Page 72 of Defending You

Cici was watching him like she was trying to read his mind.

“I like Boston.” Aside from all the people and cars, anyway.

“That surprises me. I see you as more of a?—”

“Country bumpkin?”

That brought a laugh. “Hardly. I guess just because I know you’re from Maine, I can see you there, not in a condo but in a nice house with lots of land, lots of trees. Maybe a garage where you could tinker on…whatever it is men tinker on.”

The picture she painted was exactly what he wanted. How did she know?

She was much more insightful than he’d have guessed.

“I wouldn’t hate that. It’s just that the job is in Boston.”

“There are other jobs.”

“Well, for now, it’s where I am. I guess it’s like what you do. As long as I’m still enjoying it, I’ll keep doing it. When I tire of it, I’ll look for something else.” He peered through the glass outside, then back at her. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Get me to talk about myself. I never talk about myself. You should’ve been a detective or a trial lawyer. Prying is your superpower.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“That wasn’t a compliment. It’s the most annoying superpower I’ve come across.”

That brought a grin his mouth wanted to answer. He forced his gaze outside again. “I think the rain’s tapered off. We should go.”

She finished her drink and then went to the restroom, giving him a minute to regroup.

Not only did Cici remind him of the crush he’d apparently never gotten over, she represented everything he wanted in life. She was free and hopeful and comfortable in her own skin.

She had the kind of security he’d only ever dreamed of. And the way she talked to him, questioned him, as if she really wanted to know him, to know everything about him…

She made him long for things he’d given up on.

Being around Cici was downright dangerous.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

It was drizzling when Cici found Asher outside, shoving their shopping bags under the seat. She handed him her purse, which barely fit.

When they had been at the sporting goods store, she’d bought a thin travel pouch, the kind designed to hide a passport and cash. She’d transferred The Crimson Duchess and the rest of Grace Ballentine’s jewels to it, then strapped the pouch around her waist. She liked knowing the jewels were hidden on her body. Even if she got separated from her things, as had happened with her suitcase, she’d be able to protect Forbes’s property.

It was probably overkill, but it made her feel better. It made her believe she was doing something besides just…not getting murdered. The jewelry was her responsibility, and she would do her best to protect it.

She’d explained all of that to Asher before they’d left the restaurant. She’d expected him to ask—demand—that she hand over the pouch for him to carry, but he didn’t.

“Good idea.” He must’ve seen her surprise, because he’d added, “If I do my job and keep you safe, then the necklace will be safe too. If I fail, then who cares about the necklace?”

She cared, but she didn’t hate that he placed her value above that of a priceless treasure.

Asher handed her a poncho. “As long as I can see, we’ll press on. God willing, we’ll make it to Shadow Cove in the next few hours.”

She slid on the yellow plastic covering and secured her helmet over the hood, then climbed onto the motorcycle behind him. He’d wiped the seat, though with everything glistening with rainwater, she figured getting wet was inevitable.

It was late afternoon by the time they hit the road again. Cici stayed mostly dry, thanks to the poncho—and the fact that she was blocked from the worst of the weather by Asher’s body. But her feet got soaked, as did the lower part of her jeans. She was cold and damp and miserable. She couldn’t imagine how much worse it was for Asher. This glorified dirt bike didn’t even have a windshield.