investigators there soon to search her townhouse. And then the allegations would start flying out of the chute, and the rodeo would begin. She just needed to stay on the horse until she met up with Porter. And when did I start thinking in cowboy analogies? Since the sexy cowboy sitting in the passenger seat had walked back into her life and jump-started feelings she never knew existed.
Allowing A.J. to go with her wasn’t the best idea. But he hadn’t given her much of a choice, and there was a dangerous hitman out there somewhere, so maybe she could use the help until her meeting Friday.
A.J. would demand answers at some point, but she’d need to carefully consider how much to divulge. Her promised silence about this classified assignment had practically been signed in blood on those non-disclosure agreements.
“Hey, you okay?” A.J. asked softly. He placed a hand on her arm as she clutched the wheel tightly with both hands. “You’re shaking. I never thought I’d see that reaction from you.”
Goose bumps pebbled her skin beneath his palm.
She relaxed her jaw at the realization she was biting down on her back teeth and forced a nod.
He gave her arm a light squeeze before letting go.
“Blindly trusting someone like this is a new thing for me.” And oh my God, I looked at him with stars in my eyes and bit my lip earlier. What was up with that?
Distraction, sure. But feelings? It made no sense.
“I get that. Trusting people ain’t exactly easy for me, either. Not outside my circle. But here I am doing it for you.”
She stole a brief look at him. “You run in a pretty tight circle, I assume?”
“Not much choice in my line of work,” he said with a light tone, “you know, Avenger and all.”
She graced him with a small smile. It was a nice reprieve from the jittery sensation that had filled her with dread moments ago. “Right.”
“But, um, on a scale of one to ten, how much of a fool did I make of myself on that drunken slash bump-on-the-head phone call?”
“Oh, an eleven, for sure.” She didn’t have to look at him to know there was a grin on his face. Probably a wickedly sexy one, too. “I would’ve loved to play it for you, but I had to delete it tonight. Can’t risk anyone knowing about our connection.”
He cursed, then grabbed his phone from the center console and jabbed a finger at the lit screen. It took her a second to grasp what he was doing, but then it registered. She wanted to kick herself for not thinking of mentioning it earlier. It wasn’t like her to overlook details like that. “Hey, Harper, can you delete the record of my call to Quinn on Saturday?” He said a few more words, then hung up. “They may pull your records.”
“May?” She smiled. “Oh, they’ll pull my records as soon as they realize I’m gone.” Standard operating procedure.
“But let’s get back to the ‘Anastasia Quinn saved A.J. Hawkins’ voicemail message’ thing.” Oh jeez, he actually sounded proud.
“I didn’t save it.” She shrugged. “Just didn’t delete it. Well, until our road trip.”
Road trip. What an odd choice of words. Porter was out there somewhere, and hopefully he was safe, but he needed her. And she was sitting here talking about a voicemail. A rambling, drunken voicemail from a guy telling her he had a crush on her. Could this be any more like high school? Well, like high school in the shows she’d seen on TV since she’d been homeschooled.
What else would they talk about, though? She wasn’t sure if or when she’d share the truth, so maybe small talk was all they had. No talk. How about that?
“Mmhm.” A touch of cocky floated through the sound he made.
“You sure we should stop in Roanoke and not drive straight through?” If she were more focused on driving, then maybe she wouldn’t be distracted by the zing of chills that’d been wrapped around her body from the moment they were on the road. She was well aware of the source of that zing, too. They were trapped in this SUV together, so there was no escaping his powerful male presence.
“It’s near midnight. I think you’ve had a jam-packed night already, considering only three hours ago you discharged your weapon in your boss’s house, so I’m thinking driving straight to Alabama isn’t the best idea, even if we take turns. We’ll be fine at a hotel.”