Living Dangerously (19 page)

Abbey unlocked the door to the garage and after one step in, they both stopped. Instead of the garage door, huge plywood planks covered the opening. Black, singed wood showed where the heat and fire had burned the wood at the mouth of the garage. Debris was strewn everywhere. Clearing the garage might take longer than she’d thought.

“Fuck,” Blake muttered. “That was a real car bomb.”

“No kidding,” Abbey breathed. It was completely surreal that someone was trying to kill her boss. The fact that they’d nearly succeeded multiple times sent a chill down her back.

Between the two of them, it took almost twenty minutes to clean the mess and move the bins and miscellaneous boxes to the back of the garage. The workers showed up a few minutes early, and Abbey and Blake went back into the house.

“I guess you can go,” Abbey told him. “No reason to stick around.”

Blake looked out to the two guys taking down the plywood, plus the two construction workers unloading the wood for the new garage frame and the other two guys removing the garage door panels from the truck. His gaze landed on her. “I’ll wait.”

“I’m fine,” Abbey insisted.

Blake grinned, and it was the sexy grin he’d hit her with in the elevator. “You are that,” he said.

She felt her cheeks heat. “I’m serious. You don’t need to stick around.”

“I know I don’t need to. I want to.”

“Don’t you have a life to get back to? Something that you had to cancel because Troy told you to come here?”

He didn’t answer her. He just gazed into her eyes and made it hard for her to form a sentence. In fact, the longer he stared at her the harder it got to think at all.

“He must be a pretty good friend for you to drop everything and show up here at the drop of a hat.”

Blake took a sip of the ice water in front of him and Abbey needed the reprieve from his gorgeous blue eyes. “Troy’s a good guy. Have you met him?”

Shaking her head, Abbey doodled on the notepad near the answering machine, which also had no phone in the base.
Ugh
.
Julie
! “Nope. Never met him.”

Blake took the pen out of her hand and moved the pad toward himself. He very neatly printed something on the page, tore it off and slid it in front of her. “My information. Again,” he said. “Don’t make me wait another six weeks. Don’t make me wait six
hours
.” He didn’t bat an eyelash as a half grin curved his lips. “I know how to find you now. And I will if I have to.”

Chapter Sixteen

By late morning of day two, Julie slammed Ari’s script closed and stretched. This screenplay had her itchy in all the right places. The love scenes were detailed and hot. She’d forgotten just how hot. Or maybe she was just more in tune with good sex after the other night. Just what she needed, to be hornier than hell with a man who didn’t seem to want to do anything about it. She made an executive decision. She planned on pulling answers out of this man’s mouth no matter how long it took and since she had sex on the brain...

“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

His double take in the rearview mirror might have made her laugh if she’d been in the mood, but she instantly regretted the personal question. Sometimes her mouth ran ahead of her brain.

“What?” he asked.

Oh, hell. May as well shoot for the finish line since she was already out of the blocks. “Quit stalling. You heard me.” She shifted her extended leg and felt the pull in the stitches as she leaned forward in between the front seats. His clean aftershave wafted up her nose and she took a long covert whiff. God, he smelled good, but she wouldn’t let that detour her. “You’re funny, smart.”
You
smell
like
sex
on
a
stick
. “You dive in front of bullets. Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”

He opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again. “I don’t know. Why don’t you have a boyfriend?” He passed a string of cars on the right and ate up the road like a monster.

Touché. “Even though I asked you first, I will answer you honestly. There is a lot of baggage that goes with dating me. When I’m working, my hours are brutal, and when I’m not working, the press is brutal. Your turn.”

He shrugged a broad shoulder as he hit the left blinker and passed a slow-moving semi. “We have crazy hours in common. I’m at the mercy of my boss’s schedule. Most women don’t want to put up with that.” A faint nod accompanied his next words. “And it’s possible I can be a little closed off, which also tends to drive a stake into a relationship.”

Interesting that he recognized the problem. “If you know you’re closed off, why don’t you do something about it?”

He huffed, almost a laugh, but not quite as he eased into the right lane. “I guess old habits die hard. Besides—” she barely heard him and had to learn even farther forward, “—maybe I don’t know how to change.”

Her heart melted in a pool of empathy. What had happened to this brave man to make him so introverted? They were nearly polar opposites in that respect. “Did your past girlfriends try to change you?” She already knew the answer.

“I don’t know that they tried to change me. I think they wanted something I couldn’t give.”

She knew how that worked. She’d tried to get back into the dating pool after Lucas, and the first guy she’d taken seriously enough to let into her bed had dumped her because she hadn’t been adventurous enough in the sack. Not that she planned to reveal
that
bit about herself to Troy. “Sounds like you tend to keep things casual.” A giant fishing expedition on her part.

