The bastard had called me a bitch and didn’t even realize he was insulting me. I opened my mouth to let him have it when reality smacked me. Wait a minute. He accepted my reason for being there. Oh. So many women sought out Aiden, it was normal. I should’ve felt relief. Not so much.
“Devlin,” the guy bellowed. “Get out here.”
Wait. Did I really want to see Aiden? I tried to keep my expression calm. What had I been thinking? I’d just wanted to do a drive-by. That’s all. What was wrong with me?
“What?” Aiden snapped, appearing out of the farthest garage. He wore ripped jeans and a dark T-shirt, sans the cut. His thick hair curled around his ears, a smudge of grease decorated his very muscled left bicep, and a dented wrench looked at home in his hand. He turned his head and stopped short, his blue eyes blazing through the day.
A couple of guys inside the other garages looked up from their various vehicles.
“Company,” the guy next to me said, amusement heavy in his tone. “Not your usual type.”
Usual type? What did that mean?
Aiden’s expression didn’t change, but he muttered something that didn’t sound complimentary. Then he turned and moved toward me. A lot of guys strutted, or walked, or just ambled. Not Aiden. He prowled. Everything inside me wanted to jump back in the Fiat and peel out. But his gaze, that hot and deep ocean blue gaze, pinned me in place.
Butterflies on meth crackled through my abdomen with a shocking heat.
By the tense angle of his jaw, he wasn’t happy to see me. He arrived, and the scent of male, oil, and leather came with him.
“Gonna introduce us?” the first guy asked.
“Anna, Spider. Spider, Anna,” Aiden said shortly, his gaze not leaving mine. “Somethin’ wrong with your car?”
Numbly, I shook my head.
“Good. Get in.” He gestured toward the open door and crossed back around to slide into the passenger seat. The entire car lowered with his bulk. He tossed the wrench to Spider, who easily caught it. “This might take an hour.” Then his gaze raked me, but unlike with his buddy, tingles exploded all over my body. “Or maybe two,” he said lazily.
Fire slashed into my cheeks, but I settled into the car and drove quickly out of the lot, ignoring his friend’s chuckle behind us.
It took me several miles to find my voice as I drove even further north, not sure where I was heading. “Was that really necessary?”
Aiden remained silent, taking up too much room in the small car, his gaze on the old buildings turning to wheat fields. I drove for about a half an hour, my mind spinning. The stalks soon blanketed us on both sides, waving softly in the slight wind.
I swallowed. Was silence a good thing? Probably not. I cut a glance at him sideways. In profile, he looked just as tough as face on, but the angles were sharper. More defined and somehow deadly. He was the best-looking guy I’d ever seen in real life, and part of that was a danger stamped across his features that went beyond roguish. A fierceness that was hard to quantify and uncomfortable to feel but too intriguing to ignore. “Aiden?”
He nodded toward a dirt cutout. “Pull over.”
My lungs compressed fast and hard. I didn’t know this guy. It had been twelve years since we’d breathed the same air, and there was a lifetime of experiences we hadn’t shared. All I knew about him was that he’d been charged with a felony and was a member in a drug-running motorcycle club. But that couldn’t be right. I pulled the car over, and dust blew up behind us.
“Jesus.” He was out of the car in one smooth motion of pure maleness, slamming the door.
I had less than a second to pull away and leave him, but I shut off the ignition instead.
“What the holy fuck are you doing?” he bellowed, throwing both arms out. He’d been sitting there stewing for the entire drive?
I blinked. Frightened by my week so far and now faced with his temper, mine just up and exploded. “My fucking job,” I yelled back, jumping out of the car and shoving the door closed. This was all just too much. “You have a problem with that?”
He stared at me across the convertible, wheat behind him and an empty road behind me. “Your job?” His voice lowered, deepened. “You’ve been a prosecutor for a lousy month, Anna. You shouldn’t have