Page 61 of Hit Man

“So, what?” I reply, fully knowing what she’s asking me yet unwilling to clarify anything for her. After all, she could just be the smartest operative around. I learned long ago to never underestimate a woman. Especially a good-looking one, with eyes the color of the palest of emeralds and lips that would feel like Heaven sliding over my cock. I haven’t been in her mouth yet. Damn it, I want inside.

“Are you intentionally being an asshole or does it come natural to you?

I smile. “We can go our separate ways. Just say the word.”

She opens then closes that pretty mouth of hers. Showing a bit of restraint. Smart woman.

“Be prepared to,” I add as an afterthought. “If Mendoza’s men come barreling down the road, we’ll part.”

“What if I feel safer staying with you?”

“Too bad.”

“Asshole.”

I sigh. “Think, honey. They’ll have to split up in order to catch both of us.”

“First, I am not your honey.”

I roll my eyes. “Sweetheart?”

“Fuck you.”

“Okay, baby.”

She stiffens. Man, she’s easy to rile up. And I’ve got years of experience doing just that to people.

“And don’t call mechavita, either.”

“Fine with me,chava.”

“Asshat.”

“That the best you got,mamacita?”

She kicks a stone.Yeah, no winning with me. Lesson learned, Aubrey.

“You said ‘first’ . . . first, you’re not my honey. What’s second?” I prompt.

She sighs. “It’s obvious Juan Carlos is after me.” Her head turns toward me. “But is it you they really should be after?”

Bingo.

“Why? Did you steal their drugs? Set up Little-Man to take the fall?” She winces at her word choice. Whoever had been searching for us on the other side of the driveway had a crash course in bad luck.

It could have been me gunned down.

It could have beenher.

It’s allherfault.

“I think you owe me an explanation. I was nearly killed. I’m beat up, sore, and frazzled. And I’m thirsty.”

Thirsty. Fuck, a Corona or two sounds perfect about now. I’ll get a buzz on before getting my shit handed to me by Hayden. As far as water, it’s not like I packed for this hike back to Mexico City.

“The less you know about me, the better,” I say gruffly, and pick up the pace. This time not waiting for her to catch up.

“Ass-munch,” she curses behind me.