Page 63 of Severed By Vengeance

Patience. I had to control myself, or else I’d follow through with my intrusive thoughts and pluck her right off this sidewalk.

Eva stiffened at the feel of my presence at her back. I ran my lips along the soft skin at her nape, and her hand shot to the holstered gun at her waist. But I quickly covered it with mine.

“Not the welcome back greeting I was expecting.” She released an audible gasp. “There it is. Miss me, angel?”

She spun around in my arms. “Derek? You sneaky bastard! Why didn’t you tell me you were back?”

Her arms came up around my neck in a hug, and I pulled her close, nuzzling into her hair and drinking her in.

“Thought it would be a fun little surprise.”

Her pretty features softened. “It is.”

She looked past me and shook her head at who I could only assume was her partner. By the time I turned around, he was closing up the side of his jacket where he’d tucked that pussy Glock 26.

Eva introduced us, and I put on my good guy act—as much as my pride would allow. He seemed uneasy, eyes unsettled, ping-ponging between the two of us. And I caught him glancing at my tattoos. Exactly as I’d predicted. While my suit was probably worth more than his whole wardrobe, and my net worth more than he’d ever see in his lifetime, he’d turn his nose up at me.

And here I almost tolerated Sam.

“Eva, how about I take this home and finish up the notes? Give you two some time to catch up or whatever.”

Maybe he wasn’t half bad.

“Sure. If you don’t mind?”

He gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his beady eyes before turning to me and putting on his best performance of loyal partner. Gathering his belongings, he gave Eva one last nod as he climbed into a white sedan.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were back stateside? What if I’d left before you got here?”

“Well, I know where to find you, don’t I?”

A smile crested her pretty lips, and she closed the gap between us, hands on my chest.

“You missed me or something, Cain?”

A loud rumble in my stomach beat me to an answer. Eva’s eyes widened with amusement, and she chuckled.

“Sorry. Haven’t had dinner yet. My flight got in two hours ago.”

She grabbed my hand while slinging a black bag over her shoulder. “There’s this cute little Mediterranean spot up the street.”

The thought of being cooped up in another enclosed space was not appealing. A 22-hour flight tended to fill the confined space quota for one day or ten. Even the short drive here had me nearly crawling out of my skin.

“I think I prefer the fresh air.”

Her face lit up with the brightest smile I’d ever seen on her.

“I know a place!”

* * *

A ten-minute walk had us in front of a street vendor, the name Big D’s Footlongs painted red on the side of the white truck.

I side-eyed her as she strung me along. “Street food? Big D’s?”

“Oh, come on, it’s a clever name. And don’t tell me you’re above food trucks.”

“Call me crazy, but I’m not a fan of food poisoning.”