Page 30 of High Velocity

“Keep it to yourself,” she says, a hard edge to her voice. “All he wants is a fresh start, and he doesn’t want to draw any attention. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I lift my hands, palms out, as I stand up as well.

“I get it. Believe me, I do. Heck, I probably overshared as well,” I quickly add, playing the role of being equally vulnerable. “But, like you told me yesterday, this is a good place to hide out, and I hope it offers a fresh start for both of us.”

That seems to appease her, but I still quickly make my excuses, thank her for lunch, and head out. I don’t get away before exchanging phone numbers though. I’d prefer not to have to continue the ruse—I got what I came for—but I can’t exactly say no when she asks.

Trying not to be too obvious about scanning my surroundings, I make my way to my SUV. Tracy is standing in the doorway, watching as I do a three-point turn until I’m aimed in the direction of the road. I roll down my window and wave as I head down the driveway.

It’s not until I reach the end of Waterfront Road and stop, I notice the dark pickup pulling up right behind me.

Ten

Jackson

The only vehicles parked in front of 254 Waterfront Road are a gray Pontiac Vibe and Stephanie’s SUV.

I had to leave my truck a little farther up the road, not wanting to draw attention to myself, and ended up approaching the trailer on foot. Just close enough to where I could get a clear view of the place.

I have no intention of interfering in Stephanie’s investigation, and am happy to keep my distance, but I didn’t like the idea of her ending up in a situation where she might need backup and wouldn’t have any.

In fact, I suspect she wasn’t nearly as sure of herself as she made it sound, why else would she call and give me the address where she’d be? My gut told me to get my ass out here and keep a discreet eye out.

Which is why I’ve been about ten feet up a tree, perched on a thick enough branch to hold my weight, watching the place. Climbing with my prosthesis was more of a hindrance than a help, and I was tempted to take it off, but that would seriously slow me down on the ground if I had to move for some reason. Fortunately, my upper body strength is decent, and I have some experience getting up and down trees, so I managed.

The moment I see Stephanie stepping out the front door, I breathe out a sigh of relief and lower myself to the ground. Then I quickly make my way back to my truck, reaching it just as her SUV comes out of the driveway and pulls onto the road.

I keep my distance, but when her CR-V comes to a halt at the end of the road, I have a vehicle behind me and have no choice but to pull up right behind her.

As she pulls away from the stop sign, my phone rings and her name pops up on the screen on my dashboard.

“Are you following me?” is the first thing out of her mouth when I answer.

“Define following?” I evade, while trying to come up with an answer that doesn’t make me look like some weird stalker.

“Jackson…” she threatens, and I decide the truth is probably the best option.

“In case you needed a safety net. I figured normally you’d have your team for backup, but they aren’t here, and I had nothing better to do. At least nothing better than doing laundry, and I was already sick of that.”

It’s quiet, and I’m half-waiting for her to get pissed, but she surprises me by laughing softly.

“I swear, you cowboy types can’t help yourselves, can you?”

“Not sure what you mean.”

That’s a lie, I have a pretty good idea. I’ve had a first-row seat to several of my teammates developing a protective streak for the right woman. I always thought it was kind of funny, given every last one of those women can take care of themselves, but I’m not laughing now.

“This alpha thing. You do realize I’m a trained and seasoned FBI agent, right?”

“I do,” I concede before confessing, “and I’m sorry to tell you, it doesn’t make a lick of difference. It must be a hormonal thing; a surplus of testosterone or something. It’s animal instinct.”

I grin when I hear her snort.

Jesus, how long has it been since I’ve casually joked around with anyone, let alone a woman? I used to be pretty lighthearted, loved to goof around, but I haven’t been that person for some time now.

“Are you following me all the way home?” she asks.

I hadn’t really thought about it, but that sounds like a fine idea.

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