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I nodded and pulled him toward customs. We held on to one another until we had to hand over our passports.
A little part of my heart began thawing behind the iron bars I’d encased it in all those years ago.
Half an hour later, we’d cleared customs and headed out to where a driver waited. Greer spoke to him in Spanish and gave him the address of where we needed to go.
“I’m surprised you didn’t rent a car,” I said, slipping into the back seat next to him.
“We just need a ride to where we’re staying. We’ll get one when we need it.”
The driver pulled out of the parking space and headed toward the main road.
“A word of caution for you,” he said, looking over at me. “If my memory serves me correctly, you like fast cars and pushing the envelope. Hence the call sign.”
I scoffed at his memory and rolled my eyes behind my glasses.
“So, if you drive while we’re here, it’s imperative that you don’t speed and always keep your eyes on the road.” He leaned closer to me and motioned me to follow. “The drivers here are aggressive, and if you get stopped, you’ll be paying a hefty fine to the police officer.”
I shifted toward him. “I know how to handle aggression.”
Greer sighed, then moved back. “Yes, I am aware, Daredevil.”
“Good. Babe.”
He sighed. “If you keep saying it like that, no one is going to believe we’re together.”
I smiled. “Like what? How do I say it?” I knew exactly how I was saying it.
“I don’t know, but it’s not pleasant.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. “I’ll try to do it better.”
“Thank you.”
Before we landed, we’d come to a tentative agreement on how things would work. I would play the attentive boyfriend. If I put my hostility aside, I could probably win an Oscar for my performance, because I wouldn’t have to act. But that would tank my revenge plan, and I wasn’t sure how much I cared about it anymore.
I took in the epic beauty around us as Greer started typing on his phone. We passed through a small town that offered bars, restaurants, and grocery stores.
“Do I have my own room?”
Glancing at him, my dick went to full mast. The fucker was wearing reading glasses again and looked at me over the rim. God damn, he was sexy. “I’ve already explained this to you, sweetheart. We’re boyfriends. We sleep together and you hog the covers.”
I scoffed, trying to think of anything but how damn hot he was with those dark-rimmed glasses and graying beard. “That’s a lie. I run hot as fuck, and never sleep under the sheets.”
Greer raised his brows. “Okay, good to know.”
“And naked,” I added for effect. “I sleep naked. Not one stitch of clothing.” I never slept naked. Couldn’t stand for my balls to be all loose and flopping around.
He stared at me, then took off his glasses. He bit down on the arm, then slid his gaze down my body to my crotch. I put my hands over my junk as if I could shield it from him.
“I see you objectifying me over there, Mr. Rowan.”
He laughed. “Just sizing you up, Lieutenant Wentworth. And it won’t be a problem for you if I sleep in the buff?”
I shook my head, looking out the window as he drove. “Nope,” I said, popping the p. “Not one problem.”
I was such a liar, and I had to force myself not to look at him for a moment.
As we rode along the scenic twisty road toward the coast, it occurred to me we didn’t have an origin story.