He knew it too, because his lips quirked up and turned his face from handsome to killer sexy. “In the past, yes. But life keeps throwing surprises my way and I’d be stupid to ignore a good thing when it’s in front of me.”

Not
if
, but
when
. So was he talking about her? Did she call his bluff or was it too early? Maybe it was time to sneak out of this conversation while she still had her dignity. “I thought I’d take a break from my script if you want to put a CD in. Sorry again about the quiet. But if music is on or television is playing, I can’t concentrate on the words in front of me.”

“It’s okay.” He reached into the console, pulled out a CD holder and handed it to her. “Here. Pick whatever you want. Hope there’s something you like.” He eased back into the right-hand lane.

She loved his hands. Large, capable, short, neat nails. Lucas had been a nail shredder, and finding bits of his fingernails under tables and by the bed had grossed her out.

Julie forced her gaze from Troy’s hands to his music collection. The newest Seger Hughes CD caught her attention, and she pulled out the disk and handed it forward. “I didn’t peg you as a Seger Hughes fan.”

Troy took the CD and eased it in the player. “His old songs were a little obnoxious, but I really like his new stuff. Much more my style.” So he didn’t like hard driving rock and roll, but he did like alternative rock with some mellow acoustic.

“Personally, I’m one of his diehard fans. He could sing my grocery list and I’d be like ‘woo-hoo, go Seger!’ I meant to pick this up when it came out, but I was working, then time just got by me and I forgot.” The lyrics to the smash hit “Ashley Here with Me” filled the car. “This is a great song.”

Troy nodded as he tapped his thumb on the steering wheel in time to the beat. The endless white line of the road seemed to stretch into forever.

“You know, I’ve met the Ashley he’s singing about in the song.”

“Yeah?” He glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

“Yeah. She was my stunt double’s roommate. She had a terrible accident during the production of
Dangerous
Race
. She had a rough recovery, but she’s fine now. A few scars to show for it, but I’ve discovered that scars mean you’re a survivor.”

She caught his gaze in the mirror again before he concentrated on the road. “What about you? Any scars besides the one I caused?”

He scowled. “
You
didn’t cause any scars.”

“Fine.” She totally disagreed with him, but it wasn’t worth arguing over. “Whatever.” She looked at her hand. “I’ve got three perfect marks on my palm from when I was running through the house with a fork. I fell and the fork stuck into the soft spot under my thumb. Man, did that hurt.” She laughed at the memory. Her mother hadn’t been able to pull the fork out easily. “And it bled all over Mom’s favorite kitchen rug. She was not a happy camper.”

He smiled. “How old were you?”

“Eight. I learned quickly why you shouldn’t run with knives and forks in your hand. What about you? Any childhood injuries that left their mark?”

He chuckled and shook his head the tiniest bit. “A few.”

She waited and when he didn’t elaborate she said, “Liiiiike...”

His jaw clenched then loosened. “I broke my toe during my first move into an apartment building. I was trying to load a refrigerator onto the moving truck, but the hydraulic lift collapsed and landed on my toe. Crushed it. On the way down, it took most of the skin off my shin to the bone.”

Julie crinkled her nose in sympathy. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t a good day to be me.”

Another hit song from Seger’s CD began, and Julie sang along softly. “Always Believe” talked about how someone’s love could make a person whole. She’d always wanted a love like that for herself. She thought she’d found it with Lucas, but that certainly hadn’t been the case.

“You got quiet,” he said.

Not only had the song ended, but several more had also played. Thinking about Lucas had taken her right out of the conversation.

“I got the impression that you liked it quiet.” It was a risk to say that, but one she wanted to take.

He glanced at her through the mirror. “You’re probably right. But I like hearing you talk. I like your voice.”

Warm fuzzies sprang up in her chest. For some silly reason, she flushed. “Well, that’s nice of you say, but I’d rather not talk if it’s going to be a one-sided conversation.” He was a smart man. He had to know what she implied between the lines.

“Fair enough. I’ll do my best to keep up.”

Wasn’t this interesting? “Okay. My favorite color is purple. What’s yours?”

“Green.”

For several hours they talked about music, cars and the crazy price of gasoline, which led to politics and oddly enough
Saturday
Night
Live
. They were both fans of Tina Fey. Troy’s answers might have been abbreviated but he was talking. That was good enough for Julie.

That night, outside of Des Moines, pretty much replicated Denver with one exception. By the time Julie got out of the bathroom, Troy had taken off his own boots before passing out on the king-size bed. Her frustration nearly blew the lid off her cool, but she refused to beg for it. She thought for sure after all the conversation that he’d be more inclined to be physical. Unless the more he got to know her, the less he wanted to be with her.

Well that sucked.

