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“You warm enough?” Griff turned the heater on full blast. Everything under the hood was state-of-the art, but the car heater was original.
“Uh, huh.” She blew her nose and looked out her window so he couldn’t see her face in the muted light from the car dash.
She’s upset.
It had been an intense few hours even for him, but what the hell was he supposed to do to help? Emotional support was not in his repertoire and yet he needed her to be calm if he was going to keep her safe.
Crap.
He rolled his hands around the wheel. Maybe talking would stop her ruminating about the men sent to silence her with violence. Griff sighed. He should have paid more attention to Abe and his effortless charm. He was out of practice. It had been so long since he’d had a woman in his life. Perhaps too long. Time had made him rougher round the edges than he realized.
He reached over and popped open the dash. A tiny light illuminated the pack of paper handkerchiefs that had been in there since he bought the car. “There’s more here if you need them.”
“Thanks.” She broke open the packet and dabbed at her eyes.
“It’s a lot.”
She faced him, and a glance confirmed what he’d feared. Her cheeks were blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed. Jo Smith was not as tough as she made out. There was vulnerability there too.
“Everything, I mean.” He made a vague gesture with his hand. “That shit-storm back at my apartment.”
“I knew they were after me. They tracked me to my sister-in-law’s house, but the reality of it. Guns… That was…” Her voice dropped. “That was something else.” She pinned him with her gorgeous eyes. “You must be used to it. This is your bread and butter, right?” Her gaze slipped to the dark night. “How do you handle it?”
“It’s work.”
“Just work.” She huffed out a disappointed breath that irked him more than it should. Harsh realization doused him. He wanted her to like him. “Do you enjoy it?”
“My job?”
“Yes, your job.” She gave him a lop-sided smile that made his heart miss a beat.
Damn.
“I like making sure the bad guys don’t win,” he admitted.
“Me too. That’s why I went into journalism. The chance to share the underdog’s story, to expose the wrongs of the world.” She stared at her lap. “I still feel like that, but… I didn’t think it would be so hard.”
“You’re not on your own any longer. My team has your back. I have your back.”
She ducked her chin in agreement. “Still. Sometimes I wish I could let it go. Live an easier life. But it’s like it’s in my DNA, even when, like now, I’m so scared I can barely breathe. I have to let the world know, have to expose the wrongdoing.” She sighed. “I’ve never told anyone, but sometimes I wish I was different. That I didn’t care so much. Does that make me weak, that I want to be different?”
“I think it’s okay to have doubts.” Hell, he’d had enough of them when he’d gone into battle. “Doing the right thing even when it’s hard takes courage.”
The intensity of her gaze made his skin tingle. “That’s kind.” She gave a small laugh. “Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m courageous or stupid.”
“Definitely not stupid.” He gave her knee a gentle squeeze. At the connection, his stomach tightened, heated blood hammering in his ears. This wasn’t who he was. He didn’t feel desire like this. Around any woman.
He withdrew his hand. Drive, Nyland.
Moonlight glimmered on settling snow outside as he squinted into the night. This was fucking early for heavy snow. The wiper blades whispered a faint chuff-chuff noise. Sensors flashed on the dash. Ice ahead.
Griff squinted into the gloom, easing off the gas to gain greater traction. Fat flakes spun crazily toward the car. Vibration pinged through his palms, the wheel suddenly heavy and unresponsive in his hands. He hardened his grip, but the link between him and the car was gone. Power steering’s gone.
Outside, blanketing snow made it impossible to judge where the road ended and the wilds of Norway began. Lead solidified in his belly. Everything about this was so wrong. He looked after his car. The power steering didn’t just fail.
“Griff?” Jo grabbed the door handle, sensing his tension.
He grunted. “S’fine.” More warning lights flashed on the dash. Black ice. Shit.
