Page 9 of Point of Contact

"I don't give a shit if I hurt your feelings." He worked his jaw from side to side, gaze carrying no small amount of disdain as it moved over her, and he let out a snort of a laugh. "Let me guess. You're the one who set that fucking fire."

It wasn't a terrible guess, honestly. She'd done all sorts of things over the years in a bid to get attention from someone. Anyone. But this wasn't one of those instances.

"No." She lifted her wrist, showing him the red marks dug into her skin and the bruise blooming around her thumb. "Unfortunately it wasn't me being a pain in your ass this time."

Reed’s focus zeroed in on the damage she'd done escaping what was intended to be an assassination. "If it wasn't you, then who was it?"

She dropped her hands, brushing them against the one still cupping his dick. "That's the twenty-thousand-dollar question, isn't it?" She smirked. "Unless you'd rather I get on my knees."

She was almost hoping he might pick the latter.

But Reed once again seemed unimpressed by her offer. "Who doyouthink it was?"

Apparently he was so unimpressed by her offer of a blow job that he was just going to ignore it completely. Fine.

"I would assume it was someone who mistakenly believed my father would be devastated at the loss of his only child." She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice even after years of seeing her father for what he was and what he would never be. She shouldn’t still be disappointed, but she was.

Reed stepped away from her, and this time she let him go. "Who has your father pissed off now?"

Courtney watched him walk away, enjoying the flex of his well-defined ass as he went to grab his clothes. "Who hasn't he pissed off?"

Her father wasn't known for his even temperament or his fairness. He had a tendency to go around acting like he could do whatever he wanted, and usually he could. But things were changing in Miami, and her father didn't seem to be keeping up.

"I take it he hasn't slowed down any." Reed stepped into a pair of pants, not even bothering with underwear. Interesting.

"The only way my father will slow down is if he’s dead. And based on the amount of force they used to get into my house, that might happen sooner rather than later." She'd been on her treadmill, exercising away her emotions, when the belt stopped moving and the screen went black. She thought it came unplugged and went to investigate as they started ramming her back door. It was barely noticeable above the bass coming through her headphones, so it wasn't until the fourth or fifth hit that she noticed the sound wasn't following the beat. By the time she got downstairs, they were already in. Already past the point of no return.

"So your plan is to just disappear?" Reed grabbed his shirt, yanking it over his head to hide the rest of his remarkably fit body from her roving gaze.

"Everyone already thinks I'm dead, right?" She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "Might as well go along with them."

He studied her with a sharp gaze. "And you think living in Alaska will be better than staying in Miami?"

She couldn't stop the laugh that broke free. "Anywhere is better than Miami." She’d lived here her whole life, but it was never her home. Home was somewhere you felt comfortable. Safe. Protected. It was where the people who loved you lived.

There was none of that here, or anywhere for that matter, so she might as well get as far away from the people who tried to kill her as possible.

Reed’s gaze turned skeptical. "I don't think Alaska is going to be what you think it's going to be, Princess."

He definitely meant that as an insult, but it actually didn't bother her. It made her think of fairytales and princes and knights in shining armor.

Granted, she didn’t know of any fairy tales that took place in a frozen tundra like Alaska, but she hadn't come across any in the sun and heat of Florida either, so—

"Don't forget, I've already lived in Alaska." She moved toward Reed again. Her closeness seemed to make him uncomfortable and throw him off. Both would be helpful, and both amused her. "I’m sure Alaska will be exactly what I expect it to be." She stopped in front of him, looping both arms around his neck. "And I'm glad we've already gotten to the point where we have nicknames for each other."

Reed reached up, grabbing her forearms and unlinking them from his neck. "I've always had that nickname for you. I just never said it to your face."

She was unbothered by his chilly demeanor. Reed had always been all work and no play, so his reaction wasn’t a surprise. Some of the other guys would humor her from time to time, but never him. He tolerated not a bit of her bullshit.

That meant she had to be absolutely on her game if she wanted to score a trip to Alaska. Luckily she was happy to pull out all the stops.

Courtney held his gaze, undaunted and undeterred. "Do you want to know what I called you behind your back?"

"No." His mouth flattened into an unamused line.

"Too bad. I'm going to tell you anyway." She reached out to tap one finger in the center of his chest. "I called you Captain Sour Pants." She walked her fingers up the center of his chest to press one against his lips. "Because you always greeted me with that sour look on your face."

"Because you were always a pain in my ass." He said it like she didn't already know.

---