A Perfect Storm
Page 37

But if he didn’t—
The bathroom door opened in a rush, shattering his thoughts. Hair wet, wearing only snug, low-riding jeans and a ribbed camisole, Arizona stepped back into the bedroom. Judging by her expression and stomping stride, she’d had no problem collecting herself.
Sighing, Spencer sat up. Through the thin material of her top, he could see every curve of her br**sts and the plump outline of her ni**les. His mouth went dry.
She stopped beside the bed, her hands on her hips. “All right, Spencer, some ground rules.”
He looked up at her angry face. “Number one, you stay with me.”
Her open mouth snapped shut. After blinking twice, she shook her head. “No, number one is that you back off a little.”
“We made a deal,” he reminded her.
Anger left her cheeks a dusky rose. “I wasn’t talking about that. I was talking about you following me—”
“Overruled.” Glad that she wasn’t protesting his kiss, he stood, crowding into the narrow space she’d allotted between the bed and her body. “You either stay with me, or I wash my hands of the whole thing and you can deal with the dynamic trio instead.”
She stared at him, and her mouth twitched. “Dynamic trio?”
Keeping his attention off her chest was a trial. “Whatever you want to call them. You know they’ll be hovering over you way worse than I do.”
“Yeah.” She chewed the side of her mouth. “They’ll smother me.”
And he was counting on her to hate that. “Exactly.”
She propped a hand on the nightstand, drummed her fingers. “You’d actually do that to me?”
“To ensure you stayed safe?” He’d move heaven and earth. “In a heartbeat.”
She drummed some more. “They’re going to be on top of things now anyway.”
He wouldn’t lie to her by denying that. “But if you allow me to shadow you, they’ll be in the background, not breathing down your neck. Take today, for instance. If Trace hadn’t known that I would follow you, one of them would have. And you’d be having a whole different conversation right about now.”
The drumming stopped. “With no kissing.”
Had she enjoyed it? Or was she still fighting her reactions? “Given that two of them are married and the other engaged, probably not.”
She laughed. “Probably not?”
“They’re good men, honorable men,” Spencer admitted. There was no question of that. But when it came to Arizona… He shrugged. “You’re hard to resist.”
She eyed him up and down—and took a step back. “Jackson resisted me just fine.”
God, he did not want to hear this again. Why did she keep bringing it up? Was she infatuated with Jackson beyond the platonic? Thinking that left him churning with a dangerous mix of emotions. “Let’s stick to the point. To make things simpler on me and on yourself, you need to stay with me until we sort things out at the bar.”
Pacing away, she appeared to think about it. “Your couch is comfortable.”
“I told you that you could use the guest room.”
Her shoulder lifted. “You don’t want me on the couch?”
Now what was this about? Spencer crossed his arms. “I don’t mind if you sleep there, but why would you want to when you can set up your own room? You can make yourself at home in there.” And in case she worried about it, he added, “While you’re with me, I won’t push you to do anything you don’t want to do—except kiss me when you curse.”
She shot him a dirty look. “I won’t slip up again.”
“I’ll give you as much freedom as I can. I’ll stay out of your hair. But if you go anywhere, I need to know. No more running off by yourself. Period.”
She paced again, head down, hands on hips. When she returned to him, she nodded. “All right, fine.”
He launched into the next demand. “Make no plans without me. None. We’re either working together on this, or we’re not working at all.”
“Sure, fine. Ditto back atcha.”
Being reasonable? Doubtful, so he didn’t bother to commit himself to the same rule. “Tell me why you have so many weapons in your trunk.”
Without missing a beat, she said, “I like to live.”
That blunt answer threw him. “You need a shovel to live?”
Her chin lifted. “You know why I need that.”
Yes, he probably did, but he badly wanted to be wrong. “Enlighten me.”
“If I have to kill anyone, I’ll need to bury them.”
Oh, God. Spencer dropped back to sit on the bed. He shouldn’t have asked.
Arizona, damn her, laughed. “Oh, lighten up, Spence. I was just funnin’ ya.”
“Funning me?” Anger stirred as he glared at her. “You think it’s funny to joke about murder?”
“Sometimes, yeah. Depends on the murder victim, right?” She strolled around the room like a caged tiger. “I carry the shovel for lots of reasons. In case I get my car stuck in mud, in case I have to use my knife and need to hide it.” She shrugged. “It’s an all-purpose, handy tool.”
Skeptical, he said, “You don’t plan to kill anyone?”
“Didn’t say that.” Her face went carefully blank. “If someone needs killing, if I need to defend myself or someone else—”