Julie kept her nose buried in her script most of the next day for a few reasons. One, she really did need to do her homework for the movie role, and two, baring her soul to Troy only made her more vulnerable and she didn’t like the feeling. If he wanted something between them he was going to have to do his part.

On the fourth night, they arrived in Erie, Pennsylvania. The last stop before they reached their destination.

“We’ve got a shorter day tomorrow,” he said, tossing their luggage onto the racks he’d set up. This room also had one bed, but Julie had learned that sleeping with him hadn’t necessarily meant
sleeping
with him. The place had been recently remodeled with new dark green carpeting that matched the flowers on the peach comforter.

She came out of the roomier than normal bathroom, surprised to see Troy right in front of her. She edged over to give him room to pass, but he didn’t budge. She glanced up and froze as his hot, penetrating stare drilled into hers. He looked at her and looked at her until her blood raced in her veins.

Hello, Mr. Dodge the Sex. Was he finally cracking under the pressure?

“You’re not asleep,” she said. Apparently she’d lost her brain if that was the best she could come up with.

He nodded, his gaze roaming to her mouth and back to her eyes, but didn’t say anything. Stroking a hand through her hair, he bent closer to her mouth. Julie’s heart nearly exploded. Moving in slowly, his lips came down over hers, soft and insistent, and she melted at his touch. She let the crutches fall when she snaked her arms around his neck and held him closer.

His stubble rasped against her mouth as they kissed and the burn felt sexy, hot. She loved the feel of his hand palming her head, how his fingers dug into her hair, the way his tongue moved inside her mouth, dueling with hers in a sweet, sinful, erotic slide. She rubbed against him, felt his erection straining his jeans and pushing low against her stomach. After long minutes of kissing, he pulled back, breathing hard, his hand cupping her head.

“I’ll be right out, okay? Give me a few minutes.”

She nodded, her breathing choppy. Looked like she might get to work off that frustration after all. God, the last two days sitting behind him, smelling him, watching his hands on the wheel and imagining those sex scenes from the screenplay had made her nearly daffy with lust.

Troy moved into the bathroom and she snagged the box of condoms she’d brought from home and set them on top of the nightstand drawer. After that kiss, she didn’t see him backing out of a night filled with smokin’ hot sex. Granted, she had hardly any clue what Troy thought at any given time, but that kiss said way more than words.

It would’ve been nice if she’d had something sexy to slip into, but her oversized, black
Dangerous
Race
T-shirt was worn to soft, comfortable cotton. She eighty-sixed her underwear. No reason to make him work for it.

Less than ten minutes later, Troy emerged from the bathroom. Deliciously shirtless and all hard muscle and washboard abs. Wearing a pair of straining black boxer briefs, he could’ve been a cover model for Calvin Klein underwear. He’d shaved off the sexy stubble, but it didn’t make him any less sexy. He had a rugged face, full of sharp angles, and his intensely focused eyes made her feel like the only woman in the world. He slid under the covers next to her and pulled her halfway beneath him. His gaze drilled into hers before he settled his lips on her again in a minty fresh kiss.

The explosion of heat and lust happened immediately. Julie’s need to have him washed over her like a swift current. She lifted her leg to wrap herself around him and a burst of pain shot across her thigh. She gasped and he pulled back.

“I
knew
we couldn’t do this.” He sounded absolutely convinced as he smacked his hand on the mattress.

“Of course we can do this. I just have to be careful, that’s all.” She reached up and kissed him and it took only a half second for him to get back on the lust train. His hands skimmed over her side, felt the curve of her breast and dip of her waist. His heat radiated through the fabric separating them. “Gotta get out of the clothes,” she said between kisses.

He grunted and pulled away long enough to strip off her top, then his lips skated to new territory and Julie lost her mind in the sensation of his lips, tongue and hands on her breasts.

She moved her leg and gasped again. Troy looked up, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not doing this if it’s going to hurt you.”

That must have been the reason he hadn’t tried anything the past two nights. He’d been worried about hurting her, so he’d purposely avoided the possibility. Now her cuts and scrapes had faded and she looked much better. Why hadn’t she figured it out sooner?

“It only hurts because I keep forgetting about my leg and want to wrap it around you. Can you blame me?” She grabbed his ass and squeezed. “I just want to lock you to me. So sue me.”

He wasn’t smiling. “I’m serious. I’m not doing this if it’s going to hurt you.”

“It’s going to hurt me more if you don’t.”

He dropped his head and she couldn’t see his face, but she read the indecision in his body language. The idea that he might really avoid making love to her because of her stitches made her crazy.

“What if we make it so you can’t hurt me?”

He lifted his head, concern and torment in his eyes. “How?”

“I don’t know. There has to be a way.”

His eyes narrowed, his gaze got hotter. “I might have an idea.” He looked up, then glanced over his shoulder. “What if I tie you down?”