Page 17 of Married to Mischief

I scream as warm liquid drips down my front. But Liam ignores me, too focused on the door.

“We have to go.” Liam grabs my arm, yanking me out of my seat.

“What? Why? Look at me.” I gesture to my front.

“Sorry about that,” he says, turning only to glance back at the door. “I don’t know how he found us so fast,” he mutters. “Not as stupid as he looks.”

“What’s going on?” I turn to see who he’s talking about and make eye contact with a balding, middle-aged man. His face is so red, steam must be coming out of his ears. The treasure hunter, I presume. “We should probably run.”

“Way ahead of you, darling.”

“Don’t you dare leave me behind!” I leap over a rogue chair and shove Liam to the side to get in front of him.

“I’ll never leave you behind! That being said, I run faster.”

“Race you.”

I hit the service entrance first and ram right into a server carrying a gigantic tray of food. The air disappears from my lungs as the tray hits my midsection. Sandwiches, salads, and worse–jello–goes flying. All into me. I’m wearing more than the floor.

“Don’t slow down.” Liam yanks me forward, but he loses momentum when he’s jerked backward.

I slip on the jello smeared under my shoes and dive into the mess, barely catching myself on my hands and knees.

“Hawthorne.” The man grabs Liam by the throat. “I’ve been looking for you for a long time.”

“I didn’t realize your eyesight had gotten so bad,” Liam says. This earns him a punch to the gut.

Why did I have to choose the one man intent on pissing everyone off?

I grab onto the wall to pull myself up. “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met.” I stick my hand out to the man leering over Liam. He looks at my hand but doesn’t reach for it. “Special AgentCruz. Liam Hawthorne is in my custody and turning on some old friends from his past. Who might you be?”

The treasure hunter’s eyes widen a bit. He shakes his head. “I don’t believe you. A little birdy told me you’re looking for the Moore treasure, and I want in.”

“It already belongs to the FBI,” I say.

He pulls a gun out of his belt, and people in the kitchen scream, ducking and hiding. “Wrong. You two will take me there, or I’m putting a bullet in one of you.”

I didn’t think he’d go for that.

“In that case, you should know something.” I step to the side, garnering a better angle for myself. “Liam is a much better target because he's pretentious and annoying.”

“I resent that. You’re far more irritating than I,” Liam retorts.

The man looks at Liam, confused, and I take that moment to kick the gun free of his hand. It skitters somewhere under the kitchen counter, and Howie lunges at me. I greet him with a fist to the face and a knee to the groin.

He groans and falls to the floor. “As far as sparring partners go, I’ve had better,” I say.

That seems to tick him off, and he swipes at my leg, but Liam beats me to the literal punch, knocking him out. Liam grins up at me. “Now who's getting cocky?”

He’s rubbing off on me. I’m going to need to fix that. “Whatever.” I brush food out of my hair.

“Don’t ever change. It’s sexy. But we should probably go.”

“Agreed.” We slip out into the back hallway.

Liam leads me down the stairs to the parking garage, right to a Range Rover. He then proceeds to open it.

“What are you doing?! I thought we were working on this!”

---