"Yeah." A hint of a smile twitched the corner of his mouth. "But I always want to hit anyone who looks at my daughter."
They shared a laugh and Carson started to hope that maybe...
J.T.'s smile faded altogether. "Hurt her, though, and I will make you hurt back."
Carson stifled a wince over the inescapable reality that J.T.'s warning had come a few months too late.
"Hope it's not too late for me to be here."
Her eyes full of hot and brooding Carson, Nikki stepped out to join him on the small landing connected to the garage apartment. "I couldn't sleep."
She'd given up at midnight, digging her way into a pint of ice cream to eat away the disappointment when he left without speaking to her after his conversation with her father. Five spoonfuls into her double-fudge chocolate, she'd moved from disappointed to peeved. How could he leave her hanging like that?
Except here he was before morning and her anger eased.
"How did things go with my father? I hope he didn't give you a hard time."
Her father had scooped her mom up and off to bed, their need to be alone so transparent she'd slipped away without speaking to him. He was due his reunion, but it pissed her off that her dad had still found time to speak with Carson.
Hello? Last time she'd checked, twenty-three was a legal adult age.
"Your dad was rightfully concerned and surprisingly understanding. I didn't get my ass kicked, so I guess it's all good."
"Sounds too easy, but I'm not going to complain." Nikki rubbed her bare arms in the running tank, her thin cotton sleep pants not providing much of a barrier against the chilly breeze. And also not the sexiest lingerie, complete with flip-flops instead of the fantasy heels.
"I'd planned to wait until tomorrow's sailing trip to talk to you, but I had to see you." His hand pressed to the white wood slats behind her, his body shielding out the world. "I've been dying to touch you all day."
She totally agreed, arching into his kiss, into this moment she so needed and deserved after a stressful week of waiting, wondering as she resumed her life. He cupped the small of her back, tunneled under her T-shirt, his hand branding all the hotter in forty-degree air. Her tingling toes curled, toasty warm even in flip-flops. The searching sweep of his tongue ignited sparks along her nerves until she itched to shed her clothes, tug off his...
Not a wise idea outside, especially at her parents' house with late-night traffic whispering in the distance, closer, the sound growing until a truck rumbled down her street, a vehicle apparently in need of a new muffler.
Carson's mouth stilled on hers, broke contact, a tension bunching muscles along his shoulders. She opened her eyes and found him scowling—but not at her, his attention focused on something over her shoulder.
"Carson?" She ducked her head into his line of sight. "Are you okay?"
He tucked her aside, while keeping his gaze on the road. "I've seen that battered old pickup drive past at least three times tonight."
She looked around his broad shoulders. "Do you think it's someone assigned by Agent Reis to watch the house?"
He urged her back toward the apartment. "I don't know, but it looks damned familiar."
"You're right." She held her ground, squinting in the darkness, and realizing— No. She didn't want that to be true, but couldn't ignore the obvious. "That's my student. The one you called a thug. Billy Wade Watkins."
Without a word, Carson lifted her by the waist, deposited her in the apartment and thundered down half the wooden steps before vaulting over the banister to the lawn. He sprinted across the grass and over a hedge, toward the street. Good God, he was going to get run over. Her brain went off stun long enough to race after him, double-timing the stairs to the yard, her feet in flip-flops slipping along the damp grass, slowing her dash.
Carson reached the truck as it finished a three-point turn. He yanked the door open and hauled the driver out by the sweatshirt. Most definitely Billy Wade Watkins.
Even under the mellow nimbus of the streetlight she recognized her student well, baggy clothes, body piercings and black do-rag tied around his head. Her heart broke a little more to think she could have misjudged him.
Wait, she reminded herself. Hear his story. And get over there fast before the vein throbbing in Carson's neck exploded.
Her feet quickly turning Popsicle cold, she danced across the yard. "Carson," she called out. "Everybody calm down." She sidestepped the walkway hedge. "Billy Wade, what are you doing over here this time of night?"
Carson's grip on the boy's hooded sweatshirt stayed tight. "And don't even try to say you were just driving around or some other BS answer. I've seen you case this house three times in the last couple of hours."
"Billy Wade? Did you really do that?"
His eyes actually filled with tears below his pierced eyebrow. "I was only looking out for you, Miss Price. I swear. You've been having so much trouble. You've been really good to me. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."