Page 63 of Pulse

“Well, you’re damn good at it,” he said before sliding into her passenger seat.

She joined him a moment later and started the car without another word. Complete silence ensued for the first five minutes, but it wasn’t a comfortable quiet. Every twenty seconds or so, Talia glanced his way before focusing back on the road. She clutched the wheel so hard her knuckles stayed white, and her tension was so palpable it became a third person in the vehicle. Her neck and shoulders would be permanently bunched and full of tender knots if she didn’t relax.

Two more minutes passed before he couldn’t take the silent treatment any longer. “Talia?”

“Yeah?” She glanced away from the road. “You good?”

Could her tone be any faker? “There’s a park on the left at the next stop sign. Pull in.”

She peered at him with a frown. “Is something wrong?”

Too many things.

“Just pull in.”

“Uh, all right.”

She rolled to a stop and then made the left into the deserted lot.

“Drive to the end and park.”

Her huff of annoyance had him grinning. Even flustered and off her game, she didn’t respond well to commands. But she drove to the far side of the parking lot and pulled into a spot facing a lake no one should ever swim in. Gators owned it and most bodies of water where they lived.

“What’s up?” she asked, facing him once she’d put the car in park.

“Come here.” He patted his thighs.

“What?” Talia forced a laugh and looked everywhere but at him. “I’m not going to hop over the console and sit in your lap, Pulse.”

“Talia…” He patted his thigh again.

She sighed, then finally lifted her gaze to meet his. He saw the same thing he felt. A jumble of emotions—frustration, annoyance, fear, and raw need. All things Talia would struggle to admit, but nothing that would drive him away or make him think less of her. Talia was pure strength and grit, but even the strongest needed a soft place to land now and then.

“Come here.”

“Pulse, this is silly.” Her voice wavered.

“Talia…” He gentled his tone, and she blinked rapidly.

Shit, was she about to cry? Why did the thought of it feel like a knife to his heart?

No, Talia wouldn’t cry. That was a weakness too far in her mind. She huffed another strained laugh, then climbed over the console with much more grace and ease than should have been possible. Her knees landed on either side of him, wedged between his body and the car, and then she settled down on his lap. The second her incredible ass hit his thighs, tension bled out of him as though someone had released a pressure valve.

Talia’s soft sigh had him grinning. He rested his hands on her hips. “Hi,” he said as he squeezed.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered. “They hurt you.” She cupped his face and gently turned him, so she had a better view of his scratched cheek.

It hurt like hell when it happened, but the discomfort had faded to a dull sting. Her soft hands took away the last of the pain. He couldn’t feel anything but pleasure when she touched him.

“I hate that they hurt you.” She stroked her thumb along his jawline beneath the extensive abrasion.

“A scrape and some bruises. Nothing to stress about. I had worse last month when I helped Spec chase down some meth dealers who were selling to kids in our area. They put up a helluva fight and busted my nose.”

She didn’t laugh at his anecdote, letting her hand drop as she bowed her head. “I think I’m losing my mind,” she mumbled. “Something is wrong with me. I feel… crazy.”

“How so?” He slid his hands around her back and under her sweatshirt. She whimpered when he encountered her bare skin.

This was precisely what he needed—her warm, soft skin in his hands. He stroked his fingers up and down her lower spine, soaking her in.

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