In Seconds (Bulletproof 2)

She turned so he couldn’t read the conflict in her eyes. “Just keep your promise.”

“My promise?”

“Find someone else for your next encounter.” Tears blurred her vision. She did her best to hide them while she put on her shoes. But he wouldn’t let her withdraw that easily. He took her arm and pulled her closer.

“I don’t understand you,” he whispered.

She couldn’t explain. Neither could she stop the tears from rolling down her cheeks. She wanted to bury her face in his chest, beg him to hold her until she felt strong enough to face the world again. She didn’t need sex. She didn’t need anything except a shoulder to cry on. But she couldn’t even ask for that.

He used his thumbs to wipe her tears. “You think it was your ex-husband, don’t you.”

Stepping back, she pressed her palms to her eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“For some weird reason, you think he’s here and he killed Pat. That’s all I can figure. You’ve been acting so strange since the murder.”

He was getting too close to the truth. “I don’t think it’s my ex.”

“Then why do you need a gun?”

His mention of her gun reminded her that it was still on the table. Reclaiming it, she shoved it into the waistband of her jeans again. “Because there’s a killer on the loose.”

“But why would he be more interested in you than anyone else?”

“For all I know, he’s not.”

“Then it wouldn’t be that big a deal if I confiscated your weapon.”

“Sorry. You had your chance earlier.”

His eyebrows shot up at her refusal. “If I decide to take it, you won’t have any choice.”

Frustrated with herself for crying, and for letting him see it, which was worse, she wiped her cheeks and threw back her shoulders. “Then you’ll just have to do what you have to do.”

Chuckling without humor, he shook his head. “Why does everything have to be so difficult with you?”

“It won’t be difficult if you keep your distance.”

He grabbed his shirt and yanked it on, but he didn’t insist she hand over her gun—thank God. “Give me his name.”

“Whose name?”

“Your bastard ex-husband’s.”

“No.”

“I already have his initials. TH, right? That’s what’s on your arm. Or maybe it’s FH. Tell me the rest. Let me check him out, see what he’s done and where he’s at. Maybe I can put your mind at rest.”

“No one can put my mind at rest. This is over. I have to get back to my children,” she said, and walked out.

No one can put my mind at rest. What did she mean by that? And why was she so damn secretive about her past?

The whole ride home, Myles wondered about those two questions. He could feel Vivian on the back of his bike, trying not to touch him, and it upset him—enough that he took the turns a little more sharply than usual just to make her cling to his waist. He hated that they’d argued, that the night hadn’t brought either of them the satisfaction they craved. But he couldn’t say this came as a surprise. She’d warned him not to get involved with her. Hell, he’d even warned himself.

You deserve this, ass**le. He knew it was true. He’d dived in with his eyes wide open. But he’d said no last night and walked the floor for hours because of it, which hadn’t felt a heck of a lot better. Problem was, there didn’t seem to be any way to win with this woman. He wanted someone he should leave alone.

Shit… He’d been telling the truth when he said he was angry. He was angry—at her because she couldn’t make what they were feeling as simple as he wanted it to be, at himself for not being able to avoid getting tripped up by desire and at her ex-husband because he had to be the reason she was so afraid to trust.

Tonight had changed one thing, though. Myles was going to find out what really happened in Vivian’s past. Maybe she wouldn’t tell him her ex’s name, but he could start with hers and backtrack from there. He wanted to find the man who’d damaged her life, to hear what that man had to say for himself. Curiosity was quickly turning into a driving compulsion to reach the truth.

When he pulled into his driveway, Vivian hopped off the bike and removed her helmet. He got the impression that she would’ve put it on the ground and dashed off to her house with barely a goodbye if she could get away with it. But she had to collect her children.

He removed his own helmet. “You coming in? Or do you want me to carry the kids over?”

She nibbled on her bottom lip. “If they’re asleep, maybe we could leave them until morning. Would that be possible?”

This surprised him. She never let her children spend much time at his place, used any excuse she could to drag them away. “That’s fine.”

“They might get you up early…?.”

Leaning the bike to one side, he lowered the kickstand and got off. “Won’t bother me. I have to get up early, anyway.”

She scanned the street, then studied his house, which was dark except for the porch light glowing over the stoop like a full moon. “I’m sure they’re asleep.”

“It’s after midnight.”

“And they’ll be safe here.”

They were back to her obsession with safety. “I won’t let anything happen to them.” He wanted to tell her he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, either, but he knew she wouldn’t believe him.

“If they wake up and want me—”

He lifted the garage door and put the helmets away before rolling the bike inside. “They’ll be fine. I know where to find you if they need you.”

With a nod, she took off the jacket he’d lent her and gave it back to him. “Okay. Thanks. Bring them over as soon as you get up, no matter what time it is. I don’t want to put you out.”

He wished she’d stay over, too. Maybe then they could arrive at a sense of closure about tonight. They seemed to have so much unfinished business. But even if he could talk her into it, which he doubted, he wasn’t ready to sleep with another woman in the house where he’d lived with Amber Rose. That would be too strange, something he wouldn’t risk with Marley home, anyway. And yet it felt odd when Vivian thanked him politely and edged away as if they hadn’t made love several times.

“Hey!” he called.

She stopped at the edge of the grass. “Yes?”