Hitman's Captive: A Bad Boy Romance (36 page)

Argh.
One summer. That was it - all I had to survive, and then I’d be done. Irritating
stepbrother consigned to a few holiday days a year, if he even bothered to make
them...with his job, there would be no guarantee even if he did want to.

Agreeing
to this trip was probably a mistake, but I couldn’t help the spring in my step
as came back down, dressed in a casual t-shirt and shorts now. I was
enthusiastic at the thought of a change of scenery, and with the endless
possibilities I was now researching, everything seemed so much more optimistic.
The past with Seth was just that - the past, and I was too excited for the
future to dwell on it too much.

Pausing
at the foot of the stairs, I turned for the front entrance and penned a quick
note to my father on the side-table there.

Out with Seth, may be late for dinner.

Love you, A.

Then I
headed out the door towards the gravel section of the entrance that usually
held Seth’s truck. My eyes took a moment to adjust to the bright summer sun
again, which is the only explanation I had for the way they settled on his
tall, built body leaning casually against the side of it, arms folded and one
ankle tucked around the other showcasing his muscles and outlining the groin.
Even my breath catching at that sight couldn’t disturb the happiness bubbling
up in my chest while I made my way over, shooting him a grin.

“Posing
for me?”

He
shifted out of that unconscious stance with a puzzled glance as I moved around
to the passenger side.

“Huh?”

“You
look like you could be on the cover of some all-male masculinity magazine, up
against the truck like that.”

“Yeah,
I think the ‘magazine’ part probably defeats that…”

He
stepped behind me as I opened the door, and before I could question it, his
strong hands were on my hips while I stepped up into the high truck, steadying
my ascent. Heat blossomed under his fingers as they caressed the top of my
shorts, shooting straight to my center before I managed to slip out of his
grasp. I turned back with a glare to see his almost-innocent smile undermined
by the dangerous flash of his gray eyes.

“Seth…”

“Thought
you needed a hand, babe. It’s a big truck.”

“And
you were suddenly overcome with consideration? Sure you’re feeling alright,
babe
?”

The
height of the seat compensated somewhat for the difference between us but being
able to meet his gaze evenly didn’t help with the way I was hyper aware of his
hand resting dangerously close, his large body blocking the doorway,
simultaneously sheltering and enclosing me in a way I feared I liked too much.

“I’ve
always known what you needed, Bella.”

For a
second, I considered calling the whole thing quits as something in me seized at
those words - but then his expression relaxed and the casual smile he offered
took the deeper meaning away from it. It didn’t quite stop my heart from
skipping a beat as he withdrew and closed the door, my head thumping back
against the seat again. This was a stupid game to be playing, but the banter
between us was as second-nature as the irritation and heat, and we’d always had
fun with it before. I was done flaying myself for that mistake years ago - it was
over, and if I wanted to give our parents a chance, we needed to reinvent that
relationship. Which wasn’t going to work so well if I jumped every time he made
a jab in that direction.

It’s
okay - you’re living your own life now. And if he wants to help with that, even
better.

He
settled into the seat next to me and we buckled up as the engine hummed to life
under us.

The
cab of the truck wasn’t small, but his large presence seemed to fill it easily -
and it was obviously kept neat, even with the wear and rough use it had seen. A
wooden eagle dangled from the rear-view mirror, probably some kind of good luck
charm, and I settled into the seat as he started towards the driveway.

Then
we were off, my mind still trying to work out whether I should be going along
at all.

“So,
San Francisco, huh? Well, with any luck we’ll miss another awkward dinner.”

The
words surprised a laugh out of me, and I leaned forward to fiddle with the
radio.

“It’s
not that bad…”

He
raised an eyebrow and I admitted to myself I’d thought the exact same thing
often enough.

“Okay,
maybe—hey!”

His
strong fingers wrapped around my wrist, my pulse beating against him for a
moment as he moved it back to my seat and turned the radio to the original
station.

“My
truck, my rules, baby.”

A
familiar pop-song came on and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh
c’mon, you can’t want this station. They play every song to death - I must’ve
heard this at least a hundred times by now.”

He
gave me an amused glance and a quick shake of his head.

“Not
me - I got back a couple weeks ago. I get to catch up on all the music everyone
is sick to death of.”

That
made me pause - his life as a SEAL was really something I knew nothing about, and
there were probably dozens of implications I hadn’t considered. It reminded me
yet again that three years was a long time - I wasn’t sure I’d changed all that
much, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t. Giving a mock-sigh, I relented.

“Fine,
but if they play this one more than a couple of times, I’m going to start
singing along - and then you’ll have to change to something I don’t know.”

He
grinned.

“Yeah,
they didn’t cover that in interrogation resistance training…”

I
returned the smile but my stomach flipped at the casual comment, and I wasn’t
sure I was quite prepared to hear about the kind of life he led. I let the
banter drop off as he navigated his way through the city, the light music
providing a nice backdrop to the warm sun glinting down, despite my initial
objections.

When
we turned onto the interstate he ramped the truck up, the mostly empty scenery
rolling past at a crazy speed while he weaved easily between lanes and cars. My
eyes lingered on him, as they had done more often than I would have liked the
last few days, admiring the strength he handled the vehicle with and the way
his powerful presence dominated the not-insignificant space of the cab. My
curiosity got the better of me a few moments later and I couldn’t resist asking
the question that had been on my mind all week.

