Trouble (B-Squad 2.75)

She swallowed past the sand pit in her mouth and—out of a sense of primal survival desperation—moved so the small, round kitchen table was between them. It wasn't that she was afraid of him. More like she was afraid of what she wanted to do when she was near him—every dirty thing she could possibly imagine.

"I'm moving things ahead."

He glanced down at the table and back up at her with a knowing smirk. "And how were you doing that?"

Her cheeks burned. Damn it. Why was it always like this with him? Taking a deep breath, she clicked together her bad attitude, using it as a shield against his cocky charms. "I called in a favor to get more information about the Rhinestone Cowboys."

He spread his legs wide and crossed his arms over his broad chest. "You don't need to know more."

His stance couldn't have screamed "I strong man, you weak woman" any more if he tried.

This wasn't how she worked. Drew, of all people, should know that. She wasn't about to entrust her life to some random FBI agents who were more concerned with catching the man in charge rather than keeping her safe. And Drew? She might be physically safe with him, but emotionally was a whole other story. The best way to save herself was to get this whole cat and mouse game over with as quickly as possible, so that was exactly what she was going to do.

"I'm not going to sit around Catfish Creek and wait for those two goons to make their move."

"That's the stupid plan the Feds came up with and you agreed to." He shoved his hand through his wet hair, making it stand up as he rounded the table to her side.

Her pulse picked up as he neared and desire warm and slick sent a shiver of anticipation through her body. Her nipples hardened automatically with his closeness, as if they'd been trained to sit up and take notice of Drew. Hell, with the way he played them like a maestro they had. She couldn't control her body's reaction to him and it pissed her off as much as it turned her on. He really was the one man she'd never been able to stop herself from wanting, which is exactly why she had to fight against it so hard. She couldn't trust him, that lesson he'd taught her oh so well. That pinprick of humiliation and hurt was enough to pull her back from the edge of desire and back to the problem at hand.

"I'm not going to sit back and wait for the other shoe to drop. That's not the way I roll."

"No, you just roll over everything in your path without any thought about the consequences, but there will be some if you do anything idiotic like try to draw Wynn and Miller out without backup."

"All the more reason why I can't wait for the Feds to do their job." Frustration over the situation and her body's reaction to the half naked man in front of her, she pushed past him, her only goal being to get out of the kitchen before she did something she'd regret, "I'm going to get ready. Until I know my next move I have to act like everything's normal. That means picking up my high school reunion welcome packet and saying hi to all the bitches who think I slept my way through the entire varsity football roster and the assholes who started that rumor in the first place."

"If that's the way you feel about coming to the reunion then why are you even here?" he asked.

Stopping in the doorway she glanced back at him. He had one hip propped against the table and the top of his towel had slunk down low enough she could see a few dark hairs curling over the edge. The temptation to walk back over and drop to her knees in front of him hit her like a sixty-mile-per-hour gust of wind. She could fuck him. She could suck his dick. She could tease and tempt and toy with him until they both were nothing but mush, but she wouldn't be able to walk away happy after that. That summer after graduate school had taught her that. When it came to her heart, Drew Jackson was danger in a tight pair of Levis. He always had been. He always would be. She could pretend she'd come back to Catfish Creek to flip her classmates the bird but that was a lie, she realized in a rush. She'd come back to see him.

"Why come back?" she asked. "To see if anything had changed."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and marched to the bedroom her chin high and her step faltering only a little bit.

Drew

He'd never thought of the cab of his truck as small before. It sure was with Leah in there making the whole place smell like strawberry shampoo instead of Whataburger or The Hamburger Shack. He stopped at one of the lights on Main Street a block from the high school. She didn't look up from her phone. Here he was acting as her well-armed chauffeur and she'd ignored him and spent the ride so far to the Catfish Creek High School texting. She let out a giggle that was so unlike any sound she had ever made around him before that he missed that the light had turned green until the driver behind him let him know with a prolonged honk.

"Something funny?" he asked, with a little more snarl than he meant to put in the question.

She didn't even look up. "Just Gray."

Grayson Cleary. The guy had been in the same class as Leah and Jess. Up until now he'd seemed like an okay guy. The unfamiliar prick of jealousy stabbed him in the left eyeball. "The dropout?"

Finally, she looked up from her phone, but only to cut him a glare. "You mean my best friend?"

"Since when?" Girls weren't friends with guys. It just didn't work out that way. If the chick was hot—and Leah was beyond that—then the dude wanted to bang her. End of story.

Her jaw went tight. "Since your sister blackballed me in school and Gray was the only one who stood by me."

There was just enough of a tremble in her voice to make him hate what was going to come out of his mouth next, but it had to be said. Jess could be a real bitch, but she was still his sister. "I'm sure there was a misunderstanding."

Leah laughed. It wasn't a happy sound. "Nope, no misunderstanding. Pretty, perky, perfect Jessica Jackson declared war and I'm sure she still thinks she won. As if I cared what she did."

"Sounds to me like you still do." He slammed his mouth shut before he could add that it had been ten years and pulled into the high school parking lot.

After pulling into a parking spot near the gym doors and turning off the engine, he pivoted in his seat. Leah's cheeks were beet red. This wasn't the spitfire response he loved to get from her. It was hurt. Probably embarrassment. More than likely a whole lot of half buried resentment. His gut twisted. Shit. He was an asshole.

She let out a slow breath and gave him a cold smile. "Well, if this isn't deep thoughts with Drew Jackson."