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Her groan is pure exasperation. “I’m looking for basic courtesy, Cade. Ever heard of it? When someone goes silent after you’ve dumped a metric ton of murder confessions on their head, the decent thing to do is check if they’re okay.”

I fight back a grin, watching frustration heat her cheeks. “Never said you couldn’t talk to me, princess.Iwas done chatting. You want to vent, go ahead.”

“You know what, forget it!” she snaps, her gaze back on the landscape, clearly done with me for now.

Already dreading another stretch of catatonic silence—something I’d usually welcome—I stop for gas again. Not that we need it, but an excuse to get her out. She declines my offer to buy her something from the store.

Thirty miles later, she turns to me. “Pull over at the next stop. I need something.”

“I just did—fifteen minutes ago—and you didn’t want anything.”

“Well, now I do,” she snaps,

I take a calming breath. “Alright. What do you want?”

Her lips press into a tight line as color rises in her cheeks. “It’s personal.”

I wait her out.

“I need . . . supplies,” she finally mutters, gesturing at her lap.

My gaze follows the motion, dragging down to where those soft, denim-clad thighs meet. Realization dawns, alongside a hard throb of arousal. “Really? Now?”

She squirms, rolling those dark eyes like I’m the world’s biggest idiot. “Jesus, Cade, can you stop staring? Yes, now.”

Fuck.

The throb in my cock turns savage, the reaction so visceral it catches me off guard. Why on earth Luna starting her period should turn me into a fucking bloodhound is beyond me.

“Got it.” I wrench my gaze away, fighting for a neutral tone. “There’s towels in the back. For the seat, in case—”

She shoots me a glare and I lift a hand in surrender, choking back the urge to torment her further. The blush staining her cheeks is satisfying enough.

“Alright. First stop I see.”

Minutes later, she straightens in her seat and points ahead. “There!”

My jaw clenches at the sight. The shopping strip is crawling with people—too many bodies, too many eyes. But her needs don’t give a fuck about security protocols.

I watch the crowd flow like water around the storefronts, pooling near a park across the street. The perfect cover for someone trying to melt into the background, but it also means more witnesses should anything go to shit.

I scan the layout, categorizing possible threats and exits. The lot is packed, but that works in our favor. I guide the truck to the far end, using the cluster of vehicles as a shield from the main entrance.

I kill the engine and turn to her. “So, what kind—”

“Don’t you dare,” she cuts me off with a raised finger, eyes flashing. “One word about feminine products and I swear they’ll never find your body.”

A low chuckle escapes me as I lean back in my seat. “Suit yourself. Cash is in the glove compartment.”

She flicks the lock and pulls out two twenty-dollar bills from the bundles, then moves to leave. Without thinking, my hand lands on her thigh to stop her quick exit.

Bigmistake.

The contact hits like lightning, crackling up my arm and straight to my spine. Instinct screams to break the connection before it burns too deep but I don’t.

Her sharp gasp tells me she felt it too. When those eyes flash to mine, they’re drowning pools of shock . . . and lust. The latter hooks into me, making me tighten my grip.

“Saint goes with you, princess.”