Page 18 of Point of Contact

Courtney’s eyes widened in fake innocence. “Would you prefer Sexy No-Pants?” Her eyes dropped down the front of his body. “I mean I have seen your—”

“I’d prefer you don’t call me anything.” He cut her off before she could remind him of their initial run-in.

Courtney tipped her head. “I guess that’s too bad for you.” She moved even closer and ran the tip of one finger down the center of his chest. “Sexy No-Pants.”

He stared down at her, trying to dig up his normal level of irritation. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that, Princess?”

“I do know that.” She walked her fingers up his chest before booping him on the end of his nose. “But even though it’s in pain, your ass is still pretty damn nice.” She pressed her smiling lips together. “I got a pretty good look at that too.” She turned toward the road. “So are we gonna keep walking around like this, or are we gonna get ourselves some clothes?”

He didn’t want to have to answer that. Didn’t want to have to cross yet another line he would never be able to forget. But they were running short on options. “You sure you don’t want to call the police?”

Courtney’s eyes came his way, one dark brow cocking. “Do you have a boner for the cops or something?” She widened her eyes as they swung back to the roadway. “Because I wouldn’t think someone who works in the line you do would be so interested in bringing them into this.”

Any tolerance he’d accidentally developed for the woman beside him evaporated in an instant. “Watch it.” He glared at her a second longer before shoving his way through the last bit of scrappy overgrowth, leaving her to follow behind him.

Or not. Hopefully, not.

Courtney groaned behind him. “God you’re an asshole.” She stomped through the tall grass. “Just when I was starting to think you might not be a complete dick, you go and remind me why you were my least favorite babysitter.”

"Aren't you a little old to have a favorite babysitter?" That's what his time with her last year had been though. Nothing more than glorified babysitting. Taking care of a brat throwing a temper tantrum.

"You're awfully ungrateful for someone whose salary I probably paid." She continued behind him, ranting as they moved. "But I guess if it wasn't for me taking up all your time, you could've added a few more notches to your murder belt."

He stopped short as she stuck her finger right in a festering wound. When he spun to face her, she didn't even have the sense to look surprised. "You’re pushing me, Princess."

Courtney rolled her eyes. "I'm so fucking scared." She stepped in, squaring up to him. "What are you gonna do? Leave me out here?" She snorted out a laugh. "I don't think so. Don't want to sully your pristine mercenary image. Gotta make people think you're the best at your job."

This was how things always ended up with her. She knew exactly what buttons to push, and she nailed each one with a sledgehammer.

"At least I have a fucking job." He inched in more until they were toe-to-toe and nose to nose. "All you do is sit at home on your ass, pretending like your life matters."

Courtney didn't even flinch. "That's where you're wrong." Her nostrils barely flared. "I know my life doesn't matter to anyone but me." She planted one hand in the center of his chest and shoved, pushing him out of her way before storming past him, going straight for the road as a set of headlights cut through the darkness.

The chances of someone finding them were slim, but not none. Instinct took over, sending him right into her, taking her down as the car slowed to coast past them.

Courtney grunted as they hit the dirt, all the air rushing from her lungs. She kicked back at him, fighting against his weight until she was free. Then she jumped up, looking down at her filthy front. "You prick. You did that on purpose." She tried to brush away the debris clinging to the shirt and embedded in her knees. "You're trying to punish me for making you do your job."

Was that what he was doing? Taking out his own pent-up frustrations about the twist of fate that had forced him to join Alaskan Security?

Courtney flailed around, knocking bits of whatever was under their feet from her hair. "You know what? It doesn't even matter." She held both arms out. "I relieve you of your duty. Go back to Alaska. I'll figure this out on my own." She turned away from him, marching along the narrow bit of cover.

She was about twenty feet in front of him when the car that passed earlier stopped, brake lights illuminating in the darkness.

Then it started to back up.

"Fuck." Reed shoved up from the ground and took off after her. Stepping as carefully as he could to keep his path as quiet as possible, he kept one eye on Courtney and one on the car as he went. He was almost to her when she seemed to notice the car was coming and ducked down.

But it wasn't the car she was avoiding. A second later his forehead connected with the metal crossbar of an abandoned footbridge, and everything went dark.

CHAPTER SEVEN

COURTNEY

NORMALLY SHE WOULDN'T mind sparring with Reed. Part of her loved giving him shit, even if he was all too eager to give it back.

Or maybe that was why she enjoyed it so much.

Reed wasn't fake. He didn't tell her what she wanted to hear in the hope she would make his life better. Buy him clothes. Buy him drinks. Connect him with someone who might invest in some ridiculous business idea.

---