Page 10 of Bad Guys Need Love Too

“Are you…military or something?”

He snorted. “No. Iespeciallywouldn’t trust themilitaryto keep you safe.”

And the weird hits just kept coming. Time to try a different tactic. She might be a shitty judge of character, but she could usually tell the truth from a lie with a direct question. So, she asked, “And if I go with you willingly, you promise,Ren, that you’re not going to doanythingto hurt me?”

The look he gave her was the most open, sincere look anyone had ever given her. “I’d never hurt you, Lark. Never.”

Well, he wasn’t lying. He at leastbelievedhe’d never do anything to hurt her. That was something, she supposed.

She’d probably feel better about that knowledge if she wasn’t betting herlifeon it. But, here she was.

His house was…not what she’d expected.

First of all, it wasn’t some remote farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. It was a nice, two-story, mid-century modern home in a suburb full of other nice, two-story, mid-century modern homes. Clearly a place where you’d find happy, photogenic families, not giant, burly kidnappers with cool tattoos and a nipple piercing.

The only part of the picture that fit in Lark’s mind was that Ren’s house was on a cul-de-sac that hadn’t been built out, so he didn’t have any close neighbors. Which meant that if she screamed at the top of her lungs when she was in this house, she was sure no one would be able to hear her.

Not exactly a comforting thought in this scenario.

It was a really pretty lot, though. Lots of huge oak, maple, and pine trees, and what looked like a little creek running through the backyard. So, if she was murdered and buried here, at least her final resting place would be peaceful and scenic.

“Nice place,” she said. “Isolated.”

He pulled into the three-car garage, parked, and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in a boyish gesture of discomfort that was completely at odds with his ruggedly masculine appearance. “I’m not good with…neighbors.”

“Shocking,” she said dryly.

Lark glanced out the truck window at the garage. It didn’t look like the garage of a serial killer or psycho. No heads in jars. No dangerously sharp tools that could be used for dismembering bodies. It was just a garage. Empty except for the truck and a lone shelving unit holding some weed killer, a package of paper towels, and a few bottles of motor oil.

She flinched when he opened her door. Damn it, she hadn’t even noticed that he’d gotten out of the car. This was how she’d ended up with a hit on her life, kidnapped by a mystery man, and whisked away to a remote location. She was justthatdamned unobservant.

He offered her a hand, but she ignored it, choosing to jump out instead. A short woman might’ve needed help climbing down from the giant truck, but she could manage it.

Except…she couldn’t. Because apparently, her foot had fallen asleep on the long car ride. The second she hit the ground, her leg gave out and she collapsed. She would’ve done a faceplant on Ren’s weirdly clean garage floor if he hadn’t grabbed her and hauled her up against his chest.

It was areallynice chest.

Which was not something she should notice in their current circumstance. Nor should she notice how good he smelled. Like sun-dried laundry and Ivory soap.

“You OK?” he asked, his lush-looking lips dangerously close to her own.

She cleared her throat. “I’m good. Foot fell asleep. It’s fine now, though.”

He seemed reluctant to let her go. Frankly, she was ashamed to admit she was reluctant to let go of him, too. But cuddling with her kidnapper couldn’t possibly be a good idea. So she straightened in his arms and took a very purposeful step out of his reach.

With a curt nod, he led her into the house.

If you put “house in the midwestern suburbs” into a search engine, this place would be the first image that popped up.

Open concept, beige walls, overstuffed, bulky couch, giant flatscreen TV above the stone fireplace, contractor-grade everything…it all screamed unoriginal. Boring. Cold.

Nothingat alllike the man standing before her.

“You have a…nice home,” Lark said.

He glanced around as if he couldn’t see what she was seeing. “This isn’t the real house.”

Oh, Lord, he really was a lunatic, wasn’t he? “What do you mean it’s not therealhouse?”

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