My Killer Vacation — Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Taylor

hat is he doing?” I ask, staring outside the“W front of our rental house.

We’re packed, ready to leave, suitcases by the front door.

We were preparing to load the luggage into the trunk of my car when I spotted Myles across the street, sitting on his bike. Or more like…waiting? Helmet in lap, arms crossed over the powerful breadth of his chest. A duffel bag

is secured to the rear of his seat.

What is hedoing?

Is he waiting to say goodbye?

There is no way I’m holding him to the promises he made last night. Those were words soaked in adrenaline and residual fear. Promises he made because he feels protective of me and I was in danger. Now that the sun has come up, I’m sure he’s back to his bounty hunter mindset.

Quick, no-strings jobs are what he wants. If he doesn’t get attached, he can’t get hurt.

“Maybe you should go out and talk to him?” Jude

suggests.

I could. I should.

I’m just not sure I’m prepared to hear goodbye. Because despite my best intentions, the things he said to me last night in that passionate tone of voice…they might have given me a teeny tiny bit of hope. Dangerous, stupid hope.

Ignore it.

“Let’s go. We want to beat the traffic.”

I pick up my suitcase, hesitate in front of the door and push it open. When Jude passes me, I close the door behind him, lock it and leave the key for Lisa under the large ceramic starfish on the porch. On my way to the car, I frown at the biker across the street. “Good morning,” I call, handing my suitcase to Jude so he can lift it into the trunk.

“We’re getting a jump on the traffic. Back toConnecticut.”

He nods at me.Nods. But says nothing.

Then he puts on his helmet and the bike roars to life.

Huh. So he’s not even going to say goodbye? Maybe we’re taking the easier route of parting ways without any of the messy apologies or lies that we’ll call each other.

Fine. I’ll follow his lead. Never mind that my heart is withering like a grape left too long on the vine.

I crank the volume on the AM traffic station and back out of the driveway, my eyebrows drawing together when Myles follows our next three turns. Just a coincidence.

We’re both heading toward the interstate, obviously.

When we reach the interstate, Myles takes the same ramp. Same direction.

He barely leaves enough room between us for other cars

to merge.

I switch lanes, he switches lanes.

“Is hefollowing me?”

A laugh bursts out of my brother. “It took you way too long to figure that out.”

“All the way back to Hartford? Uh-uh. No way.”

“All the way to your front door, Taylor. Youknow that’s what’s happening.” Jude turns in his seat to observe Myles through the rear window, grinning ear to ear. “Admit this is

romantic.”

“No,” I say, breathily. “It’s not.”

“He sacrificed himself for you on the beach last night and now he’s literally tailing you home.” Jude drops his voice and switches to an Australian accent, as if he’s narrating the Discovery Channel. “This appears to be some kind of unique bounty hunter ritual, Taylor. Be mean to the potential mate as long as possible, then wife her when she least expects it.”

Oh God. My lower lip trembles a little bit. That smidgen of hope he lit inside of me last night is growing…and that’s dangerous. This whole idea is dangerous and stupid. “That is not what is happening here. He’s just making sure I don’t trip on the way home and land in the lap of a serial killer or something.”

“You’re not getting knifed. You’re getting wifed.”

I wring my hands on the steering wheel. “He changed his mind too fast. If he came and stayed with me, he would

regret it eventually.”

“You know him better than I do, but he doesn’t strike me as fickle.”

“No. He’s not.” I chew my lip, my eyes continually straying to his giant, helmeted figure. “But he still has all these unresolved issues with his family.”

“Everyone on this highway has unresolved issues with their family,” he responds without a second’s hesitation.

“Didn’t you say he called his brother?”

“Yes. Because I reminded him…because…”

“You reminded him what love feels like.”

“That was the adrenaline talking.”

Jude clearly wants to argue with me, but we spend the next few minutes in silence—save the rumble of the motorcycle engine behind us. “Look, I’m with you, T,” my brother says, finally. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll back you up. If you want to pull over and tell him to get lost, that’s what we’ll do.”

I swallow hard. “That’s what I want to do. It’s for his own good. He has a sense of misplaced responsibility for me and I’m going to set him free.”

“Okay, cool. Let’s do it.” He squints at the approaching highway sign. “Pull over somewhere I can get coffee.”

After driving another three exits, I spot some golden arches and take the off-ramp. Waiting to see if Myles will follow, my throat turns dry and my pulse moves at a breakneck pace. There is no mistaking the relief that washes over me when he guides his bike off the highway after us.

Okay. I can do this. I can be strong, rip off the Band-Aid and do what’s best for myself, as well as Myles. I’m definitely not going to get evenmore attached to this man, just so he can blaze off into the sunset in a month or two, tired of my crying jags and thrifty habits. That would absolutely kill me. I’ve only known him for five days and the prospect of never seeing him again was nearly unbearable.

