Page 27 of Hunted

Before he could answer that for himself, the bells over the front door jangled and in walked Devin, talking on his cell phone. He gave Clint a small wave as he finished up his conversation then tucked his phone away.

“Hey, buddy,” Devin said, his drawl as slow as his steps. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” They were friendly, but not so friendly that Clint would spill his guts about what had gone on between him and Leila. Devin’s commentary on his situation was the last thing he needed. It was already bad enough that he couldn’t stop thinking about her and Thomas, reliving all the memories of the last few days like some sappy movie in his head on endless loop. He gave a one-shoulder shrug and kept on with his inventory. “You come to shoot today?”

“I did.” Devin grinned. “Hate to lose my touch. You got room in the range?”

“No one else here yet.” Clint set his clipboard aside and grabbed the keys from behind the counter. Devin followed him toward the back of the store. Flipping on the lights in the range, Clint gazed around taking a deep breath. It was probably all his imagination, but he swore he still smelled a hint of Leila’s spicy scent in the air. They’d been the last two people in here. Shoving that thought aside with great determination, he set up a stall for Devin. “Usual rate applies. Just let me know when you’re done.”

He’d almost made it back into the shop when Devin said from behind him, “Where’s the pretty lady?”

“Gone.” Getting out just that one word was hard.

“Gone? Like out of your life gone?” Devin asked.

“That’s what I said,” Clint gritted out.

“That blows. Wanna talk?

“About what?” Clint scowled as he turned around.

“You know. Her.”

“There is noher. Not anymore.” He put his hands on his hips and stared down the other man.

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Devin pulled out his firearm from the holster at his waist and chambered a round. “Whatever you say, buddy. But she clearly meant something to you.”

“Fuck off,” Clint said to his friend, though the words lacked any heat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know I’ve seen you in here with that woman every day for a while,” Devin said. “And now you say she’s gone. Andyoulook like someone kicked your puppy. Moping around, sad and sorry. If those aren’t symptoms of a broken heart, I don’t know what is.”

The fact Devin was right didn’t improve Clint’s disposition any. “Whatever, man. I don’t need a woman in my life. I’m happy where I’m at. Love and kids only complicate things.”

Devin stared at him a long moment, then said, “Yep, you’re probably right. Guy like you, a lone wolf? You got no business with a wife and a kid. You’re better off without ’em. Nothing but trouble, those two. Could tell it from the start.”

Frowning, Clint leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, feeling oddly defensive now. It was one thing for him to lament his time with Leila and Thomas. Quite another for someone else—someone who had no idea what had transpired or how deep their feelings went—to judge them. “She wasn’t trouble. Neither was Thomas. They were in a bad situation, and I helped them out of it. Everyone’s got problems to deal with. Don’t make her into something she’s not. Leila’s smart and funny and kind and?—”

Devin’s slow grin clued Clint into the fact that he’d just been played. “She is, huh? Sounds pretty wonderful. Like maybe a treasure. Dude, what you’re describing is what most guys, including me, want. Be a shame to let that go in my estimation, lone wolf or not.”

With a reproachful look at Devin, Clint walked back into the shop. Dammit. He hated to admit it, but maybe letting Leila and Thomas go off on their own without telling her how he felt was a mistake. He closed his eyes and remembered their goodbye when he’d dropped her off at the airport. She’d given him a quick, hard hug with tears in her eyes and yearning in her expression. At the time, he’d put it down as wistfulness for home and the stress of the day. But what if it hadn’t been that at all? What if she’d changed her mind about needing time away? What if she’d wanted to stay here, in Vegas, with him instead?

And he hadn’t so much as asked her to stay. Would she have considered being with him if he’d just had the balls to ask?

The knot between his shoulder blades that had been there since he’d first gotten her text about Mike’s arrival at her apartment tightened even further, sending sharp pains down his arms and sharpening his resolve.

He glanced up at the clock. Ten forty-five. Her flight was scheduled to depart at quarter to twelve. One hour away. He could make it. Just. It was a damn good thing being a SEAL had taught him to think on his feet—or behind the wheel.

Clint grabbed the keys to his truck from behind the counter then rushed back to push open the door to the gun range, catching Devin while he reloaded his magazine. “Hey, can you watch the shop for me for a while? I have someplace I need to be.”

His friend gave him a nod and a smile. “Sure thing, buddy. Go get her.”

Leila sat at the gate for her flight at McCarren Airport, doing her best to keep Thomas occupied. The air smelled of coffee from the kiosks nearby and the sounds of slot machines jangling echoed off the walls. She felt almost as restless as her son was and had to prevent herself from jumping up and pacing. She missed her mother, but honestly, she’d miss Vegas, with its lights and excitement and belief that luck was just around the corner even more.

Most of all, though, she’d miss Clint.

As if reading her thoughts, Thomas held out the plastic car he’d been running over the seat next to her to point at one of the numerous happy couples strolling by on the concourse. One man with a muscular build and light brown hair had caught his attention. “Sint, Sint,” Thomas chanted.

Her heart fluttered. That was the way he said Clint’s name. It hit her like an arrow to the chest. They’d known him such a short time, but it seemed she wasn’t the only one who’d gotten attached. Leila’s eyes stung with unshed tears. It was stupid. So, so stupid. She’d thought she’d wanted to get away from it all, but now…

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