camera in the bathroom? So much had happened since then it felt like a lifetime ago.
“I’m going to check the first floor. Stay here.” He pinned her with his tough guy glare.
Sierra delivered a salute in response to Rick’s order. “Yes, sir.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up before he reached out and adjusted the angle of the hand she held over her right brow. “It’s more like this. I’ll be right back.”
She watched as he made his way to the back of the house and into a kitchen area divided from the living room by an island. Glancing down, she evaluated his duffle bag and its contents one more time and drew in a breath.
What was she supposed to do for clothes or other basic necessities like a toothbrush? It was pretty obvious Rick’s packing had consisted of raiding some armory somewhere.
Roger might have been right when he said it was likely GAPS was staffed by former military. These guys probably had all served in some branch of service, at least for a couple of years. Long enough to get the scary gun-toting dude look down pat.
Rick reappeared in the room, interrupting her ponderings. “First floor is clear.”
“Oh, well, thank God for that.” She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of his search for bugs or bombs or whatever else.
She doubted her stalker’s reach extended to a shack they’d rented only hours prior, located on an island accessible only by boat.
He ignored her sarcasm and headed toward the staircase. “I’m going upstairs. “Don’t—”
“Don’t move. I know. I got it.” She made sure the fact she was humoring him while mocking him was apparent in her tone.
She did, however, resist the urge to remind him that any bad guy could easily bust through the front door and grab her from the very spot he’d ordered her to remain.
He was already up the staircase so he wouldn’t have heard anyway. The man’s legs were so damn long, he took the stairs two at a time.
Rick was back again in a moment. “Clear.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Of course, it was. Hey, do you think there’s a nail place on the island? I need a mani/pedi.”
He lifted his brows high. “You’re not going out for a mani/pedi.”
“But—“
“No. I’ll paint your damn nails if you need but no going out.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“I’ve done it before.”
“Why? You a cross-dresser?” Given the size of him, that was a ridiculous image.
“No. I used to build models when I was younger. Painting is painting. Doesn’t matter if it’s the fine detail work on the 1965 Cobra, or your little piggies. I used to polish my high school girlfriend’s toes all the time.”
This day just got weirder as time passed. “Never mind. I’ll survive.”
“Good. I’m getting the rest of the stuff out of the car.”
“There’s more stuff?”
“Yeah. A cooler full of food so we don’t have to go out and your suitcase and carry-on.”
Her eyes widened. “My suitcase? How did you get that? When?”
“We were already packing you up to move to another hotel. Jon brought your stuff over while you were being questioned at the police station. Same time I stocked up on food.”
That made sense but one thing didn’t. “When did you, you know, arm up?”
“Arm up? Where’d you get that term from? Some script?” He lifted his brows high. When she scowled at him all he did was laugh. “Darci brought me my things from home.”
“You have all that . . . stuff lying around your house?” She eyed the bag of weaponry.
“Not lying around. In a secure gun safe with a lock. I gave Darci the combination.” He paused, keeping his focus on her. “You have a problem with guns?”
“No. I was just wondering.”
“Good.” He drew in a breath and looked around. “It’s not so bad here you know.”
“No? It looks like the furniture is from 1979.” She hadn’t lived through the seventies but she’d seen enough TV shows and movies set then to know this place fit the bill for
“I’m going to check the first floor. Stay here.” He pinned her with his tough guy glare.
Sierra delivered a salute in response to Rick’s order. “Yes, sir.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up before he reached out and adjusted the angle of the hand she held over her right brow. “It’s more like this. I’ll be right back.”
She watched as he made his way to the back of the house and into a kitchen area divided from the living room by an island. Glancing down, she evaluated his duffle bag and its contents one more time and drew in a breath.
What was she supposed to do for clothes or other basic necessities like a toothbrush? It was pretty obvious Rick’s packing had consisted of raiding some armory somewhere.
Roger might have been right when he said it was likely GAPS was staffed by former military. These guys probably had all served in some branch of service, at least for a couple of years. Long enough to get the scary gun-toting dude look down pat.
Rick reappeared in the room, interrupting her ponderings. “First floor is clear.”
“Oh, well, thank God for that.” She rolled her eyes at the ridiculousness of his search for bugs or bombs or whatever else.
She doubted her stalker’s reach extended to a shack they’d rented only hours prior, located on an island accessible only by boat.
He ignored her sarcasm and headed toward the staircase. “I’m going upstairs. “Don’t—”
“Don’t move. I know. I got it.” She made sure the fact she was humoring him while mocking him was apparent in her tone.
She did, however, resist the urge to remind him that any bad guy could easily bust through the front door and grab her from the very spot he’d ordered her to remain.
He was already up the staircase so he wouldn’t have heard anyway. The man’s legs were so damn long, he took the stairs two at a time.
Rick was back again in a moment. “Clear.”
She rolled her eyes again. “Of course, it was. Hey, do you think there’s a nail place on the island? I need a mani/pedi.”
He lifted his brows high. “You’re not going out for a mani/pedi.”
“But—“
“No. I’ll paint your damn nails if you need but no going out.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“I’ve done it before.”
“Why? You a cross-dresser?” Given the size of him, that was a ridiculous image.
“No. I used to build models when I was younger. Painting is painting. Doesn’t matter if it’s the fine detail work on the 1965 Cobra, or your little piggies. I used to polish my high school girlfriend’s toes all the time.”
This day just got weirder as time passed. “Never mind. I’ll survive.”
“Good. I’m getting the rest of the stuff out of the car.”
“There’s more stuff?”
“Yeah. A cooler full of food so we don’t have to go out and your suitcase and carry-on.”
Her eyes widened. “My suitcase? How did you get that? When?”
“We were already packing you up to move to another hotel. Jon brought your stuff over while you were being questioned at the police station. Same time I stocked up on food.”
That made sense but one thing didn’t. “When did you, you know, arm up?”
“Arm up? Where’d you get that term from? Some script?” He lifted his brows high. When she scowled at him all he did was laugh. “Darci brought me my things from home.”
“You have all that . . . stuff lying around your house?” She eyed the bag of weaponry.
“Not lying around. In a secure gun safe with a lock. I gave Darci the combination.” He paused, keeping his focus on her. “You have a problem with guns?”
“No. I was just wondering.”
“Good.” He drew in a breath and looked around. “It’s not so bad here you know.”
“No? It looks like the furniture is from 1979.” She hadn’t lived through the seventies but she’d seen enough TV shows and movies set then to know this place fit the bill for
Similar Books
