Page 12 of Once a Killer

“Jesus, Gordon!” He winced. “Thanks for putting that image in my brain.”

“You’re welcome.” She tilted back on her chair legs and took a sip of coffee. “You have those three locks on both the front and back doors?”

“I do.” He nodded toward the back door, behind her. “Much more likely someone would try to come through that door.”

Bree pushed her plate toward the center of the table and scribbled down her notes. Then she looked up. “That’s not all you have.”

He smiled, a real one this time. “You’re right about that. There’s a pressure pad beneath the doormats at my front and back doors. It triggers an alarm on my phone. A vibration and a low tone. So I always know when someone’s at my door.”

Bree wanted to smile. This guy had thought about his security. Instead, she nodded at him. “Good thinking. And I assume you have cameras at both the back and front doors.”

“I do. The feed goes to my phone and my computer.”

She tilted her head. “Anyone try to break in yet?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No serious threats. A couple of neighborhood kids tried to get into my back door. They didn’t succeed, of course, but I ran after them and scared the hell out of them. Told them if they tried anything at my place again, they’d go away for a long time.”

Bree leaned toward him. “That wasn’t all you did. What else?”

He glanced at the door, then shifted his gaze toward the sink. Didn’t meet her eyes. “I, ah, enrolled them in a coding class at the local park district. I knew the guy who was teaching it and knew he was good with kids and knew how to teach coding. They’re still in the class, according to my friend.”

When he looked back at her, Bree’s gaze had softened. “You changed those kids’ lives.”

He shrugged one shoulder, uncomfortable with his revelation. “I showed them an alternate path. I hope they take advantage of it.”

She didn’t want to admire him. She wanted to keep him in the ‘just a job, just another arrogant asshole’ box. But he’d done a good thing. Taken two teens who were on a dangerous path and showed them another way.

Jameson Ford wasn’t just a pretty-boy coder with a big brain and a golden program. He wasn’t just a guy looking at a billion-dollar payday.

There were layers to Jameson. A lot more than she’d realized.

Chapter 5

As they prepared to leave his apartment, Bree headed for the front door. She probably assumed she’d drive her car and he’d ride with her.

Nope. No way. Not a chance in hell. “We’re taking my car,” Jameson said. He jerked his head toward the back door. “In the garage.”

She turned to face him. “We’ll take your car if you prefer that. But I’m driving.”

“Hell, no,” he said immediately. After the near-accident he’d had, he needed to be in control in a car. “My car, I drive.”

She stared at him for a long moment. Shook her head. “Should have known you’d give me grief about driving. Tell me, how many defensive driving classes have you taken?”

“None. But I managed to avoid a collision when a honking big SUV tried to T-bone me.”

“Good for you,” she said. He’d swear she smirked at him. “You know the next time they’ll be a lot more aggressive.”

“May not be a next time,” he shot back. “I leave at different times every day. Morning and evening.”

“Which is a good idea. But you always end up at the same place,” she pointed out. “And I guarantee you that whoever tried to hit your car knows exactly where your lab is.”

They’d been staring at each other as they talked, locked in a duel. He hated being the first to look away, but he didn’t like that she was parrying every argument he made. And he hated even more that they made sense.

Before he could think of a counter-argument, she said, “Look, I get that you want to drive. But I’ve taken several defensive driving classes. A couple of evade and elude classes. If there’s a situation between here and your lab, I guarantee you I’ve learned how to counter it. How to avoid getting hit. How to get both of us safely to our destination.”

If she’d gotten all pissy and annoyed, he would have persisted. But how was he supposed to counter her logic? Her training?Damnit.

“Fine,” he said, trying to sound gracious instead of pouty. “You can drive. But we’re taking my car. I’m adamant about that.”

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