A Perfect Storm
Page 50

“My funds are limited, remember? Especially right now. I mean, Jackson tries to overpay me for doing a little computer work, but…” She shuddered. “I detest taking charity.”
“It’s not—”
“Yeah, it is,” she insisted, “no matter how Jackson denies it. But since I haven’t held up any dealers lately—”
“Jesus, I hope not.” He hadn’t even considered the possibility. “If you even think of—”
“You’re not my boss,” she interjected, “and I haven’t been focused on gambling. So…” She held up her hands, philosophical about her meager possessions. “I have the basic necessities. More than enough to get by.”
Later he’d deal with the idea of her mugging criminals. For now, he wanted to talk about the few bags she kept in her trunk. “What about clothes?”
“You haven’t seen me running around naked, have you?”
A clear visual struck his beleaguered brain. No, but I want to. Out of self-preservation, he cut to the chase. “What you have in the trunk and in your overnight bag…is that all you own?”
“Sheesh, get rid of the long face, will you? I keep things simple for a reason.”
“Being?”
“When you have things, property that’s important to you, then someone can take it away.”
Damn, but that was a sad attitude. “No photos? No jewelry?”
“Yeah, right. Photos of what?” She touched the hoop in her earlobe. “I have a few pairs of earrings, some bracelets and stuff that I wear when I’m working. Otherwise, that stuff just gets in my way.”
Working. God, he’d never get used to her thinking in those terms. “So you don’t care about fashion?”
That earned an honest laugh. “Do I look like a fashion plate to you? I have enough clothes that I don’t have to do laundry every day. And once I get their attention in this getup, I can revert back to my more comfortable duds. Anything more just takes up space and ties me down.”
So many times, in so many ways, she broke his heart without even trying. He pulled up to the curb. He hated to say it but knew she wouldn’t turn back now. “The bus stop is around the corner, two blocks down.”
She undid her seat belt. “I’ll find it.”
Unable to help himself, Spencer caught her arm. Her bare skin was silky soft, warm. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“You got it.”
He was far from reassured. “Don’t forget that I’ll be watching. Don’t go anywhere that I can’t see you.”
A huff of exasperation. “That’s a given.”
And still he couldn’t make himself let her go. “Dare will ghost you to the bus stop, then follow along until you get off the bus near the bar.”
“If that’s what he wants to do, I’m okay with it.” She reached for the door handle. “I sort of figured he’d do something like that anyway. In some ways, he, Trace and Jackson are pretty predictable.”
Was she disappointed that Jackson hadn’t come along tonight instead? Spencer shook his head, refusing to let his mind go there right now. “The bus lets you out right by the Green Goose.”
“I know. I scoped out the area myself.”
“I have all of Dare’s codes. If you see me check my phone, you know something is going on. Remember, if this plan goes off the rails—”
“Spencer, I promise. I’ll be good. I’ll pay attention. I’ll stay out of danger.”
He rubbed his thumb over her meager biceps. “I really hate this.”
After an indulgent look, Arizona released the door handle and settled back in her seat. “Know what?”
Had she finally come to her senses? “What?”
She took out her gum, placed it back in the wrapper and put it in the ashtray again.
Then, before Spencer realized her intent, she turned to him, braced her hands on his shoulders and leaned in to brush a kiss over his mouth.
Everything male within him froze before going red-hot. Not grabbing her close was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. He settled his hands on her narrow waist and relished her freely given affection. “It’s not too late—”
“Shh.” Against his lips, she whispered, “Keep your powder dry, Spence. It’s going to be fine.” She kissed him again, a light butterfly kiss, and then she pulled away. “You have my word.”
* * *
SITTING IN HIS TRUCK stewing, Spencer watched the entrance to the bar. Arizona should be showing up shortly.
He hated this.
Not once had he seen Dare, so he put in a quick call to the number given him.
Dare Macintosh answered on the first ring. “Problem?”
Spencer stared down the street, but the bus didn’t show. “Do you see her?”
“Of course.” There was a moment of silence, and then, half under his breath, Dare said, “She’d be hard to miss.”
“I know.” Spencer rubbed his forehead. “The outfit wasn’t my idea, believe me.”
“Not sure we can blame the clothes. On another woman, that skirt and top would be no big deal. On Arizona, it spells a lot of trouble.”
Suffering his own twinge of jealousy, Spencer growled, “I know.”
“Do you?” Dare went right to the point. “You’re going to have your hands full tonight. I suggest you get yourself together.”