“What about background noises or other voices?”
“Sorry. I don’t remember.”
“What did Uncle Charlie tell you?”
“He told me I was doing the right thing and assured me that Mia would be placed in a loving home.”
“Can I get those phone numbers from you?” Evangeline held her breath. Bethany was under no obligation to turn them over.
“I’ll text them to you.”
She gave Bethany her number and her phone binged with the incoming text.
“The first number is Uncle Charlie,” said Bethany. “The second is Pete.”
Evangeline glanced at the numbers. Both had Maryland area codes. Though grateful Bethany had been willing to talk to her, she’d hoped to learn something new. “Thanks for your time and for the phone numbers. How’s your baby doing?”
“She’s good. Being a mom is hard work, but my mom and dad are super supportive. I’m going back to college part-time next semester.”
Evangeline rose. “I wish you all the best.”
She and Sin showed themselves out. Evangeline stopped in front of her car. “Thanks.”
He stepped close and her body hummed with excitement. “You didn’t get much.”
“I got two numbers,” she said, peering into his eyes.
“Where’s your coat?” he asked.
“Long gone in the fire. I keep forgetting to borrow one from Hannah.”
“Have a drink with me.”
She needed to put some space between them. “Sure.” Dammit. She had no self-control when it came to this man. None whatsoever. She held his gaze for an extra beat. “Where to?”
“My place. Purely for the vodka.”
Her pulse kicked up and she arched her eyebrow. I won’t be able to keep my hands off him. “Nice try. We’ll go to a bar.”
“I make a mean vodka tonic.” He pulled on his helmet and she fought the urge to tug him close.
“Uh, no.”
“Okay, then. Sullivan’s in Georgetown. Follow me.” He flashed her a smile before swaggering toward his bike, parked at the curb. He slipped his leather overpants over his dress pants, then shrugged into his leather jacket.
I’m beginning to think I’d follow you anywhere.
A light rain had started and she called out, “You want to leave your bike and ride with me?”
He gave her a thumbs-down sign before straddling the machine and starting the engine. She jumped into her car and followed. As he pulled onto the main road, she flipped on her windshield wipers. When she glanced in her rearview mirror, a truck’s high beams temporarily blinded her. Lower your damn lights.
Sin slowed for a light and she pulled up alongside him. He glanced over and the red traffic lights illuminated his face. His undeniable beauty and power made her want to confess the truth. I’m crazy about you.
He’d stepped up to help her, putting her first above all else. He believed in her innocence and was doing whatever it took to prove that. How much longer can I act like I don’t have feelings for him? Tell him the damn truth.
The light changed and he shot ahead. She wasn’t even going to try to catch him. Her thirteen-year-old SUV didn’t have anywhere near the acceleration of the Ducati. He veered onto the parkway. As she drove onto the entrance ramp, the truck pulled up so close behind her, she wanted to slam on her brakes just to get him off her tail. “Back the fuck off.”
Sin had slowed, letting her catch up. That’s when the truck moved to the passing lane. “Good. Stay over there.”
The rain started coming down harder, so she increased the windshield wipers’ speed. After several miles, the truck accelerated past her. It was an Easy Does It moving truck.
As the truck paralleled Sin, it veered sharply into his lane, forcing him off the road. The Ducati slammed against the Jersey wall, ejecting Sin into the air and over the wall.
Jesus! No! Evangeline hit the brakes and swerved onto the shoulder. Her heart was pounding out of her chest. Bolting out of the car, she stared blindly into the darkness below.
“Sin! Sin!” she screamed. “Sinclair!”
BAM!
Sin hit the water hard before going under. His riding boots and leather pants weighed him down, but the leather jacket had inflated, pulling him back to the surface. Flailing in the frigid water, he struggled to catch his breath. Get the fuck out!
Evangeline was screaming his name, but he couldn’t respond. All his efforts were focused on finding a tree branch or rock. Despite the dark skies and black water, he grasped a branch. It snapped and he became untethered again. Not giving up, he found a sturdier one and clung to it as the icy waters rushed past him.
“Sinclair!” Her voice was a godsend.
“Here!”
Using the flashlight on her phone, she found him. Then, she extended a large tree limb in his direction. As soon as he grabbed hold, she tugged him onto the rocky embankment. All he could do was lie there, exhausted, freezing, and gasping for air.
Though breathing hard, she said, “Sinclair, talk to me.” Her steady voice helped calm him.
“I’m okay…I think.”
Despite her efforts, she couldn’t pull him to his feet. Between his soaked clothes and his massive frame, she couldn’t budge him.
Get up. Get the fuck up.
Mustering all of his strength, he struggled to his hands and knees. She grabbed him under his arms and helped him to his feet. Then, she threw her arm around him and, half dragged, half supported him up the short, but steep embankment to her SUV.
After throwing open the passenger door, she said, “Your clothes are soaked. We’ve gotta get them off.”
Despite the shivers that wracked him, he smirked. “You first.”
“Smart ass.”
Cars whizzed by, but no one stopped to help. Strangely, he was thankful. He did not want the cops involved. Not this time. Working as fast as they could, she helped him strip. Then, she tossed everything onto her back seat. He stood naked, shivering uncontrollably.
She wrapped him in a blanket before buckling him into the passenger seat, jumping behind the wheel, and turning the heat up full blast. “The lengths you’ll go to get me to your place.” She hit the gas and pulled onto the parkway, passing his crushed Ducati on the shoulder.
Heat warmed the car but he couldn’t stop shaking. He gave her directions and she exited the parkway, crossed Key Bridge, and wove her way into his neighborhood. Once in his driveway, she cut the engine. “You live here?”
“Yeah.” He opened the door. His head hurt and, as the fog began to lift, fury set in. Had someone deliberately run him off the road?
In seconds, she was by his side, offering an assist. At his front door, she asked, “Alone?”
“Last I checked. Door code is 9998.”
She tapped it in, the dead bolt clicked open, and they went inside. Lights illuminated the foyer, triggered by the motion-sensor system. The security alarm started beeping and he punched in the code to silence it.
“Let’s get you into the shower,” she said.
Once upstairs, he dropped the blanket onto the marble floor. After flipping on the faucet, she ran her hands down his chest. “You’re an ice cube. Turn around and let me check you for bruises.” He studied her in the mirror as she gave him the once-over.