Stepbrother Thief (24 page)

A melancholy sigh slides past my lips, but I shake off the feeling as I drop the designer jumpsuit to the floor, the wide legs falling right over my pumps like they did in the SUV. I kick them off anyway, so I can put the jeans on.

They're a perfect fit.

Hmm.

It's hard enough to find well-fitting jeans for myself, let alone some that were purchased for me without my knowledge.
Holy crap.
Gill's infamous perception skills apparently extend to my body—and knowing it intimately through a single glance. He had to have grabbed these before today, before we had sex. He just … knew how they'd slide over my hips and cup my ass in perfect blue denim.

“I didn't want to leave you,” Gill says and my heart skips several beats, thinking he's bringing up
that
day again. But he's not. Silly me. “If I went in the men's room and then came out to find that Karl's guys had already grabbed you …” I watch as his fists curl with imagined rage. Even
thinking
about it is setting him off. I half expect a snarl to tear from his throat. Instead, Gill shakes his head and drops his slacks, giving me a perfect shot of his ass in the black briefs he's wearing.

I turn away and stare at the wall until I hear him rustling around in the bag again. He drops a pair of … fucking flip-flops in front of me and dons a pair of his own, stuffing our other clothes and shoes into the massive purse and giving it back to me.

“Can you put your hair in a ponytail?” he asks, handing over a hair tie he must've gotten from the bag. “You'd be surprised at how much a different hairstyle can throw someone off.”

“No wigs?” I ask, looking up into his blue eyes as I collect my shoulder length locks into a ponytail and snap the band over it all.

“Unless it's a good wig, a really good one, and it's cut just right for your head, it looks like a wig. And wigs draw attention. Best to stick with your real hair.” He reaches over and brushes some of mine back before steeling his expression, like he's pushing away tender thoughts. I feel a chill creep up my spine. Gill turns away and grabs the shoulder holster he's flung across the toilet, slipping it back on, both guns still firmly locked in place, and then throws a black North Face jacket over it all. Praise the heavens for letting big, bulky purses be the norm in fashion right now. “Let's go.”

Gill opens the door and saunters right past a woman and two little girls, both of them around Solène's age, without batting an eye.

“We're in Seattle,” I tell them as I follow after, “gender is fluid.”

The older woman snaps her mouth closed as I breeze out of the bathroom and stand next to Gill, who's smiling so widely and brightly that he doesn't even look like the same man from a few minutes ago.

“So, honey, where to now?” he asks, tucking his hands in his pockets and glancing over at me.

Take yourself there, Regina, and let yourself believe it. If you do, then so will they.
That's what Gill told me when I asked why we had to start the heist off with a gun to my head. It's all about acting like you know who you are and what you're doing and convincing everybody else that that's the truth.

“Actually, I'm a little beat. You want to get out of here? I'd like to go back to the hotel and watch
Netflix
on my laptop.” I give him an overwrought smile, letting it stretch across my face.

“I was hoping to have a beer at the Athenian,” he says, checking his watch and then shrugging. “But I guess we can do that tomorrow? We have a whole two days left in Seattle.”

“Don't forget about the Space Needle!” I say with false enthusiasm. Gill chuckles and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me in close and tucking me against him. I fit there like I was made for it. And I hate that. And I love it.
Shit.
“Am I overdoing it?” I ask and he chuckles, the sound vibrating through me, straight to my cold, bare toes.

“A little, but that's what I like about you. Better to achieve more than less.”

“In reality, I just hate tourists. When I pretend to be one, my inherent ire leaks out of my pores.” Gill laughs again, the sound genuine and real, old school Gilleon. It makes my heart hurt.

“We're going to head into the parking garage. A bit risky, but there should still be plenty of people to provide some cover.” I nod and let him lead me across the Skybridge with its teal metal walls and massive windows looking out over the street and the stream of silver rain cascading down to the pavement below.

“Where did we park again?” I ask, letting my brows wrinkle up and tapping a finger against my lips. Gill glances over at me with a smile and then freezes, like he's seen something he wishes he hadn't. Without a word, his hand flies out and grabs my wrist, yanking me against his chest. He cups the back of my head and kisses me, sliding his tongue deep.

I take the opportunity to enjoy being undercover. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be able to kiss him like this, taste him and hold him and pretend for one easy fucking second that we really are a couple dressed in silly tourist duds, exploring a new city and worrying only about what restaurant we're going to eat at for breakfast in the morning. I wanted that with Gill, desperately.

I like being with him, even now. No. No. I
love
being with him.

The realization hits me like a shock wave, making me tighten my grip on his neck, press deeper into the kiss. It can't come true, can never be real again, because I won't let it. You don't get hurt as badly as I do and walk away without a limp. I can never forget what Gill did to me, to Solène. If I let myself really love him again, really and truly, I could never trust him. And what's love without trust? It's like a skyscraper with no foundation. Sure, it can touch the sky, but even a small gust of wind can knock it over.

Doesn't stop me from gnawing on his lower lip, inhaling hard each time our lips break and then touch again, leaning my body as close to his as I can get it.

“Regi,” he whispers as his hands knead my hips through my jeans, his fingertips brushing a bare bit of skin between the cotton of the T-shirt and the blue denim. I slide my tongue across Gill's teeth, tasting him, absorbing him with my mouth. “Regi,” he says again, a bite of wry amusement in his voice. “They're gone.”

I pull back with a start, blinking away my emotions with a few bats of my eyelashes, praying that Gill won't realize what I was doing.
Please attribute what I just did to overacting,
I think at him, knowing full well that he's already picking up on my feelings. Even if he's not showing it at the moment, he knows. He always knows.

