Julie Walker - Born Wild

But in this case, she was well-schooled on Johnny Depp’s Captain Jack lingo because after having been held hostage by Somali pirates, Becky’d thought it would be a hoot to hold a Pirates of the Caribbean movie marathon—complete with eye patches, fake parrots, and little chocolates in the shape of gold coins. So Eve could “who drank all the rum?” and “I’ve got a jar of dirt!” right along with the best of them.

Of course, not even good ol’ Johnny Depp could bring more than a short-lived smile to her lips right then because the fact remained that she was in danger. Maybe imminent danger. She gnawed on her bottom lip during the too-short elevator ride to the bottom floor. Then, after they’d shuffled across the well-appointed lobby, it was time for the show. Or maybe the show down was the better way to put it.

Oh geez. Oh geez…

She repeated the mantra like a pathetic prayer when they edged out the front door as a unit, Jeremy and Billy creating a wall of living flesh in front of her. She instinctively grabbed the back of Billy’s waistband, hooking her fingers into a belt loop and marveling at the warmth of him, at the sheer strength of the muscles in his lower back as they bunched with his steps and brushed across her knuckles. It was the first time she’d touched him in months. And, okay, so she could admit she’d missed his nearness waayyy more than she should have, especially considering how things stood between them. But she could also admit that while the sensation of his hard flesh against the back of her hand was titillating, it was also comforting. Giving her the strength to keep from faltering as they crossed the street to the parked Hummer.

“Get ready to open the door, Eve,” Billy instructed quietly once they’d made it to the vehicle. He and Jeremy body-blocked her from the suspicious SUV’s direct line of sight. Then, a chirp-chirp emanated from the big Hummer, and she knew he’d unlocked the door and disarmed the alarm system with the key fob in the hand that wasn’t snaked behind his hip, palming the handgun he kept hidden there. Gulp. “Okay, now jump on in there, and don’t be shy about it.”

She wished she could say she hopped-to without hesitation. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. For some reason she couldn’t explain, maybe it was momentary panic or a bout of fleeting hysteria or…the fact that she didn’t want to let go of Billy and the comfort his nearness provided, but she froze. For just a second. But it was long enough for Billy turn to her, his expression so soft, the light in his eyes so warm that she almost forgot how precarious her situation was and melted into a puddle of hormonal slop right there on the pavement.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he crooned in a low voice, the endearment jolting her like a shock from an electric eel. “Go ahead and hop in.”

It took a second more for her to snap out of her trance— I really am a sad sack, aren’t I?— but then she hurried to do as she was instructed. Heaving open the heavy door and jumping up into the mammoth vehicle, she quickly tossed her bags onto the back seat. The heat inside the Hummer had sweat popping out all over her skin and trickling in an itchy line between her breasts, but that was nothing compared to the fire in her heart.

Sweetheart… Oh, how she’d loved to hear that word on his lips that summer and—

For the love of all that’s holy, pull your head out of your butt! Someone might be waiting back there to kill you!

Okay, and that was the voice of sanity yanking her from her reverie. And, yep, perhaps she should listen to it.

Shaking her head at herself, she watched as Billy skirted the front of the vehicle before wrenching open the driver’s side door and hopping inside, bringing with him the smell of sunshine, leather, Irish Spring soap, and man.

Before she had a chance to utter one word, he leaned over, yanked her seatbelt tight across her lap and started the big engine. Throwing the monster vehicle into gear, he slowly— slowly? —pulled out onto Jeremy’s street as adrenaline coursed through her system, making her brain fizz. At the stop light on the corner, she swiveled in her seat and tried to peer out the heavily tinted back window to see behind them. But there was something strapped there. Narrowing her eyes against the dimness of the hot interior, she wondered if that was a….? Yep, that was most definitely a gun rack. A gun rack with two short-barreled shotguns attached to it.

Double gulp.

Facing forward once again, she scooted down in her seat to try to use the side rearview to see—

“You’re gonna give yourself whiplash if you keep flopping around like that,” Billy commented, cool as can be over there, which only managed to redline her own anxiety.

“Is it behind us? That black Chevy? Is it following us?” she asked breathlessly. The air conditioner was blowing full blast on her heated cheeks, but it did little to mitigate the stagnant air inside the Hummer.

“Indeed it is,” Bill said like one might say indeed the sun is shining .

What the huh? How could he remain so unruffled when there was a mysterious black SUV following them? Possibly being driven by the very person who’d been trying to eighty-six her for months?

Oh yeah, because he did this sort of thing for a living. Which was the whole reason why she’d run to him in the first place.

Okay Eve, she coached herself, taking a deep, cleansing breath, get it under control. You’re in good hands.

And just the thought had her glancing over at the steering wheel, where Bill’s broad, tan hands handled the huge Hummer as gently and as easily as a little girl handles a puppy.

She’d always loved his hands. So big, so…capable looking. With long, knobby fingers, square nail beds, and tough calluses, his hands had always made her feel safe, secure… protected . Looking at them now reminded her of the first time he kissed her…

They’d just come back from a day on the water where she’d taught him how to captain the little Daysailer her father had given her for her eighteenth birthday. She’d been feeling awfully proud of herself for having instructed the big, handsome petty officer on anything. But after they’d stepped off the boat and onto the dock and he’d turned to her? You better believe she’d known by the look in his eyes that her time as teacher was over. His expression had clearly conveyed that he had a thing or two to show her.

And, boy, oh boy, had he ever…

Even now she could recall the exact feel of his broad, callused palms cupping her cheeks, remember the sensation of his rough thumb hooked gently beneath her jaw, guiding her head this way and that as his tongue learned the secrets of her mouth, licked and laved and sucked until she forgot her own name and—

“Calm down, Eve,” Billy instructed, and she realized not only was she staring at his hands, she was also panting like she’d just surfaced from a skin dive. “This vehicle is armored and the glass is bulletproof. You’re safe in here.”

And curses! There she’d gone again. Completely forgetting the critical nature of her situation because she was overcome by a combination of painfully hot memories and Billy’s nearness.

Sheesh . Too much more of that, and she should seriously consider getting her head examined. Maybe that launch into the air back at the marina and the resultant splashdown in Lake Michigan had flash-frozen her gray matter.

“That’s not—” She abruptly stopped herself and shook her head. “I’m fine. I just don’t understand why you’re not trying to lose them?” They were creeping along at a snail’s pace, like they were out taking a flippin’ Sunday drive as opposed to trying to shake the person tailing them. “Do you need me to drive?”