What would it be like after weeks? Months?

No. I’m not going to find out.

When I pull into the McDonald’s parking lot, Jude turns to me. “Do you want me here when you give the speech?”

“No. I can do it alone.” I take a deep breath. “Get me an iced coffee, please. I’m going to need it.”

“That’s probably an understatement.”

I don’t get a chance to ask my brother what he means by that ominous statement, because Myles rumbles into the spot beside me, switches off his engine… And then he takes off his helmet, tossing back his mane of sweaty hair, biceps flexing as he hangs it over the handlebar. He grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it, swiping sweat from his brow and briefly exposing his thick, muscle-packed stomach. Those sharp ridges shift with his movements, covered in a light sheen of perspiration.Oh my.

When my view of Myles is obscured, I realize my breath is fogging the window.

Shaking myself, I exit the car on suddenly gelatinous legs. I clasp my hands together at my waist and straighten my spine, as if I’m getting ready to address the parents on

back-to-school night. “Myles, this is simply not necessary —”

A big hand settles on my hip, cutting me off. Scorching me through my dress.

“Come here,” he says in a low voice, drawing me forward. “I like what you’re wearing.”

“Oh.” My right hip meets his inner thigh and a hot shiver wracks me, blazing a path through my belly and straight down to my toes. “I…um. Thanks, but—”

“These aren’t vacation clothes, are they? They’re regular

life clothes.”

“Correct.”

He leans in to peer at my neckline, so close I can taste the salt of his sweat on my tongue. My nipples tighten in response. Quickly. Painfully. And so, when he says, “Are those little pearls sewn into the collar?” in that guttural tone of voice, I almost climb up on that very large, very sinewy thigh and scandalize the McDonald’s parking lot.

“I…yes. I suppose they are.”

“Mmm.” He fists the material of my dress and tugs gently until my breasts are a mere inch away from his chest. “Should I expect you in prim and proper dresses like

this year-round?”

I don’t understand the question.

I’m too busy counting the grains of his stubble. Even his ears are attractive. Why have I never taken the time to notice hisears before? Heat rolls off his big shoulders in my direction, making it necessary to curl my fingers into my palms before I do something unwise like trace the swell of his pectorals or brush back his long hair.

“What you’re thinking is in no way showing on your face, Taylor,” he says gruffly.

“Good,” I respond briskly. Until those words actually penetrate. “I mean…what?”

He uses his grip on my dress to tug me close, laying his mouth against my ear. “You’re beautiful, sweetheart. You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Okay.” I’m shaking, hot moisture held at bay by the backs of my eyelids. “But you can’t just keep following me, Myles.”

“Taylor?” He captures my mouth in a long, hard kiss.

“I’m going to keep following you.”

“Oh.” I stare at his perfect, one-of-a-kind mouth, wondering how I can get a little more action out of it.

Without committing to anything, of course. This whole situation is ludicrous. “Well, I guess we can discuss this in Connecticut and you can leave from there.”

“We can discuss whatever you want. But I’m not leaving.”

How can I still want to climb onto his lap when he’s being so obstinate? “Have you been this stubborn the

whole time?”

“Yes. Just not about the right things.”

“What does that mean?” I murmur, heart fluttering.Stop fluttering. Please.

“It means, I should have been less damn stubborn when pushing away the best thing that ever happened to me.”

His voice resonates with sincerity and regret. “And more

stubborn about locking her down.”

“I’m n-not property to be locked down.”

“I am. I’m your property.” His lips skim my jawline.

“Inside and out.”

“Huhhh,” I whimper, embarrassingly, gravitating closer despite my best intentions, biting my lip to trap another second humiliating sound when my breasts flatten against his hard chest. “I appreciate all of this. You…saying things.

Nice things.” Oh my God. Speak coherently. You’re a teacher. “I’m just worried you’re jumping into this relationship too fast and that you’ll regret being so hasty down the road.”

I’m arrested by his sudden grin. “You called it a

relationship.”

“Don’t focus on that part.”

“I’m laser focused on it, Taylor.” His grin fades into a serious expression. “We experienced more in five days than most people experience in a year together. We got to know each other’s strengths and weaknesses and fears and dreams. Fast. And I’m drawn to every single piece of you.

Everything that makes you Taylor. By the grace of God, you’re drawn to me, too, or you wouldn’t be halfway into my lap right now in a McDonald’s parking lot. Wave at the nice family, sweetheart.”

