Southern Comfort - Natasha Madison Page 0,55

My mouth opens, and Derek just laughs as he walks out. I, of course, have no idea what to do, so I follow him also, and I step into what can only be described as a new dimension.

The room is dim and almost black. Screens fill all the walls from top to bottom. In the middle of the room sits Casey, his hands going nuts over the keyboard as five screens sit on the desk in front of him. “What are you doing?”

“What he does best,” Derek says, snickering beside me with a smile on his face. “Fucking shit up.”

Seeing him in this role is so much different; at the farm, he’s a dirty cowboy with a smirk that’ll make you weak in the knees. Here behind a desk, with his hands going a million miles a minute as his eyes work, it’s so much more intense. “Okay,” he says, “I found him going in by the front door and then taking off from the side and …” He turns some of the screens. “To this parked car.”

“He knew you were gone and weren’t coming back,” Derek says. “He would have to know.”

“That or he trailed me, saw me get on the plane, and then came back,” Casey says. “Either way, he’s in my house.”

“Did you take care of that message?” Casey says, and Derek nods. “Perfect. I’m going to go check into the hotel,” he says, getting up. “I also put a bug on all the feeds in the prison.”

“Is that legal?” I ask them, and they both share a look.

“I’ll keep an eye on it,” Derek says, then looks back at me. “Do you have a phone on you?” he asks me, and I nod, taking it out of my pocket.

“This can also be how they know where she is.” He looks at Casey. “I’m going to see what is in here.” He looks at me. “Are there any nude pictures on here?”

I roll my eyes while Casey growls, grabbing my hand. “Call me if you find anything,” he tells him, and we walk out. “You don’t have nudes on there, do you?” he asks, and I push him away from me. We take the elevator down, and this time, he gets into the driver’s side. I look over at him when I buckle myself into the passenger side.

“Is this yours?” I ask him, and he just smirks at me. “You know, one of these days, that smirk isn’t going to make my stomach flutter,” I say the words, and just like that, I want to kick myself.

“I make your stomach flutter?” he says the words so soft, and I want to slap my hand over my mouth.

“No,” I say, trying to cover it up. “I meant to say that your smirk isn’t …” I try to think of the words at this point, any word, and when he laughs, I just glare at him. “Shut up.”

He leans over, and right before he kisses me, he whispers, “Good to know I’m not the only one falling.” My breath hitches as he slips his tongue in with mine. His hands come to my face as he tilts his head and takes the kiss deeper.

“Casey,” I whisper when he finally lets me go, and I want to say that I’m not falling for him, that I can’t fall for him, and he definitely can’t fall for me. But that would be crazy. It would be insane, it would be the phone ringing that makes my thoughts go out the window.

“Hello?” he says, and Derek’s voice fills the truck.

“Did you get far?” he asks, and it sounds like he’s out of breath.

“We are in the parking garage,” Casey says, and I look over at him.

“Her phone was a hot target,” he says, and Casey looks at me. “It’s got tracking; it’s got everything that a stalker would put it in.”

“Did you know?” I just look at him shocked.

“How would I know that I have a tracker in my phone?” I shriek out. “Who would put a tracker on my phone?”

“I’m going to go out on a limb right now and say Dominic,” Derek says, and then Casey punches the steering wheel.

“I should have known,” he says, looking at me. “I was.” He shakes his head. “What else did you find?”

“The hot spot was being tracked to someone else. I’m in the middle of dissecting it,” he says. “I’ll let you know what else I find. But, Casey, if he put one