Julie Walker - Born Wild

But that was definitely jealousy Bill was feeling. Because Ace got to touch Eve, kiss Eve, comfort Eve…

And though Bill didn’t want to do those things… he didn’t! …he still remembered how good it felt when he’d been twenty-one, stupid, and horny—the most common and most dangerous trifecta amongst human males—and he had wanted to do them. And, it was a goddamned Charlie Foxtrot—otherwise known as a clusterfuck—but he missed that. There! He admitted it!

He should’ve felt better afterward.

He didn’t.

Shit.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Eve,” Mac was quick to add. “But I want to make sure I have my facts straight.”

“I’m afraid you’ll all think I’m just being paranoid or something,” Eve mumbled, studying the nails on one hand like they might hold the answer to the origins of man. Bill wasn’t going to think about the fact that her other hand was still held tightly in Ace’s. No, he wasn’t. Sonofabitch! Now he was staring at their entwined fingers. Hers were so pale and delicate compared to BKI’s resident helicopter pilot’s. “That’s what the police thought when I told them someone’s out to kill me.”

And that was enough to snap his attention away from Eve and Ace’s interlaced hands. Because those last two words had all the blood in his body rushing to his head until it was hard to hear past the pulsing roar in his ears.

Kill her? That was a damn sight more specific than her earlier declaration that someone was out to hurt her. Sonofa— Stars skipped behind his lids when he blinked, and he realized he was holding his breath. Sucking in a slow, steady gulp of oxygen, he tried to convince himself that maybe she was just being paranoid.

Yeah, perhaps it’s just a figment of her overly sheltered imagination.

Unfortunately, the part of him that’d been honed to a razor’s edge in too many high-stakes operations to count argued that, when it came to three life-threatening “accidents” in close succession, there was no such thing as paranoia.

“According to the fire marshal,” Eve explained softly, “the blaze in my apartment started when a strong breeze through my open living room window blew my curtains onto a lit candle. But, I always make sure to blow out my candles before going to bed. And I distinctly remember doing it that night. Then again, perhaps it’s possible the wick relit itself somehow, but…” She shook her head and lifted her hand to chew a hangnail.

Bill knew it for the sign of agitation it was. Sometimes, he thought he knew her too well even though they’d only spent three measly months together. Then again, there were other times he regretted the fact that he didn’t know her well enough…

Of their own accord, his eyes drifted down her slender throat, past her little pearl pendant necklace—Yes, the woman actually wore pearls. And it drove him crazy, because the jewelry was so delicate, so feminine and classy, and it reminded him of everything about her that he’d initially been attracted to, was still attracted to as a matter of fact, goddamnit— to the gentle slope of her breasts beneath her demure, pastel blouse.

Yeah, there were a lot of things about her he still didn’t know. Like the way she’d arch beneath him when he drove into her, or sigh with completion after he’d pushed her to the pinnacle of physical release, or taste when she—

Christ, man! Get a hold of yourself.

He shifted in his chair, trying to rearrange the hard-on that seemed to be part of his SOP—standard operating procedure—whenever Eve was in the same room with him. Well that, along with a heaping helping of wariness and, okay, let’s stop beating around the bush and admit he also suffered from a pretty decent amount of hurt. Yes, he was still hurt by what had happened with her. By the way it’d all happened.

There! He admitted that, too!

And why the hell his little revelations weren’t making him feel better today, he’d never know. Wasn’t honesty supposed to be the best policy, especially when it came to being honest with oneself?

Well, so far, his personal epiphanies were only piling on the shit topping to what was turning out to be a craptastically awful day. And that was just about perfect.

“What about the mugging?” Mac’s question interrupted his ill-tempered musings.

Eve stopped chewing on her nail and shrugged. It caused her breasts to press against the delicate fabric of her top until he could see the imprint of the lace along the upper edge of her bra. But he wasn’t going to stare. No, he absolutely was not going to stare.

Ace kicked him under the table, and he realized he was staring. Jesus! And what was with everybody today? Did his shins have bull’s-eyes painted on them or something?

“It was strange,” Eve admitted, unaware of the under-the-table byplay. “I worked late at the Shedd Aquarium, and as I was crossing the parking lot to my Vespa, a masked man hopped out of the bushes and pointed his gun at me.”

That was just the thing Bill needed cool his ardor. Because the thought of the girl who’d been so painfully shy it’d taken him almost three weeks just to coax a kiss from her staring down the business end of a loaded weapon was absolutely, positively terrifying.

Then she proved how far she’d come from that quiet, self-conscious young woman he’d first fallen in love with when she continued, “I told him to take my purse. I was going to throw it away, to the side, and run in the opposite direction like you’re supposed to do. But the man just stared at me, the gun shaking until it rattled. And that’s when my training kicked in, and I executed a roundhouse that knocked the weapon from his hand. I bolted for my scooter, gunned it, and didn’t look back.”

Every single thought in Bill’s head came to a screaming stop. He fancied he could hear the errrrtttt of tires squealing between his ears because…Eve? Training? Roundhouse kick?

He knew he was gaping, jaw unhinged and hanging somewhere in the vicinity of his chest, when Eve looked at him and lifted her chin. “Ever since the pirate episode, I’ve been taking personal defense classes and shooting lessons. I’ve gotten pretty good,” she boasted, though the effect was somewhat ruined when her lower lip trembled ever so slightly.

“Hot damn,” Ace whistled. “You’re one kick-ass broad, you know that?”

Eve blushed, dropping her eyes back to the surface of the table. Now that was more like the old Eve. “No,” she jerked her chin from side to side. “It was just instinct brought on by good training. I was shaking so badly by the time I made it out to Lake Shore Drive that I had to pull over. I still shake when I think back on it.”

To prove it, she held up her hand, palm down. And, sure enough, the thing was quivering like a dry leaf in a stiff breeze.

Bill felt the overwhelming urge to get up and go pound on this Dale Who-The-Fuck-Ever’s door in order to put the guy in a nice, tidy chokehold. Even if he wasn’t the person who’d jumped out of the bushes to hold a gun on Eve, the fact remained the man had stalked her and Bill needed an outlet for all the violence that was suddenly and unexpectedly coursing through his veins.

Fortunately, Mac’s cooler head prevailed. “So you don’t think this man was simply after your purse?”

Eve shook her head, then hesitated, gnawing her bottom lip—another sign of agitation Bill knew well—and shrugged. “But maybe he was, you know? Maybe that was his first robbery and what I took to be indecision about killing me was really just nerves about pulling off the heist in the first place. That’s what the police suggested. Well,” she frowned, “except Jeremy. Jeremy doesn’t buy that explanation, but what can he do about it? It’s not his case. And he’s just about gotten himself fired multiple times because he continues to hound the higher ups in the CPD to look into these incidents again.”