Page 58 of Wilde and Deadly

She glanced back at him over her shoulder as she scooped up her pants from the floor. “Only mostly?”

He propped himself up on one elbow, the sheet riding low on his hips. “Well, you did take the job initially. That’s not something a man easily forgets from just a few rounds of good sex.”

“I took it to save you.” She stepped into her cargo pants and glowered at him as she fastened the button. “And what do you mean bygoodsex? That should’ve ruined you for all other women.”

Davey’s eyes glinted with mischief as he stood. He was shamelessly, comfortably naked, his cock still half-hard. She couldn’t help but look her fill as he prowled towards her, all lean muscle and tanned skin. He stopped just short of touching her, leaning in close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him.

“I mean, yeah, it was good, but not quite enough to make me forget you agreed to kill me at one point. You’ll have to try harder next time.”

Rowan narrowed her eyes at him, but the slight twitch of her lips ruined the effect. “You’re an ass.”

“Yeah, I am.” He pulled her against him and his hands slid down to cup her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “But you love me anyway.”

Rowan rolled her eyes but didn’t resist, letting her hands come to rest on his chest. “I love parts of you. The jury is still out on the whole package.”

“I think the jury came back with a pretty definitive verdict today,” he murmured, dipping his head to nuzzle her neck. “Several times, in fact.”

Her heart did a little flip at his words, even as she tried to maintain her unaffected facade. Damn him for making her feel things, for making her want things she had no business wanting. Like a future. With him.

She allowed herself a moment to savor his embrace, the solid strength of his body against hers, before regretfully pulling away. “As much as I’d love to stay here and stroke your ego—among other things—I really do need to meet with Benji.”

Davey sighed but released her. “I know. But I’m coming with you.”

She caught his arm. “Like hell you are.”

He shook her off and opened his dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of tactical pants. “I’m not letting you go alone, Rowan.”

“I think I can handle myself against a computer nerd with more drugs in his system than blood.”

“Need I remind you, you were just stabbed?”

“Not by Benji.”

Davey paused with his pants halfway up his thighs, fixing her with a stern look. “That’s not the point, and you know it. Until we find out who’s behind Kryos and why they want us both dead, you’re not going anywhere alone. End of discussion.”

Rowan glared at him, hating that he was right. She was used to working solo, relying only on herself. Having someone else watching her back, caring about her safety, was foreign and unsettling. But also, if she was honest with herself, kind of nice.

“Fine,” she bit out. “But you follow my lead.”

fourteen

The laundromat smelledof detergent and fabric softener, the air thick with humidity from the industrial dryers churning in the back. Rowan adjusted the strap of her holster beneath her jacket as she scanned the space. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed, flickering slightly, casting an artificial glow over the rows of humming machines. The place was mostly empty—just an elderly woman folding towels in the corner and a guy in a hoodie pretending to scroll on his phone.

Davey stood a few paces behind her, arms crossed over his chest. “You sure this isn’t a trap?”

Rowan shot him a look. “No.”

He huffed. “Reassuring.”

She ignored him, stepping further into the laundromat. Benji had picked the spot—neutral ground, public enough to deter immediate violence but with enough noise and cover to have a private conversation. Still, her fingers itched to pull her gun, instincts screaming at her from too many double-crosses.

A rustling noise came from behind a row of machines, and she tensed. A moment later, Benji stumbled into view, shoving his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose with one hand and clutching a battered laptop case with the other. His shirt was three sizes too big, his jeans also baggy, and his sneakers were scuffed and untied.

“Got any quarters?”

Davey shifted beside her. “That him?”

Rowan nodded. “That’s Benji.” She sighed and turned toward the guy. “I’m not giving you money until I get the flash drive.”

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