Page 31

“Geez, you scared me.” She glared at him, hands on hips while her heartbeat slowly eased back to its normal rhythm.
“I told you to wait for me before you drove home.”
“I did wait for you, then I went to your office, and you weren’t there.” She crossed her arms and waited for an explanation.
“I had something to take care of.” Somehow, he’d ended up with her key fob in his hand. “Stay here.”
He stalked to her car and crouched, running his hands around the bottom of the frame, then peered underneath. Straightening, he opened her door and inspected the inside before shutting the door and pressing the fob. The locks clicked into place.
“Let me drive you home.”
Her stomach did a little flip. “Did you find something on my car? Like a bug?”
“Tracker, not bug, and no.” He glanced down at her. “It was clean.”
“If you’re that worried about this Haider guy, maybe we should do what I suggested earlier and contact the police.”
His hand curved beneath her elbow, gently tugging her forward to match his steps. She glanced back at her Prius. “What about my car?”
“It’ll be safe here for one night. And as I told you earlier, I’ll deal with Haider.” His emerald gaze lasered in on her with an intensity that made her shiver, whether from nerves or desire, she wasn’t sure.
“Fine,” she huffed. “but we need to grab something to eat on the way. My friend, Emily, said she’d be home late, and I haven’t had a chance to hit up the grocery store.”
His only response was a brisk nod.
She followed him to his dark blue Mercedes, a sleek, sexy model that suited him more than the more familiar sedan styles she saw around town. He opened the passenger door for her, and she slid onto the black leather seat.
“Where do you want to get food?” Lachlan glanced her way before pulling onto the street. The afternoon storm had cleared out, leaving damp pavement and cooler temperatures as its parting gift.
“How about Snuffy’s BBQ in Old Town? They have awesome shredded pork tacos, and I’m in the mood. We can grab some and take them to my place to eat.”
“Snuffy’s?” His dry tone paired nicely with the arrogantly arched brow.
She shook a finger at him. “Don’t judge. I think the place is named after an old-timey cartoon character, but the food is delicious.”
His lips tilted up, and his eyes warmed, causing her heart to stutter before regaining its normal rhythm. “Snuffy’s it is. Tell me how to get there.”
As they drove toward Old Town, the streets narrowed. Corporate office buildings gave way to tree-lined brick sidewalks and two-story colonial townhomes with painted brick façades in various cheery colors. They turned onto King Street, entering the historic district renowned for its eclectic boutiques and many independent restaurants reflecting cuisines as varied as the people who called the DC area home.
She noticed Lachlan’s gaze frequently returned to his rear and side view mirrors. Was he looking for Haider? She shivered. There’d been no sign of the silver BMW since this morning.
Lachlan lucked into a metered parking space two blocks from the restaurant. Sophia soaked up his solid presence by her side as they strolled down the street. He stayed to her right, positioning her on the inside. His left hand hovered but didn’t rest on her lower back.
The heat of his palm was an itch she couldn’t scratch. They might have a dangerous man watching them even now, and all she could think about was how it would feel if Lachlan spread those long fingers over the curve of her rear in a possessive grip. Moisture pooled between her thighs.
Thank goodness his focus stayed on their surroundings and not on her. She was sure her face would give away the direction of her thoughts.
They passed a man seated on the red bricks beneath the covered entrance of an upscale women’s boutique. He was young, maybe in his early thirties, dressed in worn jeans and a plaid flannel shirt, but when Sophia met his gaze, his eyes were bleary with addiction and knowledge of terrible things that couldn’t be unseen. The cardboard sign beside his tan combat boots readHomeless Vet, grateful for any help. God Bless. A black plastic tarp lay beside him, still wet from the thunderstorm that had battered the area earlier.
He looked cold, damp, and hungry. And lost.
The last time she’d given money to someone on the street, a police officer advised her to donate to a charity instead. She understood the reason—don’t feed an individual addiction—but it stabbed her heart every time. The least she could do was make eye contact and let the person know she saw them and recognized their humanity.
She tugged on Lachlan’s jacket to get his attention. “We need to buy an extra meal.”
He glanced down at her, then behind them.
What did he see when he looked at the young veteran? “Why did you join the military?” she asked.