With a wince, I turn to find a Happy Meal toting family of five hustling to their station wagon through the parking lot. The mother is covering her youngest child’s eyes and shaking her head at me. “There’s a time and a place, folks,” she calls.

“Sorry!” I put several inches of space in between me and Myles, smoothing the new wrinkles from my dress while he chuckles. “As I was saying…”Was I saying something?

Myles’s mouth is still twitching, so much affection in his eyes that I feel another lip tremble coming on. “I’m coming over, Taylor. To your place.” He rakes a set of fingers through his hair. “Maybe right now a relationship sounds crazy to you. Maybe you need to see me there to believe it’s happening.We’re happening.”

“You think if I see you in my kitchen…I’ll be more

inclined to believe this could work.”

“It’s a start.”

“Maybe you’re just trying to get me into bed.”

He laughs without humor. “I need you in bed so bad, I could barely zip up this morning.”

“Wow.” Jude comes to a stop beside me, shaking my ice coffee until I reach for it. “Really feels like I’ve been an intimate part of this process. About ready to bow out, though.”

Face flaming, I fumble with my free hand for the driver’s side door handle. “I guess I’ll see you in Connecticut, then.”

“Damn right you will,” Myles says, putting his helmet back on.

Jude waves his coffee. “Please drop me off first.”

t’s already working.I Just watching Myles park in one of the guest spots in my complex makes everything between us feel real. He’s here. He’s not a figment of my imagination. Of course, just like anywhere else Myles goes, he dwarfs everything around him. People in the lot. Even the cars

seem tiny in comparison. But he doesn’t seem to be noticing anything but me. He crosses the lot in my direction, duffel bag thrown over one ox-like shoulder, determination hardening every line of his body—and I can already feel myself caving. We aren’t eveninside yet.

“So…” I start to lift my suitcase out of the trunk, but he does it for me. With one finger. Is that supposed to impress me? Because it does. “Thank you. So…” I wave my car keys in the direction of the guest lot. “That’s where you would

park.”

“Would.”

“Uh-huh.” I walk ahead of him, unlock the gate and take one flight of stairs up to my apartment. And I only drop my keys twice because of the ferocious way he’s looking at my butt. I also drop them to delay the moment this colossal bounty hunter enters my boho chic living space with his size thirteen steel-toed boots and remembers we’re nothing alike. And leaves. Back to his nomadic, commitment-free life.

“You need some help unlocking the door, Taylor?”

“No, I’ve got it.”

“Your hands are shaking.”

“I’m cold.”

He’s kind not to point out that it’s July and eighty degrees. Finally, I get the door open and he follows me inside, stepping in so I can close the door behind him.

There is enough sunlight that I don’t need to turn on any lamps, so I fuss with the thermostat, instead, getting the air

flowing. “Taylor.”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.” I do what he asks, watching him set down my suitcase, followed by his duffel bag. Slowly. “This is me inside your door.”

My stupid heart crawls up into my throat. All I can do is nod.

He toes off his boots. Crosses the room to me and takes my hand, leading me into the kitchen. “This is me at your refrigerator.” He raps his knuckles on the appliance and smirks at me. “I’ll be here a lot.” My laughter is winded. He leans down, studies my face closely, then kisses the sound off my mouth very thoroughly. “I’ll cook for you.”

“When you’re here?”

“What do you mean?” he asks patiently, facing me.

Almost like hewants me to ask questions.

“I mean…you’d be on the road a lot,” I say, wetting my lips. “Doing jobs. Didn’t you say they take weeks sometimes? Therefore, you would cook on the infrequent occasions that youare here.”

He hums in his throat. “I see your point. Guess bounty hunting is out.”

I must have misheard him. “Sorry, what?”

“I guess I’m done bounty hunting,” he says, brushing back my hair. “I’m not spending weeks at a time away from you, Taylor. No fucking way. I want to be here. With you.”

“But…”

“But what? You think I’m jumping into this without any thought or preparation?” He props a forearm above my head on the fridge, his free hand playing with the ends of my hair. “Remember the private investigation firm I was planning to open with my brother? We spent the night

working on the details. He’s going to run the Boston end.

I’m going to find some office space and work from here.

We’ll cast a wider net this way. He’s already signed on a few retired detectives who need some action.”

Every inch of my body is buzzing. Goosebumps are springing up everywhere. I’m barely capable of breathing.

“You…so you’re actually…”

“Moving here.” He tilts his head. “I thought that was clear.”

“You left out a lot of particulars,” I manage.

“I figured we’d get around to them.” Both of his hands fall to my hips, squeezing them roughly while he makes a sound in his throat. “Show me the rest of your place.”

“Um. Where?”

His lips twitch. “How about the bathroom?”

