When she squirmed against him, he automatically caught her by grabbing palmfuls of her lush backside. The move crushed her breasts against his chest. As she slid down his unflagging dick, he found her pussy with the accuracy of a heat-seeking missile. Laila writhed against him, fighting for freedom.
She only aroused him more.
Fuck, he needed to set her down or he’d be tempted to take her up against the RV—without giving a shit how much attention they drew.
Letting out a rough breath, he dropped her to her feet. Yanking the ball cap from his back pocket, he gathered her curls in hand, their soft silk spilling over his fingers. Touching her this way felt impossibly intimate until he settled the hat on her head. Then he dug the cuff key from his pocket, careful to avoid any appearance he was playing pocket pool, and uncuffed her wrist, leaving the other end attached to the door.
“We’re going in.” He enveloped her small hand in his. “Don’t let go of me and don’t leave my side.”
“Or?” Her voice was surprisingly unsteady.
Was there any chance she felt the pull between them, too?
Dream on, dude.
“I’ll hunt you down and it won’t be pleasant. But I don’t want it to come to that. We’re on the same side.”
She rolled her eyes. “In a game where it is everyone for themselves?”
He gave up on her trusting him—for now—and shut the passenger door, locking the RV with the press of a button before pocketing the keys.
Wary and watchful, he made a mental note of supplies they needed for the next handful of days on the road as they headed for the automatic double doors.
“What are you looking for?”
“Trouble,” he muttered as he snatched a cart. “Grab here.” He pointed to the handle. When she complied with a frown, he gripped the far side, still clutching her other hand between them. “Follow my lead.”
Laila was mercifully quiet as he grabbed the food and supplies necessary for the next few days, including her new burner phone and a purchase or two from the hardware section.
When he took her to the racks of women’s clothing, she refused to even look. “No.”
“You’ll get cold.”
“I will not freeze. It is Florida.”
“We’re leaving the state, remember?”
She pressed her lips together mulishly.
“Don’t you want clothes that cover more?” He gestured toward her tits and the enticing poke of her hard nipples at the front of her nearly transparent tank.
Laila shook her head. “If I do not care what is covered, why should you? You promised that you will not touch me…”
But fuck, he wanted to.
And if she was afraid of being touched, why wouldn’t she want clothes that covered her assets?
There was something going on with her…
For now, he tamped down his frustration. “Laila, if Victor sees you in these clothes, he’ll know you on sight.”
“I put an extra pair of shorts and a shirt in Jorge’s diaper bag he has not seen. I will wear those instead.”
“But that’s one change. Are you going to wear that every day?”
She nodded resolutely.
Seriously? “What if we’re on the road for a week? Or two? Maybe more?”
After all, Kane was taking Valeria straight into hiding. The bosses hadn’t told him how long to keep Laila on the road and out of view, but given the fact they were wrapped up in Kimber’s rescue, he didn’t see his marching orders changing anytime soon.
“I will be fine.”
End of conversation—as far as Laila was concerned. Whatever. They didn’t have time to argue. Besides, this was Florida. Even in January, the store didn’t sell sweats and parkas. He’d wait until they found more practical clothes. Right now, they needed to get on the road and put as much distance between her and Victor Ramos as possible.
Trees led her to the front of the store. The checkout lines were clogged, and he picked the shortest one, behind a sixty-something woman with a pair of teenage grandkids dressed in theme-park shirts, seemingly more interested in their phones than their surroundings, and braced himself for a wait. He scanned the nearby faces. The older woman sent them a kind smile.
Laila frowned, so Trees tried to act normal and smile in return. After all, she was seemingly someone’s grandma. She’d done nothing wrong.
“Are you on your honeymoon?” the silver-haired woman asked.
Trees didn’t sweat the question. Someone older and more likely to chitchat with strangers was nothing new in a state known for its snowbirds.
At his side, Laila slid him a distressed stare. Because she wasn’t used to small talk? Or nice people in general? It couldn’t be because the woman looked like a threat.
“It’s so sweet to see lovebirds holding hands,” she added. “So I assumed…”
“No,” he finally answered. “It’s not our honeymoon.”
“Vacation? Romantic getaway? Babymoon?”
Thankfully, her questions gave him an idea. “We’re seeing some of the country before our first baby comes.”
“So your wife is pregnant?” The nosy stranger sounded excited.
“Not yet, but we’re…trying.” When Laila stiffened, Trees shuffled her behind him.
She dug her nails into his back.
“Best of luck to you both.” The woman’s smile widened. “Enjoy your trip.”
“We will,” he assured.
No one else seemed to care as the woman paid for her purchases, guided her phone-obsessed grandkids toward the door, and left with a wave.
Then the cashier started slinging his items across the scanner, and a teenage boy schlepped them into bags. Because Trees was a cautious bastard, he paid cash for everything, managing to wedge Laila between him and the counter for the brief moments he needed both hands.
Once their bags were in the cart, Trees gripped Laila’s hand again and dragged her through the exit, into the brightly lit parking lot.
When they reached the RV, he cuffed her to the passenger door once more, carried the bags inside, then hopped down to return the cart to the corral.
Suddenly, Laila gasped, the sound so rife with terror he whirled to face the potential threat. The same black Mercedes from the alley—he remembered the plates—rolled slowly through the parking lot. They were looking for someone.
He’d bet that someone was Laila.
“Fuck.” Trees shoved the cart into another aisle, ducked into the lumbering vehicle, and started the engine.
Fear cascaded through Laila in a paralyzing drizzle as the sedan rolled past, two aisles in front of them. The car wasn’t parking. No one emerged to shop. Like last time, the occupants seemed to be on the hunt.
If that was Victor, how had he found her again? Why couldn’t she be free of men trying to control her life?
Without flipping on the RV’s headlights, Trees pulled out of the parking spot before the sedan made its turn onto the nearest aisle. He hugged the shadowy edge of the parking lot before disappearing behind the big-box store. Laila kept watching out the windows until the sedan, still cruising at a careful pace, dropped from sight.
“Are you wearing anything they could be tracking?” Trees demanded as he steered the vehicle out of the parking lot and engaged the headlights.