“Hey.” He stroked a hand down her arm. “Those can be fixed.”
She nodded, but she knew bullet holes in a person were a completely different thing. Boone was becoming important to her, and the idea of him getting shot protecting her was something her brain refused to contemplate.
She suspected he’d already been shot at enough in his life.
Soon Boone was maneuvering the spare tire into position. She had to admit that there was something sexy about watching a man change a tire.
After the tire was on, Boone dropped to the ground and slid under the truck.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking for any trackers.”
She frowned at his jean-clad legs. “They can’t have a tracker on this truck.”
He grunted and slid out. He circled the truck, crouching down to check under the wheel well. “I’m worried about how the hell they tracked us so quickly.”
“Maybe they got lucky? Got a hit on facial rec somewhere.”
“Maybe.”
Once he was satisfied there were no trackers, they got back on the road. Boone stuck to the smaller roads, avoiding the highway.
After an hour, they stopped at a small gas station. Gemma hung out with Atlas, while Boone spoke with Vander on a pay phone. But she kept sneaking glances at him.
What he’d done to her on his truck…? She bit her bottom lip and pressed her thighs together. Even with all the danger around them, even with people hunting them, she wanted him to do it again.
She wanted Boone’s hands on her. She wanted to explore that tough, hard body of his.
She watched him stride back to the truck and forced her little fantasies under control. His face was blank, his jaw tight.
“Any news?”
“Yes. Your father wants to talk with you.”
Her pulse jumped, and she hurried over to the pay phone. She lifted the receiver. “Hello?”
“Gem? God, are you all right?”
Her father’s worried voice made her chest tighten. “I’m okay, Dad.”
“Your mother and I have been so worried.”
Through the line, she heard her mother sob. “It’s been pretty scary, but I’m alive. I’m not hurt. Are you two all right?”
“We’re fine, honey. We’re back in LA.”
She lifted her gaze. “I got very lucky when Boone found me.”
“Vander has sung the man’s praises. We can’t thank him enough. Look, I’ve sent a full security team and a jet. They’ll be waiting for you when you reach Denver.”
Gemma’s hand tightened on the phone. “Oh?” In just a few hours, she’d be whisked away. Away from danger.
Away from Boone.
The emotions that hit her were stronger than she expected. She hadn’t known Boone long.
This was safest for everyone. For her, and for Boone. There would be no one shooting at his truck or attacking him if she were back in California.
God, she hadn’t expected this to hurt so much.
“Stick with Hendrix, Gemma. He’ll get you to the jet. This will all be over soon.”
“Okay, Dad.” Her voice was thick.
“Gemma…I know I don’t tell you enough, but I love you. You’ll always be my baby girl.”
Now her eyes filled with tears. “I love you too, Dad. And tell Mom as well.”
“We’ll see you soon.”
She hung up the phone, then turned to face Boone. He had his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“So, my father’s sent a jet.”
Boone gave a quick nod. “Vander briefed me. We need to get to Denver as fast as we can, but stay off any major highways.”
He sounded like one of her father’s security team. Cool, detached, professional.
Pain wound around her chest. “Okay.”
“It’ll take us a little longer, but it’ll be safer. We’ll be there this evening, and I’ll take you straight to the airport.”
His voice was devoid of any emotion. Did he care? Kisses and hot moments aside, maybe he was glad to get rid of her. “Right. Did Vander say anything else?”
“Just that he and his team are still tracking who hired the mercenaries. Nothing more, yet.”
They headed back toward the truck.
“Gemma?”
She jerked her head up.
Something moved across his face, like he wanted to say something. Then he shook his head and opened the door for her.
Gemma tried to put on a brave face as Atlas jumped inside. “So, who’s in charge of picking the tunes next?” She climbed in.
Boone slid behind the wheel. “Me.” He reached over and changed it to a country station.
“Nooo.” She slapped a hand to her forehead. “These songs are always about the heartbroken man and his truck.”
He started the engine. “I know. Real music.”
She smiled, even though she felt a strange emptiness growing inside her.
Soon, this would be over.
Atlas dropped his head in her lap, and she rubbed between his ears. Both the dog and the man were going to make it very hard to say goodbye.
CHAPTER TEN
Taking the back roads added time. Night had fallen by the time they neared Denver. The city glowed in the distance, dwarfed by the shadows of the mountains behind it.
Gemma saw the signs for Denver Airport and felt like there was a rock in her stomach. Growing heavier with every mile.
She cleared her throat. “I can’t thank you enough for everything, Boone. Without you—” She shook her head. “I wouldn’t have made it.”
“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
His words filled her with warmth. But he wasn’t looking at her. Instead he stared straight through the windshield, hands clamped on the steering wheel.
The air in the truck was thick and tense. She twisted her hands together. She had no right to feel this bereft about leaving him.
“I’m sure you’ll be glad to be rid of me.”
Suddenly, he wrenched the wheel and pulled off on the side of the road.
Gemma gasped, and Atlas raised his head.
Boone reached over and opened her door. “Atlas, explore.”
The dog happily complied and jumped out. Boone stayed in her personal space, his chest rising and falling fast.
“There is no time or place where I’d be happy to be rid of you.” His tone was low, lethal.
She sucked in a breath. She wasn’t sure who moved first, him or her. It didn’t matter. In the next second, Gemma was on his lap, straddling him.
They clutched at each other, mouths clashing. She slid her hands into his hair to drag his mouth closer, while his hands dug into her ass. Her heartbeat was thundering hard, and all she could do was lose herself in the raw sensation. There was only Boone, and there was nothing between them.
She didn’t want the kiss to stop. Ever.
Then he bit down on her bottom lip, dragging a moan out of her. He broke the kiss, and she felt the harsh pants of his breath against her lips. He pressed his forehead against hers.
“I don’t want to leave,” she whispered.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“But I know it’s safer for you.”
He made a sound. “It’s not my safety I care about.”
She met his gaze. “But I do. Boone, I do.”
He cupped the side of her face. “Gemma, I’ve been broken for a long time.”