Page 22 of Braxton

“Wow. Tough crowd,” she murmured under her breath.

“They don’t trust you.”

“That’s an understatement.” She could feel the chill, and it had nothing to do with the cool December air outside. “What about you?”

Turning in her seat, she faced Brax and saw a muscle jump in his cheek.

“Ask me after this op.”

That meant no. She leaned back and started chewing on her thumbnail, feeling like an outsider. But what did she expect? That they would embrace her without question after she’d been hired to kill them? After she and their team leader divorced and were now on shaky ground?

“What’s wrong?” Brax asked.

“What? Nothing.”

“You’re chewing your nails which means something is upsetting you.”

“God, do you always have to remember every single detail about everything in the world?” She slid her hand under her thigh so she’d stop gnawing on her nails. “I’m not upset. I’m—”

Surrounded by people who hate me and think I hurt you. And that I’ll hurt you again.

Why did that bother her so much?

“You’re what?”

Before she could answer, a leggy woman with dark reddish-brown hair climbed in and shut the cabin door. Her gaze zeroed in on Quinn, but she didn’t smile. Fidgeting, Quinn began chewing on her nail again. Brax must’ve told them all she was the devil.

And maybe she deserved it.

“Flight time is four hours, fifty-five minutes,” the pilot announced. “Let’s try to get in and out, okay, guys?”

“Why?” Ryland asked. “You got a hot date lined up?”

“Maybe.” She smirked. Her attention moved back over to Quinn. “Just so you’re aware, I have a hard and fast rule about traitors.”

Quinn lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated.

“They get tossed out the cabin door at thirty-thousand feet.” She smiled. “Welcome aboard.”

“Fair enough,” Quinn said in a low voice, watching as the woman in the bomber jacket disappeared into the cockpit.

Glancing over at Brax, who was trying to suppress a grin, something that felt a lot like jealousy curled in Quinn’s gut. “Did you sleep with her?”

“What?” His silver-gray eyes narrowed. “Who I slept with after you left really isn’t any of your business.”

“You’re right.” His words stabbed into her heart like a thousand little daggers. Just like the tattoo on his arm. “I told you why I had to leave. Putting you in danger wasn’t an option.”

When she lifted her thumb and started chewing the nail, he reached over and gently tugged her hand down. He didn’t release it, just kept his large, warm one over hers as he said, “I can take care of myself. And, no, I never slept with Hunter. She’s just a friend and a damn good pilot.”

His admission filled her heart with a weird sort of hope. Oh, God, did she want to get back together with him? No, that couldn’t be it. But she wouldn’t be averse to throwing caution to the wind and letting off some steam with him. Braxton had been the best, most fulfilling sex of her life, and she wanted that again. Yearned for it desperately.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she locked gazes with him and steeled herself for rejection. “Do you ever still…miss us? What we had, I mean.”

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. When she started to pull her hand away, he laced his fingers through hers. “Your love has haunted me like a ghost. I’ve spent the last five years missing what we had, Quinn.”

Her heart sped up at his raw honesty and they squeezed hands. There was a reason she hadn’t been with anyone sincelosing Brax. It was because no one else had come close to being the man he was.

“Me, too,” she whispered. Something shifted between them and Quinn’s heart felt lighter in her chest. “I have your back, Brax. I promise.”

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