Page 132 of The Love Destroyers

“I’m not very good at that.”

“I know,” she says with a sexy smirk. It’s a warm spring day, the flowers budding and blooming, and there’s a pleasant as hell breeze. The perfect day for a drive. Of course, I’d drive on a frigid day from hell if it meant going somewhere with Emma.

The last couple of months have been the best time of my life. I’m with my family and my woman, and I have a job I love. Are some of the customers impossible to please narcissists with nothing better to do than to call up the garage all day asking for updates? Absolutely. But the work makes up for it, mostly. And when I’m feeling pissed off, I take a Honey Do job and knock down a wall or a fence. Occasionally, I’ll help Declan out on one of his landscaping jobs.

I’m satisfied.

I’m content.

You’re in love.

Damn straight. I am, and it’s time for me to tell her, but part of me worries I’ll put her off. Or she’ll decide it’s a bad decision, after all, to be with a man whose history looks like it should be on a rap sheet.

When she reaches Ingrid’s hood, she leans back against it, and the sight is so delectable, my mouth waters. She’s wearing a flowing dress, bright blue, and I’d love nothing better than to push it up.

The look in her eyes says she knows it. Smiling slyly, she says, “Get in the car.”

I do, and she climbs in next to me, expertly getting Ingrid going.

“Are we going somewhere overnight?” I ask, trying to get a clue. “I’ll have to text Chuck instructions on what to do for Carrot.”

She shakes her head, smiling at my obvious attempt to get information. Then she pulls away from the curb and starts upthe CD—Reputationby Taylor Swift. A grin stretches across my face.

“Thematic.”

“You bet.”

She evades my other questions as she steers Ingrid away from Smith House and onto smaller mountain roads, weaving upward.

“It’s getting dark,” I point out.

“Good,” she says, giving me another sidelong glance that has anticipation pumping through my veins.

She keeps driving, bringing us away from other cars. It feels like it’s just us and the car and the trees and the mountain, and damn it feels good.

She gives me another look after taking a hairpin turn. “Any guesses?”

“If you’re kidnapping me, I have no objection.”

Finally, she pulls over, driving down what’s little more than a dirt path, only a trace of gravel, before turning and parking. Ingrid’s passenger side faces the narrow opening in the trees and foliage that surround us on all sides.

“What is this?”

She shrugs. “Nicole told me about it. There used to be a hiking path here, but they never cleaned it up after a big storm that took down some trees. People don’t come here much anymore, and when they do, it’s usually for one thing.”

“To hide bodies?” I quip, but my blood is hot, because I have a feeling I know where this is going. Or maybe I just hope I know.

“I had something else in mind,” she says in a tone that’s all insinuation. Then she gets out of the car and opens the driver’s side passenger door. When I get out of the car and join her, she reaches under her dress and pulls off the skimpiest pair of lace panties she’s ever worn and throws them at me.

I do what any sane person would: I catch them.

“Emma,” I whisper under my breath.

She lies back on the seat, resting her head on a pillow she must have put back there for just this purpose. The degree of planning that went into this is a further turn-on.

I reach for the button on my pants, but she shakes her head, her lips lifting as she tugs up the hem of that flowy dress, giving me a show.

And that’s when I realize…

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