Page 6 of Shielded

“I appreciate the deep, heartfelt thought that went into this gum, but I’m good.”

She smiles coyly and says, “Where I’m from, you take a gift when it’s handed to you, and you appreciate it.”

I scratch my head and put the truck in drive. I can’t tell yet if her attitude is going to annoy the hell out of me or if I find it intriguing. Either way, I take a piece of gum from the wrap and slide it into my mouth. “Minty. Thank you.”

She smiles wider this time, and that twitch comes back.

Fuck! I growl under my breath and re-situate myself until my cock isn’t poking at my zipper. This is a problem. A big problem. “So,” I say, desperate to talk about anything work related, “I was doing some research on you and your family, and—”

“Research?”

“Social media.”

“What? You spied on us?”

Turns out the struggle isn’t as intriguing as I thought it might be. It’s, in fact, annoying. “It’s not spying if you put it out there for everyone to read. Besides, you hired me to do this, remember?”

She folds her arms over the front of her chest, and though my eyes are on the road, I can’t help but notice her breasts pressing upward together. “What did you decide about my family based on your internet explorations?”

“Look,” I groan, “if you’re going to be defiant the whole night, I’ll pull over right now and put an end to all this.”

“I asked you a question. I’m not being defiant. Why don’t you tell me something about you? Like, I don’t know, what’s your favorite color?”

I don’t want to entertain this nonsense. I’ve secured buildings from bomb threats. I’ve protected people’s lives. This… this fake date shit is so fucking stupid. That said, if she wants to know my favorite color, I’ll tell her.

“Blue.” My tone is flat. “Yours?”

She shrugs and her tone lifts as though this is a game. “Umm… probably pink, but some days it’s black.”

“Pink or black. That seems like a you thing to say.”

“What does that mean?” she snarls.

I sigh. “It means you’re all over the place.”

She turns toward me, and though my eyes are on the pines that pass as I drive down the mountain, I feel the frustration in her stare. “I am not all over the place. You’re just insulted because I don’t roll over and let you take the lead.”

I want to burst into laughter, but I figure that’s inappropriate. I remind myself that Ox owes this woman a favor and I owe Ox a lifetime of favors. Freaking out on her won’t help me achieve my goal of paying him back.

“You’re a special girl, Siren. I’ll give you that. Why don’t you tell me more about you? What’s your favorite band?”

I keep my eyes on the road. I need to stay focused.

“I don’t know…” She sounds grumpy. “I don’t listen to bands. I like country. Everything from Morgan Wallen to Garth Brooks. I can listen to anything from that genre.”

Okay, we have nothing in common.

“What about you?” she asks, her tone softening.

“Rock mostly. Van Halen, The Who, Led Zeppelin.”

“Yeah, not my thing.”

“Doesn’t have to be. People have differences. We can still make this work.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “I don’t know if we can. I’m worried that whatever weird tension we have here is going to be clearly visible.”

“Well… you could tone it down.”

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