Page 16 of Explosive Vengeance

Undeterred, Chloe clamped a hand on his shoulder and boosted upward to grab the phone. “Hand it over,” she ordered, trying to pry it from his grasp and enjoying herself a whole lot. He feltniceand smelled good too.

“Get off me,” he snapped, turning around in a circle and pushing at her shoulder with his free hand. He was way bigger and stronger than her, so he wasn’t trying very hard. Almost like he was afraid of hurting her if he exerted too much force.

Awww. Sweet, but totally naïve. The man was also cut, built of solid muscle.Verynice. “Just give me the damn phone, Barrett,” she said, trying not to giggle. She’d hurt his pride enough already.

He twisted his upper body away from her, transferred the phone to his other hand and whipped it behind his back to keep it from her. But she was ready. She dove for it, seized it before he could firm his grip, and snagged it.

“Ha!” she crowed in triumph and hopped off him, dancing out of reach before he could grab her.

Heath heaved a sigh and folded his arms, his expression dark. “You better give it back.”

“Uh-huh.” She took the SIM card out of it, snapped it in half, then tossed the phone on the floor and raised her boot.

His gasp of horror cut through the room. “No—”

She slammed the heel of her boot into it, crushing it on the wooden floorboards.

He made a wounded sound before nailing her with a fulminating glare. “Are youserious? What the hell iswrongwith you?”

Ignoring him, she crossed to her backpack on the kitchen table, took out a burner and tossed it to him. “Here.”

Those gorgeous blue eyes shot sparks at her as he caught it. “Knifing me in the groin wasn’t enough when I’ve just been trying to make sure you’re okay? You had to crush my phone on top of it?”

She shrugged, refusing to feel guilty. “Had to be done. Couldn’t risk that someone else was tracking us or listening in.” She walked around him to the fridge and pulled out a can of energy drink. “Want one?” she asked.

“No,” he growled, jaw tight.

He was even sexier when he was annoyed. “So, how much do you know about all this?” she asked, casually crossing one ankle over the other as she took a sip.

“Nothing. Okay? I knownothing, and I gotta tell you, I’m pissed the hell off.”

Can’t say I blame you.Roles reversed, she’d be pissed too. “Well, let’s hope we both get the answers we’re looking for once Megan and Ty get here in a few hours.”

“Yeah, let’s,” he muttered darkly, and turned away to rummage through the cupboards. “You got anything else to eat here resembling actual food? Crackers? Peanut butter or something?”

“I dunno. Maybe. The owner stocks it for me whenever I stay, but this was pretty last-minute setup, so I doubt she had time.” She watched him look through the cupboards. “You should just have a Pop Tart.”

“I’m not eating a damn Pop Tart,” he snarled. He pulled a loaf of bread out of the cupboard above the toaster, followed by a half-empty jar of peanut butter, and proceeded to make himself a sandwich, a scowl stamped on his face.

It was no hardship to watch him. “Nothing else to say?” she asked as he found a knife and began slapping the peanut butter on the bread.

“Nope. I’m staying put until I talk to Ty face to face, and then I’m outta here.”

“Hmm, too bad.”

“What?” he snapped, looking up at her.

“I said, too bad.” He intrigued her enough that she wanted to know more about him. For instance, what had made him into such a Boy Scout that he would drop everything and race to hop on a train just to help a woman he didn’t even know?

Also, the gruff thing he had going on was hella sexy on him.

“Whatever,” he muttered, still annoyed.

“So, you were a PJ, huh?”

His stare burned with irritation. “Yeah. And?”

“I like PJs. PJs are awesome.”

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