“Garcia?” His jaw tightened. “Is that the cop you’re seeing?”
“I’m not seeing him,” I said. “He keeps showing up looking for extra information. He said someone stole Simone’s necklace at the charity ball, and since I was already a suspected jewel thief, he thought it might be me. So now I’m the go-to gal every time there’s a crime.”
I thought he’d at least smile at the rhyme, but for the first time since I’d met him, he had nothing to say.
“Was it you?” I asked into the uncomfortable silence. “You were also at both crime scenes. I’m not accusing you, but—”
“You are accusing me.”
I thought back to the night at the museum, our meeting in the dark, the conversation that lit me up inside, and the curious sensation of feeling safe in a stranger’s arms. We had some kind of chemistry, a bond that told me not to delve any deeper. The irony of feeling ashamed that I’d accused him of theft wasn’t lost on me, but since he was driving and needed to keep his focus on the road, I let it go.
Ten minutes of awkward silence later, he stopped the car in a deserted parking lot in East Garfield, one of the most crime-ridden community areas in Chicago. Jack motioned me out of the vehicle and opened the hatch. I leaned against the bumper while he made a call.
“Dog’s running late. He’ll be here in ten.” They were the first words he’d spoken since our discussion in the car, and I was desperate to move past the hurt I’d caused him.
“So this guy . . . Dog . . . Is he a friend of yours?”
“My cousin knows him.”
“Is he . . . legit?”
“We’re meeting him in an empty parking lot at night. What do you think?”
His uncharacteristically cold manner and harsh tone put me on edge. “Right. Of course. I didn’t want to assume. Or label. I mean, he could have spent time in jail, but that doesn’t make him a bad person. Maybe he’s got kids and he’s hard up for cash or maybe he has a warehouse full of stuff from his past life, and he needs to get rid of it . . .” I knew I should stop talking, but my mind was racing, spinning out of control. I’d broken something between us. Jack made me feel calm. He eased the discomfort that took up space in my mind. I could breathe when I was with him, but he’d withdrawn and I couldn’t feel him anymore.
“Simi . . .” He closed the distance between us, trapping me between his body and the back of the car. “Stop,” he said quietly. “You don’t need to—”
“I watch crime shows with Rose,” I continued, my words tripping over my tongue. “She likes the old shows and I like the new shows, so one week it will be Murder, She Wrote and the next it will be Criminal Minds. Some of the shows have reformed criminals who just want a better life, but they need money, so they do one last heist. That’s okay, too. I’m not judging. I wasn’t judging you. Or accusing. I didn’t mean to offend you or—”
“It’s okay.” He slid his hand beneath my hair, his thumb stroking my nape. “We’re good.”
A wave of relief washed over me, followed by a ripple of desire. I didn’t care if he was a thief. I closed my eyes, focused on his gentle strokes, the connection I could feel again.
“Have you ever wanted to disappear?” he asked. “Just run away and start your life all over again as someone else?”
I couldn’t tell him what I knew he wanted to hear. “Honestly, no. I couldn’t imagine leaving Chloe and Olivia. Or Rose. Or my family, even though they ignored me for most of my childhood and are now trying to make up for it by meddling in my life. If we get this money, it won’t mean anything unless I have someone to share it with, the people I love.”
“I had that once.” He drew back, and I could see the pain in his eyes.
“Love?”
“And family.”
His eyes never left mine as he lowered his mouth. His kiss started soft but deepened toward delirium. He backed me right up against the vehicle, pressing me against the cold, hard door. Then he was everywhere. Strong hands roamed up my arms, over my shoulders, and down to my rear. His hips pinned me in place, hard length pressed tight against my belly.
“Jack . . .” I turned my head, drew in a ragged breath. “Maybe we should take this to the back of your vehicle. Did you know it’s built for more than just profiling at Target? It’s got a very spacious cargo hold. If you fold down the seats, it’s big enough for two.”
“You deserve more than the back of a rental vehicle in a parking lot in East Garfield,” he said. “If we do this, it will be a whole night—soft bed, silk sheets. It’s going to be slow. I want to take my time with you, strip off your clothes piece by piece, kiss every inch of your skin—”
I didn’t get to find out what else he was going to do or when “this” would happen. Dog interrupted our intimate moment by trying to hit us with his truck.
“That was close.” Jack carefully slid away from Dog’s bumper. “He almost didn’t make it this time.”
Dog was a balding middle-aged man with more beard than face. “Got your equipment,” he said, holding out a cardboard box. “You can have it all for 15 percent off the retail price.”
I checked the box against the list Chloe and Gage had made in Rose’s garage—burner laptop, burner phones, RF transceiver, assorted gadgets I didn’t understand . . . “Why are these ropes and pulleys here? And this glass cutting tool? And this other stuff?” I pulled a few things out of the box at random.
“I added it to the order,” Jack said. “Just in case.”
“How do I know the electronic equipment isn’t faulty?” I asked Dog. “Do you give a money-back guarantee?”
“You get what you get, and you don’t get upset.” Dog smirked. At least I thought it was a smirk, but between the mustache and the beard, a whole lot of things could have been going on with those lips.
“That worked when I was twelve and got the smallest piece of birthday cake,” I said. “But a 15 percent discount with no guarantee doesn’t do it for me.”
“17 percent,” Dog said.
“Let’s test it out right now. That way, if anything doesn’t work, I can call all your contacts and let them know to be wary of electronics in cardboard boxes.” Nani had taught me to negotiate, and she was a master of the art.
“20 percent and that’s my final offer.” Dog folded his arms across his chest in a move that I assumed was meant to intimidate. He had sizable muscles, but the effect was watered down by his My Little Pony tattoos. I could swear I saw Fluttershy wink.
“Don’t give me that 20 percent bullshit,” I said. “I work in retail. I know the margins and I know you didn’t buy these goods so everything is profit for you.”
“You didn’t tell me she was a hard-ass.” Dog glared at Jack.
“I like to keep the good stuff to myself.”
“Give me the Boxing Day special,” I said. “Six a.m. door crasher.”
His eyes widened. “40 percent?”
I shook my head. “First five people in the door.”