She took the ramp too fast and ended up an inch shy of an SUV merging onto the freeway at forty-five miles an hour.
    Cameron whispered against her ear. “You like him. You admire him. You’re attracted to him. You dream about his Ram truck—and nice things that go ram in the night.”
    “That’s Tiffany.” She punched the gas and zipped into the fast lane, damn glad she was going in the non-commute direction.
    “That’s you , Max. You just don’t want to admit it. And slow down. You drive like a maniac when you’re upset.”
    “I’m not upset,” she growled as she flew past a BMW jockeying for her lane.
    “Fine. I’ll stop begging you to control your speed. You’ll have an accident, then haunt me until I say it was my fault.”
    “You’re already outta here. I can’t haunt you .” But she willed her blood pressure back down and let her foot up, her speed dropping to a reasonable level. The Beamer whizzed by. The driver honked and gave her the one-finger salute. She returned it with a smile.
    “You’re going to miss the exit.”
    She squeaked and looked over her shoulder to find a hole in the traffic wide enough to slip into the slow lane. She managed to wedge herself between two Dodge Rams. Her spirits continued to climb. The exit dumped into a four-lane road. Three blocks down, she found the street name she wanted and turned onto a tree-lined residential street occupied by rows of attractive wood-sided apartments.
    “Why don’t we go to Nadine and Tiffany’s first?”
    “I already know where Tiffany is. I’m looking for Jake. Isn’t that what you wanted when you told me to write down her old address?”
    He snorted. “You’re just afraid of Tiffany.”
    “Don’t start again, Cameron.” She was tired of the argument. Why couldn’t he for once roll with her instead of against her?
    “I can, my sweet. I do. I just ask the questions you’re afraid of.”
    She didn’t deny it. What would be the point? “Well, cool your jets. Okay?”
    “For now,” he crooned. “Not forever.”
    She’d rather have had forever. Better yet, she’d rather have had their life back the way it used to be. The three-bedroom condo in the Belmont hills, the quiet Sunday afternoons spent on the leather sofa in front of the fire or hands entwined in a darkened movie theater, and the short, decadent, surprise vacations to exotic places. Cameron had rarely strung more than four days away from the District Attorney’s office, but they were worth every moment.
    And there was, well, yeah, the kinky things they did, like that night at the restaurant when he’d put his hand through the slit in her skirt and his fingers straight up inside her.
    “I can still touch you in your dreams, sweetheart.”
    It was more than most people got when fate tore their lives apart. The ache, however, would never ease completely.
    Turning into a short driveway, she edged into the first parking space farthest from the buildings. She didn’t need to pull out the