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For the first time since they sat down, his eyes flickered. “We, um, will have to work together. Up in each other’s grill, so to speak. Phone calls, texts, meetings, errands—it will be a much smoother ride if you trust me.”
Things with no name crawled through Vi’s stomach. He would say the dreadful T-word. Because of her own bad choices, the only man she trusted without reserve had been Daddy. “Let me think about it.” Her voice trailed into a squeak.
“Take your time. I won’t rush you.” The deep soft murmur calmed the wriggling horde inside Vi.
Wait. They were talking about business, right? Vi’s head spun. Overthinking his motives wouldn’t help. Her gut fluttered with unease.
Rory rose in a fluid motion and extended his hand. “Here. I’ll walk you to your car. It’s getting dark outside.”
Despite her conflicting feelings, Vi wouldn’t refuse an escort. Since word got out about Brenna’s abduction, everyone at Peeps had become more vigilant. Vi tossed the orange and peelings into the waste container and fell into step beside Rory. A sliver of the moon beamed through a sky striated with clouds. Shrub roses near the entrance perfumed the air with a delicate sweet fragrance.
A vehicle rumbled, red taillights glowing as it exited the parking lot. Almost to her car, Vi’s traitorous boot slid on the gravel. Twice in one evening. Could she evaporate into the asphalt? Rory kept her upright, his arm encircling her waist. At the very least, the man deserved kudos for not commenting on her clumsiness.
He released her and stood back, hands in his pockets. She fumbled with her keys, though managed to open the door without mishap.
Safely inside the car, she risked a peek at him. Darkness hid his features. He stroked his beard with his thumb and fingers.
Amusement lacing his voice, he said, “And Vi? I won’t initiate any more kisses.”
Vi’s teeth ground together. Of course, Rory would bring up what she wanted so badly to forget. She slammed the gearshift in reverse and backed out, unwilling to acknowledge the remark. She sped out of the parking lot lightning-bolt-style but peeked in her rearview mirror. Rory hadn’t moved an inch.
She braked at a red light and tapped the steering wheel with impatience. He wouldn’t initiate any more kisses. As if she might? Her conscience pinged. They both knew she’d invited the second kiss.
Waiting for the light to turn, she debated. Her place or Paige’s?
CHAPTER SIX
Rory squinted at Vi’s yellow car. He knew perfectly well his reference to their marvelous kiss would make her mad. He still needed to say it on the off chance she might want to repeat it. He snorted at the thought. Most unrealistic, given her reaction. However, her drag-racing out of the parking lot worried him. Similar to the way she’d run off Thanksgiving morning and fallen in a hole. His pulse ratcheted all over again when he remembered her feeble response to the Epi injection.
The rational side of his brain waged war against his gut. If Vi went to Paige’s, the traffic would slow her driving to normal. If she went to her place, she’d be alone in an empty house. Criminals loved out-of-the-way places.
Ignoring Vi’s probable reaction, he turned and ran for his car. Her reckless driving combined with her destination—he needed to ensure she didn’t get in trouble again. Why Vi was his business remained unclear.
Once he reached the access lane, Vi’s car turned the corner onto the road to her place. Christmas lights from local businesses blurred into a red and green haze as he whizzed down the road after her. Following her taillights, he turned onto a bumpy dirt path. He gritted his teeth, hoping his vehicle’s undercarriage would cooperate. When he saw her car parked next to the house, he exhaled with relief. Indirect light shone from a window, but nothing about the place seemed familiar in the darkness. When he’d been here previously, he’d had other concerns. Now here he’d come again, to make sure nothing worse had befallen her. He pushed aside the questions rising in his mind.
A smoky haze in the distance spun him into combat mode. Rory opened the console and slid his pistol from its holster. A strong sense of danger prickled at the back of his neck. He climbed out and stuck the gun in the waistband of his pants. What had Vi gotten herself into this time?
Locusts sang their eerie one-note song. A chill wrapped around Rory’s spine as he approached the porch. A burning scent hit his nostrils, harkening him back to Afghanistan. With stealth, he eased up the steps and opened the door without making a sound. The front room stood empty.
Then Vi yelled, “Hey!” Male voices grunted curses. Rory dashed across the living area, noisily slamming his boots against the floor. He hoped whoever had surprised Vi would suppose an entire army had arrived. Almost to the doorway, he slipped the pistol out, pointing it down.
He entered the room and quickly took stock of the situation. Hands on her hips, Vi glared at two young men. Their filthy clothes and matted hair suggested the vagrant living conditions of homeless illegals. The fear in their eyes mirrored Vi’s, but it would disappear the instant they realized she was alone—good thing he’d listened to his gut instead of his head.
Rory pointed the pistol at the men. “Necesitas irte ahora, dozd.” He held his breath, backing his order with a wave of his gun toward the door.
They scrambled out the open door, dropping boxes of food. Canned goods thudded on the floor and rolled. Rory strode through the kitchen, gazing through the window as they raced into the scrub brush.
When he turned, Vi’s blue eyes had darkened with emotion. “What …” She leaned over, steadied her hands on her knees, and inhaled deeply for a few seconds. When normal breaths returned, she lifted her gaze. “What are you—you followed me!”
A shrug lifted Rory’s shoulders, his breathing erratic. He hadn’t used a gun since deployment.
Bewilderment etching her features, Vi asked, “What did you say to them? They blasted out of here like the house had caught fire.”
“A botched-up mixture of Spanish and Farsi that made no sense.” Rory shook his head. “The gun convinced them to leave.” Frowning, he put the pistol back into his waistband. Thoughts of what could have happened haunted him.
Vi stepped over to the small dining table and plopped into a chair. Her fingers absently combed through her long, curly hair. “I guess I’m glad you showed up, but it still doesn’t explain why you followed me.” Her brows arched in a “this better be good” look.
Okay. Not ready to process two strangers in her house, so he’d deal with the fallout from his remark about the kiss. He sought a chair and settled into it, not as controlled or nimble as he preferred. The immediate relief in his right leg made it worth the nick to his pride.
