Page 14 of Burn for Me

“I guess you are. This mission shouldn’t be too hard then.” She finally relents with a crooked smile.

That’s not what I wanted to hear but what I needed. Everything will go to hell if I'm caught in America anyway, so there's no sense in trying to make something out of nothing.

“Last one to base has to–”

“I have a better idea.” I grin as I cut her off, and her features become a scowl.

You only live once, and if my life is going to end anytime soon, I want to make it worthwhile. Her irritable look turns into one of intrigue.

“Let's go to town before training. The last one to the parking lot has to drive.”

I take off at a dead sprint after my words because there is no way in hell that I'm driving in this country.

“Watch out for that car!” Sharkie screeches.

Of course, her psychotic self won out because she acts like losing means it's the end of the world. I jerk the steering wheel into the parlor's parking lot, successfully avoiding yet another close call. Even though I almost hit three passing vehicles and a pedestrian decided to cross at the wrong moment, I did a decent job. It’s not like it would matter if something happened anyway since it's not my vehicle.

Sadly, Sharkie refused the idea of hotwiring Tide's car, but since I used to take Sam's SUV to town when I visited the post office, I knew exactly where he kept the spare key.

“Behind the fender is a small black box. Code: 101222.”

The thought of irritating him with a spontaneous hijacking of his vehicle was much more appealing than convincing Sharkie to seduce Tide into giving her the key to his car. I huff out a breath, and my sweat-coated palms struggle to unstick from the steering wheel.

“We made it in one piece, though.” I croon.

“Hardly.” She growls.

I jump out of the car and rush to the doors, unwilling to crumble under her steely stare.

Will I regret this?Possibly. Do I care?Not a chance.

The bell dings, and the rugged man behind the desk lifts his bald head, revealing the tattoos that snake along his neck. As usual, the unnamed woman scrolling through their computerdoesn't glance in my direction, but I smile brightly anyway, and he returns the gesture with a lazy grin.

"Ah, where are the boys? I didn't know they had an appointment today." His husky voice rumbles beneath the music playing in the background. I know about this tattoo shop because Tide and Sam are regulars. I've always made their'appointments'but have never been bold enough to make one for myself—until now.

Sharkie pushes through the door, still muttering curses about me, so I wave my hand over my shoulder, hoping to quiet her down.

"My friend and I are wanting one," I say, stepping closer to lean my arms against the desk. He mirrors my motion and looks me over, but I don't shy away.

"I can make time now," he murmurs, and my grin shifts into an innocent smile. This is another one of those moments where I have no intention of pursuing someone, but it feels nice to avoid the sting of rejection.

He stands, and I take Sharkie's hand, pulling her into the back room with me. Her tense form doesn’t go unnoticed; it’s as if she’s prepared for any worst-case scenario, but I know we’re safe here.

“This better be quick. Training is in an hour,” Sharkie grumbles, only confirming my previous thoughts—she’s on guard.

“I know you’re a perfect soldier, but have some fun!”

I climb onto the leather seat and wince at her expression. Her lip is caught between her teeth, and she looks anywhere but in my direction, almost panicked. Sharkie is slowly learning her trigger words. She's not like Sam, who conceals everything with a stony expression—Sharkie's emotions are always written on her face.

“I’msosorry; I didn’t mean to say that,” I mutter quietly.

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay.” She lets out a long, drawn-out breath. "You might want to loosen your bun; I think it’s pulling out your brain cells.”

She laughs and steps beside me but won’t look in my direction, choosing to admire the artwork lining the chipped brick walls instead. I can’t blame her; I knew this would happen.

“Go ahead and get settled, ladies,” Kage says as he walks past, heading for a small opening at the back of the room. I turn to lie on my stomach and inch my cargo pants down my hips.

“Are you getting one?” I ask Sharkie just as Kage returns with a roll of paper towels.

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