High Voltage (Ramsey Security #3)

“Don’t you?”


“I care about those I care about. I’m not as sweet as you, Apples.”

Her hand grazes where my buttoned shirt rests open and plays with my chest hairs. “You have other qualities, I guess.”

“You guess?” I tease, opening the SUV door for her.

“I don’t want your ego getting any bigger on my account.”

“Too late. I saw your face when I made you come this morning.”

“I saw yours when you came too. That’s why I know I’m the fucking boss,” she says and laughs. “I thought you’d pass out.”

“You and me both.”

Joining her in the car, I don’t want to meet with bikers. I only want to take Minka somewhere alone and ask her questions about her life. I want to know what she likes and hates. I want to know everything there is to know about my woman.





17


Minka

So Much Testosterone

Dino and I find an Italian place in Hickory Creek that serves spaghetti with big juicy meatballs. I enjoy lunch, but he’s in heaven. When he smiles so big over something as small as a good sauce, I can’t help falling even deeper into the rabbit hole.

What would life with Dino even look like? I try to imagine a future with him while he discusses good pasta with the restaurant’s chef.

Earlier, Dino again talked about kids. He says his mom wants grandkids and would watch them all the time. Where in the hell does he figure we’ll live? No way in fucking hell will I move to New Jersey!

I like my job, but working in security, let alone as an assassin, doesn’t mix with being a mom. Troy cut back his hours once he fell in love with Darla. My old security co-worker Saskia quit altogether and now plays house with her man. Rafael rarely comes into the office and will be around less as Harlow’s pregnancy progresses. Everyone settles down, but I don’t know if I can.

“I need to make you spaghetti when we get back to Houston,” Dino says, and I realize he’s talking to me again. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll give you my mom’s secret sauce recipe.”

“I don’t like cooking.”

“Don’t worry. I like it fine, and I like eating out too. I’m an easy-going guy.”

“How easy-going? Would you be okay with no kids or one way off in the future?”

“Are you scared of childbirth?”

“I’m not particularly thrilled about something large ripping out of my vagina, no, but that’s not why I don’t want kids.”

“It’s ’cause of your mom. I know.”

“No, you don’t. It’s because I like being independent.”

Dino stops twirling pasta on his fork and frowns at me. “Don’t you like kids?”

“They’re fine, I guess.” When Dino just stares at me, I ask, “If that’s a deal-breaker, we might as well break it now.”

“Apples, you’re going to be a great mom,” he says. “Just not right now.”

“I’m nearly thirty. If I do it, I don’t want to be using a walker when I go into labor.”

“Then don’t wait that long.”

“But I don’t want to do it now.”

“And you don’t think there’s a span of time between this very second and when you’re tooling around with your walker?”

Agitated, I lean back in the chair and cross my arms. “I’m not your mom.”

“Good thing since I’m planning to fuck you after lunch.”

“I’m not going to be satisfied playing wife and mom.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.”

“You’ve been thinking about this for how long? A day? An hour? Since we sat down for lunch? Why are you making such a big deal out of something that ain’t a priority?”

“I don’t want you thinking things will happen that won’t happen.”

“And you think I won’t fall in love with you if you tell me, in this restaurant, that you won’t want to give me a couple of kids in a few years? Too late, doll.”

His words punch me in the gut. “You’re not in love with me.”

“I might be. I play things close to the vest.”

I can’t help laughing at his smug expression. “Love isn’t a choice.”

“If it was, would I pick a woman always busting my balls?”

“No, probably not.”

Dino winks at me. “You need to stop worrying about far-off things and start worrying about the meeting with those bikers tonight.”

“What’s there to worry about?”

“I don’t want you looking at them, and I don’t want them looking at you. That’s gonna make keeping up a conversation tricky.”

“I look at who I want,” I say, digging into my lasagna.

“You probably shouldn’t talk to them either. I’ll do the talking while you stare at the ceiling and think happy thoughts. No, look behind us to make sure we aren’t jumped. I don’t want your skills going to waste.”

“You need to find a way to reel in your caveman bullshit. At least when we’re working.”