“Okay.” I slide out from between Myles and the fridge, moving on trembling legs down the hallway to the bathroom, flipping on the light. I gesture for him to step inside and he does—but he pulls me with him. Positions me at the sink, facing the medicine cabinet mirror.

“This is me in your bathroom,” he says into my hair, his fingertips trailing up and down my bare arms. “Can you see us brushing our teeth together here in the mornings?”

I tilt my head consideringly. As if I don’t want to scream yes.

As if I’m not a millisecond from launching myself into his arms and never letting go.

When I don’t answer right away, he leans back a little and strips off his shirt. “How about now? This is more accurate since I sleep naked.”

Brain meltdown. “You do?”

“You will, too, Taylor.” He dips down behind me and comes up flush, his lap to my butt, that hard part of him parting my cheeks through the material of my dress. We both moan, two sets of hands clutching at the edge of the sink. “If we’re going to share a bed—and by if, I mean when —you’ll be too worn out to wear anything but whisker burns and the top sheet.” He elevates me onto my toes, his warm breath puffing onto my neck. “How are you doing visualizing me here now, sweetheart? Starting to seem real

yet?”

“Starting to. Yes.”

I’m watching his face in the mirror and witness the blaze of relief. The way his breath shudders out as if he’s been holding it since the parking lot. “Thank God. That’s something.” He turns me around to face him. “I know this is moving fast, Taylor. I’m going to get an apartment close by, so I don’t scare the hell out of you. I’m coming on too strong? You throw me out for the night. But I’ll be here as much as you want me here. And then one day, we’ll merge your fringed throw pillows with my functional man shit and we’ll be in one place. Our place. When you’re ready.”

There is no way I’m letting him rent an apartment, but I don’t get a chance to tell him that. Because his mouth is on mine and he’s walking me out of the bathroom, down the remainder of the hallway and into my bedroom, matching me step for step. Before we can crash down onto the bed with Myles on top, he breaks the kiss and lifts his head, looking around the room. Taking a deep inhale. Of the room, then my neck. “Apples.”

I lean in and rub my nose on his throat. “Sweat.”

His deep chuckle makes me shiver. “Better work on that.”

“No.” I let him peel my dress off over my head. “I like it.”

He unhooks the front clasp of my bra, pushing it open on a groan and kneading my breasts in his hands, head falling forward as if he’s been desperate to touch them. “You should like it. You’re the reason I’m sweating all the time.”

“Who, me?”

“Yeah you,” he says, gruffly. Pausing in the act of thumbing my nipples. “This is me in your bedroom, Taylor.

Can you see me here?”

“Yes,” I whisper, shaken down to the ground by what I feel for this man. How is it possible that he wasn’t in my life a week ago? Now that I’m letting myself believe this is real, a wealth of emotion rushes in and chokes my next breath. “I can see you here.”

His eyes close briefly, chest dipping and rising dramatically. “Good.”

In a flash, my back is pressed to the mattress and his hard, heavy body is coming down on mine, our mouths moving feverishly together while he works my panties down to mid-thigh, pushes them down past my knees, where I hook my toe into the waistband and drag them off completely. Our hands clash in an effort to unzip his jeans, my core throbbing for him. Needing him. Weeping over having been without him so long. “Wet, baby?” he asks in between mind scrambling kisses, his hardness finally, finally springing out into my waiting palm.

Transferring to his, mid-stroke.

“Yes,” I gasp—and he enters me in a mighty shove, shouting my name into my neck while my cry of his name resonates in the hazy bedroom, the headboard cracking hard off the wall. “Myles.”

I’m aching for him to thrust. To dominate me. To give me a break from this tension that only he has ever inspired.

But he tilts my chin up and looks me in the eye, instead, love naked on his features. Right there for me to witness.

No holding back. “This is me in your body, Taylor.” His hips rear back and rock forward, deep, deeper than before. “You feel me here?” he asks, raggedly, pressing my knees up

toward the pillows.

“Yes,” I gasp.

And because he’s been vulnerable, because he’s given up so much ground to make me believe, I pull his forehead down to mine and take the biggest leap of all—the emotional one—meeting him halfway. “This is you in my heart,” I say, voice uneven. Kissing him softly. Once, twice.

“Do you feel yourself there?”

“Yeah,” he chokes out, eyes suspiciously damp. “Keep me there. All right?”

“There’s no getting you out. I don’t want to.”

Visibly overcome, he drives my body up and down the bed, in that hard, pumping rhythm that we make together, limbs tangling, offering our moans to the ceiling. “You’re inside me for good, too, Taylor,” he says into my neck, just before pleasure tightens its grip on me. “From the first second I saw you to the last second I’m given. Stay with me. Watch me prove it.”