Page 54 of Stolen Goods
“When you get wherever it is you’re going,” she murmured, and then licked her lips as an embarrassed flush rose across her cheeks. Addy tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He didn’t want her to hide, and she didn’t want to either. “Will you send me a painting? Of yours? Something…” She wanted to say,Something to remember you by, but it sounded too cliché or too dramatic, too much like a girl with a schoolyard crush when this was something else entirely, something unquantifiable. Instead, she said, “Something original.”
“I will.” His eyes softened, losing the wary edge, because that was a promise he could keep, which was why she’d chosen it from the many others circling in the back of her thoughts, too dangerous to say aloud. “But only if you promise me something.”
“What?”
He pressed a light kiss to her lips, then another to her cheek, then another and another, drawing a burning path across her face until his mouth hovered above her ear, breath a warm tickle against her skin. “Promise me you’ll go to Paris.”
Just like that, her impossible vision rushed forward, not quite as impossible as before.
“I will.” She breathed the word, struggling for air as his lips slid down and the heat rushed back. Funny how in all her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined a man quite like him would be the one to come along and sweep her off her feet. A man who set his own rules and didn’t abide by anyone else’s. A man with thick walls that were only beginning to crack. A man with an artist’s soul but devil’s hands.
She’d always envisioned a Prince Charming. Proper and nice. The sort of man who didn’t think love could be made anywhere outside of the bedroom. But as she watched Thad’s head sink farther and farther down her stomach, then looked out the open tent to the untamed wilderness beyond, Addy couldn’t help but think, a gasp on her lips as stars exploded behind her eyes,Oh, thank God he’s a scoundrel.
- 21 -
Thad
Never get in too deep.
It was a lesson his father had drilled into his core, repeating over and over and over. What made a thief great was his ability to walk away, to recognize when a limit was reached and let go. The thieves who got caught, they were the ones who’d left no way out, who knew they were going down but kept right on going. Robert and his father had been infamous, because they’d known when to stop and when to push, how to spot a trap and swerve, how to quit while they were ahead. Then his mother left, and his father forgot his own lesson. He got in too deep, and he’d dragged his son and his partner into the depths with him. And yet—Thad had always seen an endgame. He’d kept his head above water. He separated the job from his emotions, and got it done. He never doubted he’d eventually find a way out. Even when he thought Jo might go to the Feds, even when he suspected the Russians would try to kill him, even with his head flashing on every news channel in the country, there was an escape route in the back of his mind that kept him going.
Lying in that tent, watching little puffs of air blow in and out of Addison’s slightly swollen lips as she slept soundly on his chest, was the first time Thad ever felt as though he were drowning. He knew what he should do, what he needed to do, what he wanted to do—and all three paths led in very different directions.
So, he started by standing up, which was a lot more difficult than it sounded. Addison’s arm draped across his chest, and her entire body curved against his side with one leg looped around his. As soon as he moved, she released a grumbling protest in her sleep, fingers tightening around his waist. The extrication was torture, pure torture. There was nothing he wanted more than to wake her by peppering kisses to every inch of her that he may have missed the night before, but dawn was the most unforgiving sort of light, a constant reminder that their time had run out.
He tugged his jeans back on and quietly unzipped the tent, inhaling sharply as the cool breeze hit his bare skin, erasing the last vestiges of womanly warmth. That offensive pink collared shirt was still bunched on the ground outside, glistening with a layer of morning dew. Thad wanted nothing more than to bury it in the dirt. He quickly closed the tent to keep the heat in for Addison, then stepped over to the car. After pulling a black V-neck over his head, Thad turned toward that vacant cabin on the other side of the clearing and resolutely started marching. The door was locked—hardly an obstacle. He was inside within seconds, scoping out the meager surroundings. A bed. A desk. A fridge that might have some fresh food. A coffee pot—score!And the one thing he’d been looking for—a phone. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to do yet, but he knew he needed to talk to his partner.
She picked up on the second ring. “Hello? This is Jo Carter.”
“It’s me.”
Click.
Thad sighed.She is so dramatic.
A few minutes later, the phone rang, loud against the background of chirping birds, rustling leaves, and that gentle hum of peaceful silence. She was talking before he even lifted the receiver to his ear.
“Sorry about that! Nate was literally half-asleep right next to me. Do you have any idea how early it is? I told him I was going out for coffee and doughnuts—which really, he’s a cop, right? You’d think he’d be a little more excited about the idea. But noooo.” She snorted. “Anyway, what’s up? I can’t believe you didn’t email me. I taught you how to scramble an IP address for a reason!”
“I forgot,” Thad cut in smoothly.
She huffed over the line. “I honestly don’t think you or Dad ever paid attention when I spoke.”
“Jo Jo, that’s not fair,” Thad countered, unable to stop the grin coming to his lips. “We tried. It’s just as soon as you say things likecode, orfirewall, orencryption, my mind goes blank.”
“Thaddy, I showed you how to access my VPN in like two stepsandhow to hide behind a proxy server. We’re living in the digital age. You need to get with the times.”
“You say VPN, but I hear V-P-what now? Besides, a phone call works great. We’re talking right now. Much easier.”
“Yeah,” Jo commented snidely, “except for the small fact that the Feds are tracking my incoming calls and are probably wondering why I’m getting a call from— Where the hell are you, anyway?”
He sighed. “The Grand Canyon—”
“The Grand Canyon?”
“Addison wanted to go, and, well, it’s sort of a long story that wedon’thave time—”
“Is there something going on between you two?” Jo pried, as was her nature. The curiosity practically dripped from her tone, sweet and thick, like honey.
