“No,” she says. “It just seems like an odd thing to think about right now.”
“Being an “almost” Boy Scout takes energy,” I reply, leaving out the part where I’m pushing her back into a sense of normal activities, which theoretically, helps create the sense of well-being and safety I want her to feel. “You are hungry, right?”
“Actually,” she says, sounding surprised. “Yes. Now that I know Kara is safe, food does sound good.” Her eyes light on mine, her hand falling away. “It better be good this time,” she teases.
Pleased my plan is working, I wink. “The almost best pizza in the world this time,” I promise, following with a mock salute. “Scout’s honor.” I punch in the number to my second favorite pizza joint in Dallas, order, and then stick my phone in my pocket. “Now we move to my room where the cameras are.” I stand and take her with me, my plan to move from a smile to laughter, in full effect. “Let me give you a ride.”
Her brow furrows. “What?”
I scoop her up and throw her over my shoulder, her yelp sounding as my hand settles on her naked, gorgeous ass. “What are you doing?” she demands. “I can walk.”
“Negative,” I say, already exiting the living area. “A Scout can never let a woman walk on her own.”
“You said you aren’t a scout,” she reminds me.
“You inspired me to be a better man.”
“And you’re crazy,” she declares, but apparently she likes crazy, because I am rewarded with the sound of her sweet, feminine laughter, which I hope like hell wipes away at least some of her tears and fears.
“So I’ve been told,” I say, entering the bedroom, and setting her down in front of the bed, catching her waist as she sways.
“Wow,” she murmurs, laughing again. “The blood rushed to my head.” She regains her balance, looking so damn hot that I just want to pull that shirt over her head and feel her close. But I don’t. Not now. Now when I know she needs answers, and I want her to have them.
“You look good in my shirt, Myla,” I say, Blake’s warnings I’d dismissed about her vulnerability charging into my mind. “Maybe too good.”
“Too good?” she asks.
“Yes,” I say. “I don’t get involved with someone I’m protecting, and while I don’t at this moment regret that, if you do later, I will. I don’t want to take advantage of your-”
“Fragile state?” she supplies. “I’m not fragile and I don’t want to be treated like it. If you start going in that direction, you and I are going to have problems.” She flattens her hand on my chest, softening her voice. “You will not be one of my regrets, unless I end up getting you killed. I couldn’t live with that, just so you know. You aren’t allowed to die.”
I cover her hand with mine. “I will say this over and over if you need to hear it. No one is dying that I don’t kill or want dead.”
“And I will welcome every time you say it, but let’s keep things real. You can’t know that.”
“But my gun can.” I pull her hand to mine and kiss it. “It’s a big gun too, sweetheart, and I have about a dozen just as big with me.”
“A dozen? That’s a lot of guns.”
“We’re dealing with a lot of assholes, which is also why we need to check the security feed before the pizza gets here.” I release her and grab the chair at the desk, turning it in her direction. “Take this one. I’ll go grab another one.”
“Great,” she says, claiming the chair. “Thank you.”
Thank you. Great. Smiles. Laughter. Amazed at how grounded and sweet she’s remained through all of this, I grab a t-shirt and head for the hallway, pulling it over my head as I walk to the office, where I grab an extra chair. Returning to the bedroom, I sit down next to Myla, tapping the computer in front of her to life, a password screen popping up.
“I locked them down while we were gone today,” I explain. “We don’t want prying eyes where they don’t belong. “2011thedaylight” is the password, all small letters.”
“Got it,” she says, keying in the code, and almost instantly adding, “It’s live. I can see the camera feed.”
“Excellent,” I say, already bringing my personal computer to life. “Now we can witness our pizza delivery up close and personal.” I open an instant message box. “And now, we talk to our team outside the hotel.”
“Who are they exactly?” she asks.
“The new family you’ve inherited from your sister,” I say, “and I’ll just tell you right now, they will absolutely overwhelm the fuck out of you, but always with good intentions.”
“Overwhelm how?”