The barriers I've erected to keep myself safe seem to have holes in them.

I'll have to figure out a way to repair them—and fast. If Gill really is trying to get back together with me, then he'll pursue my heart with the intensity of a cat stalking its prey. And if he knows I miss him, that I still love him, then he'll never let me walk away.

I take a deep breath as Gill wraps his hand around mine, his eyes scanning the parking garage with that laser sharp gaze of his. He keeps an easy smile on his face while he does it, pretending to search for our car, but his eyes … they stay cold and clinical as he pauses next to a white minivan and slides a key from his pocket.

I don't wait for instructions, moving over to the passenger side and grabbing the handle as soon as he unlocks it. Unhurriedly, Gill starts the engine, checks the rearview, and reverses out of the space.

I don't let out an easy breathe until we pull out of the parking garage.

I won't say that I'm
happy
about sharing a hotel room with Gill, but it is what it is. We're here; we're not going back to the house; there are two beds.
Thank God.
In all the best romance movies, there's always that silly tussle when one of the two characters sharing a room realizes that there's only a single bed and hilarity ensues. And sometimes sex does, too. I don't intend for either of those things to be a part of my evening, but I do appreciate the fact that Gilleon didn't make any assumptions about us.

“You sure you're not worried?” Gill asks, tilting his head to the side and looking at me with unabashed curiosity. His blue eyes are lit from within, sparking with the flame of the hunt, the thrill of adrenaline, the grit of a challenge; Gill likes challenges. Loves them, maybe.
And that could be all I really am to him—a challenge. One of few single women he couldn't get to look his way if he wanted them to.
Hmm. “The heist didn't seem to set you off, the shooting, this.” He gestures around at the room and then sits down heavy on the bed next to me. The mattress dips towards his large frame and our thighs bump together, sending a thrill of energy through my body.

How ridiculous.

I'm in my thirties. I don't need electric pulses and fireworks and butterflies, definitely not quickies in the front seats of SUVs. I don't need any man really, but if I were going to look for one, I'd be aiming for one I could trust. I can't trust Gill anymore—not with my heart. But I can trust him with this.

“I'm not worried because I know you wouldn't leave your dad to die at the hands of merciless criminals.” I force a tight smile to my face. “And I know you wouldn't leave your daughter either.” My voice gets really soft when I say that, too soft. Gill looks at me and we stare into each other's eyes for a long, long moment.

Daughter.

That's a weird word for me to say. I don't even usually let myself think it. I feel like a failure as a mother, like I should've stepped up and given Solène everything I could give
and
everything that Gill should've given. But I couldn't, and I didn't, and that's okay. I've made peace with that. But this …

“I can't believe I have a daughter,” Gill says, and then looks away. I glance down at his fingers, at the dark whorls of tattoos as he curls his fingertips into the white comforter. I'm not sure how to respond to that, so I don't. I keep on going with the previous conversation.

“If you say that Karl won't hit your house, I believe you. What I'd like to know is
why.
”

Gill sighs and stands up, the mattress evening out as his weight lifts off it, giving me some very sudden and explicit memories of nights spent in bed with this man. I almost wish that was all he'd ever been to me—good sex. Great sex. The
best
sex. If that was it, I could walk away right now and forget he ever existed. But it's not. It's the soft half smile on his face when he turns to look at me, the way his eyes seem to shift to different shades of blue depending on his mood, the simple fact that he gives a shit about what I have to say. Gill never just let me talk; he listened.

“I have so much to say, and not all of it's good,” he admits, shrugging off the North Face jacket and tossing it on his bed. Carefully, he slips off the shoulder holster and lays that down, too.

“Start with this,” I say, gesturing at the hotel room, the guns. “Tell me who Karl is and why he hasn't reported a hundred million in stolen jewelry to the authorities.”

Gill sucks in a breath and rakes his fingers through his hair.

“Do you want to take a swim first?” he asks, and I raise an eyebrow.

“A swim?”

Gill tosses a wry smile my way.

“In the indoor pool? I have a lot of … energy that I want to blow off,” he says, shaking out his hands, and neither of us misses the unspoken joke that lingers unsaid in the air.
There are other ways to blow off energy than in the pool.
“I've got a massive adrenaline rush and no bad guys to take down.”

“Can I stay here?” I ask, knowing the answer to that question.

“We should be safe here for tonight, but I can't risk it. I promised I'd get you through this safely, and I will. Especially since this entire situation is my fault.” Gill whispers this last part under his breath.
I want that secret,
I think, hoping I won't have to pry it out of him. “Come sit in a chair by the pool? You don't even have to get in. I'll swim a few laps and then we'll order room service.”

I cross my legs at the knee and lean back, supporting my body weight with my arms. I'm wearing a tourist T-shirt with fish on it, dirty panties, and I've got filthy feet from splashing through the puddles in the parking lot while wearing flip-flops. But when Gill looks at me like he's doing right now, I feel like the sexiest woman alive, like my body's waking up from a long, long sleep and it's
ravenous.

I breathe in deep and lean my head back, closing my eyes for a moment.

“Okay,” I say before I let my thoughts run away with me. Honestly, I could use a few more minutes to collect myself before Gill and I have yet another 'talk'. That's all we seem to be doing lately—having serious discussions. I kind of feel like I should just sit him down and we should play Parcheesi or something. “But on the way back to the room, I'm going to stop by the front desk and grab some playing cards from the gift shop. We need to do something normal, Gill.”

“Something that doesn't involve jewelry heists, heartbreaking familial revelations, or wild and crazy bareback sex?”