“So,
what do you think, then?”

He
grunted as I drew him out of wherever his thoughts had been, looking over at me
with a question.

“About
our parents, I mean.”

His
face closed off the way I’d seen it do so many times and he just shrugged.

“Not
much.”

I
waited a moment, until it became obvious that was all he was going to say.

“You
don’t think much of them being together?”

“No, I
just don’t think about them.”

The tension
in his shoulders said otherwise and I bit back the sudden flare of irritation
at his evasion. He didn’t owe me an explanation, or a blow-by-blow of what he
felt, but somehow it hurt that he was shutting me out the same way he did with
everyone else. Which was irrational, but…I’d never been my most rational around
him. I gave up with a shrug, chiding myself for the interest.

“Alright.”

There
were a few minutes of silence, punctuated only by the swinging of the vehicle
from lane to lane - it occurred to me I should probably try to reign in his
nonchalance towards speed limits, but the blur outside the window had suddenly
become appealing. Finally, when I’d almost forgotten the awkwardness, he sighed
and shrugged against some of the tension, appearing to make a decision.

“It’s
just not worth thinking about, you know? I’ve seen this song-and-dance before,
never ends well. No point getting invested in it, one way or the other.”

I
wasn’t expecting that
,
but then as I thought about what I knew of his
childhood, I realized that while this might be a major intrusion into my life,
Seth had deliberately built his so that it couldn’t disturb him.

“Cora’s
been married before?”

“Engaged…married…yeah.”

As
much as I’d felt ambivalent about the whole thing, concern for my father
flickered through me.

“You
think their marriage isn’t going to work out?”

My
tone had him turning towards me for a moment, his eyes flicking between the
road and my expression. He cocked his head, seeming surprised.

“You
want it to?”

“Of
course I do! He’s my father.”

That
should have been explanation enough, but he considered it for a few quiet
moments, and I couldn’t help feeling he was judging me for that viewpoint.

“Do
you not?”

He
just shrugged again, and I guessed I wasn’t going to get much more.

What
was more worrying was the idea that Cora had been engaged or married so often
that Seth didn’t seem to consider it worth anything. I wondered whether my
father knew - he had to, right? He’d know what he was getting into, he was
sensible that way. I bit my bottom lip as I considered it, wanting to ask Seth
more about all that but not having a clue how to phrase it in a way that
wouldn’t give offense.

My
expression must have given my thoughts away - either that or the drumming of my
fingers on the side of the door - because he kept looking over at me, and
eventually sighed again.

“You
really care, huh?”

I
managed not to glare at him. Why was that so difficult to understand?

“My
father deserves a chance to be happy, and he’s a good guy. Do you really
not
care?”

“I
never saw you as all that keen on the whole thing.”

“That’s
not really the point - it’s not about me. Whatever I might think…I wouldn’t
want it to go badly for them.”

He was
silent for another few moments before reaching out to cup my chin, tilting my
head back to meet his eyes. I wanted to bristle at the uninvited touch, but
having his strong hand there brought back his mouth coming down over mine, the
memory of the passion that had always followed that demanding touch heating my
blood instinctively. His eyes glanced away from me every few moments to check
the road, but even so I eyed his one hand on the wheel warily. If it hadn’t
been that our speed had slowed back to something resembling normal, and there
seemed to be no other cars around, I would have probably freaked out at him to
pay attention to the road.

One
finger stroked my cheek with unexpected gentleness and I fought the instinct to
lean into that hand as he gave me the reassurance I hadn’t quite managed to ask
for.

“If it
helps, I do think this time is different.”

His
hand shifted up to touch the hair tied back in a ponytail before his fingers
trailed down my neck and withdrew, leaving me with a shiver of sensation that
had me biting my lip for another reason entirely. He turned his attention fully
back to the road and I brought myself out of the semi-daze.

“What
do you mean?”

One
side of his mouth half-curved into a smile and he shook his head as he glanced
over at me.

“God,
you’re never satisfied, are you?”

“What?”

“You can’t
just take something as it is, hmm? You have to know why, and how, and talk it
half to death first.”

I
could have been insulted, but his eyes were sparkling as he looked over at me,
a fond exasperation that made me shake my head back.

“Taking
you at face value has never seemed a good idea.”

He
snorted in response.

“Ahh,
baby, I’m as direct as they come.”

That
was certainly
something I remembered well - and even when it came to our relationship, it had
been me that had read far too much into it. He’d always claimed it didn’t mean
anything…

Except
that one time.

I
shrugged the thought away, happy that the mood had lightened and unwilling to
compromise that with the constant playback of memories that were better
untouched. I turned back to him, but he’d lapsed into silence again and I
couldn’t quite let the original question go.

“You’re
really not going to say anything else?”

A grin
spread over his face and he laughed.

“Sure,
baby. I was just waiting to see if you’d ask again. Point proven.”

Prick.

But my
mouth was quirking in a smile, and I didn’t really object to his comments - it
had always been better to understand and judge for myself, even if the endless
questions drove him crazy. And we still had a couple of hours left in the car,
it would be damn boring if
neither
of us attempted conversation.