Page 87 of Love Undercover
He snatched a key fob from the rows of hooks on the valet’s stand and reached backward for Sadie’s hand, yanking her forward when he felt her skin against his palm.
“Jeez,” she huffed.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I want to make it look like I’m forcing you. Otherwise, they might think you’re an accomplice in this whole thing.”
“Aren’t I?”
He glanced at her but said nothing. It was weird what the thought did to him.
They hurried into the parking lot, and he paced up and down the rows of flashy cars with her trailing behind, pressing the disarm button over and over again until they came to the one it belonged to.
A black Lexus. It was an expensive car, but it wouldn’t draw the eye the same way a Mercedes or a Tesla might, which was as much as he could ask for at the moment. It was his fault for using valet parking as a means of procuring a new ride.
They both slid into the sleek sedan, and he tossed the duffel into the back.
Sadie let out a low whistle. “I feel like I’m going to contaminate this thing with whatever unseen germs I collected in the last car.”
He smirked as he closed the door and started it, the engine emitting the softest purr. “Maybe you’ll feel better about it once we get you some new clothes.”
She looked down at herself with a frown. “You don’t like my robe?”
He huffed a laugh. “I like you in anything.” He made a face. “Scratch that. I like you in nothing. But if you have to be dressed, the robe isn’t half bad.”
She rolled her eyes. “Typical male response.”
“Buckle up,” he said, forcing himself to focus. If he dwelled too long on the fact that she was barely wearing anything, he’d do something that would cost them time and really contaminate the fancy car.
She pulled her belt across her body without another word, and he shifted into reverse.
41
Revelations and Remorse
They stopped outside of town, pulling into the parking lot of some kitschy tourist trap gas station.
Sadie looked for the least obnoxious t-shirt she could find and a pair of cheap leggings to change into. They were probably see-through if she bent over, but that was the least of her worries. She also managed to snag a brush and a tube of unscented lotion with less dubious ingredients. Dry skin after her second kidnapping and near-death experience was no joke. She brushed through her hair and braided it after she changed in the bathroom.
While she’d done all of that, Chase pulled around the side of the building. When she came outside, he was putting the finishing touches on a set of new license plates he apparently just kept in his duffel bag. She told herself she didn’t want to know why he had them so readily available, whipping them outfaster than she bought up the homemade tallow balm at the farmer’s market.
She settled into the front seat, feeling a little refreshed, and a lot more comfortable without the muddy, borrowed jeans and the robe as a makeshift shirt.
Chase climbed in a few seconds later, eyeing her for a second before starting the car.
“I know. I flawlessly match the caliber of fancy this car embodies.”
He snorted. “Like I said before: I’d prefer you in nothing. So it makes no difference to me.”
She shook her head, working to ignore the way that sent a thrill through her. She was already in too deep here, her body still lit up by the brand of his touch. “Alrighty. Where to now?”
“Got the address for Carl Kesterson. We’re going to drop in unannounced instead of asking for permission.” He pulled out onto the road.
Her fingers twisted into the hem of her new shirt, but she was able to keep her voice even. “You really think he will help?”
He took a deep breath, uncertainty filling the space. “We’ll find out.”
That sounded promising. “Does he know you’re undercover?”
He tipped his head, grimacing. “He probably knows nothing about me.”
