Page 13 of Stolen Goods
Think! Think!
He’d been in worse situations—he couldn’t think of any at the moment, but that was beside the point.
The man groaned, a mix of exertion and pain, but his hold was iron. Thad’s vision started to spot. He grew light-headed.
You have a few seconds at most. Think!
He had to do something. Anything. Just—
Thwack!
The Russian let go and dropped. When his body hit the ground, the floor shook.
Big tree fall hard, Thad thought as he quickly found his balance and pivoted, not quite able to believe the sight behind him. Addison stood with a wooden rolling pin in her hands, eyes as wide as the polka dots on her skirt as she stared at the man knocked utterly senseless by her feet. With a start, she dropped the makeshift weapon and gasped, raising both her palms to her lips to cover the gaping hole her dropped jaw created. Her gaze jumped up to find Thad’s.
“Damn.” He grinned, a full, wide smile that wasn’t the least bit contrived. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”
Her chin bobbed and her lips twitched, but no sound came out.
Thad stepped forward and gently placed his palm against the small of her back, trying to ease her out of the shock as he led her around the body splayed across the floor. The two men were down for now, but that could change at any moment, and he still wasn’t convinced they didn’t have backup waiting outside.
“Where’s the back door?” he murmured, soothing and calm.
“I— It’s—”
“You can just point, it’s okay. I’ll do the rest.”
She lifted a dainty hand, gesturing toward the opposite end of the kitchen, movements slow and stilted. No time to waste, Thad simply knelt, placed an arm beneath her knees, and swept her off her feet. She was small, probably a full foot shorter than him, and petite, hardly more than air in his arms. But he couldn’t help but notice she felt soft in all the right places with her chest heaving beneath that apron, and her hips pressed snugly against his abdomen. As his fingers dug into the curves of her waist, the adrenaline surging in his veins changed to something else.
Not the time for that.
He shook his head and stepped forward. Addison lifted her arms around his shoulders, holding on for dear life as she buried her face in his neck, trembling. Thad nudged his hip against the door and burst into the dark night, swiveling his head left and right in search of new assailants. The alley was calm, and so quiet he heard the buzz of the flickering streetlight ten feet away. Gravel crunched beneath his feet as he walked, loud with nothing but the hum of insects to cover the noise as he crept farther into the dark at the back of the building. Addison hardly seemed aware of the world. Only when Thad came to a stop beside his car did she finally lift her head from his chest and glance up.
Thad inhaled sharply. The dazzling aquamarine of her eyes stole the breath from his chest, a more thorough heist than any he’d pulled. No one had ever looked at him like that, as though he were the hero, the savior, the answer to some sort of question, some sort of prayer—not even Jo. Thad stared into Addison’s eyes, trying to see himself the way she saw him in that moment. An impossible feat when he knew the truth—that he didn’t deserve it, this adoration. That she wouldn’t have needed saving if not for him. That he was the wrecking ball, not the rescuer. Yet Thad didn’t look away. He held on to her gaze. He basked in it. Because in two minutes, he was going to do what he’d done to every other good thing in his life.
He was going to destroy it.
- 6 -
Addison
Addy stared into his eyes, unable to believe this man was real, unable to believe he was holding her in his arms like a valiant knight carrying the princess from her tumbling tower. Part of her honestly thought it was more likely she was floating in midair. But it was true. This was happening. She was snuggled against his warm chest, close enough to feel the kiss of his breath upon her skin.
He was like Superman come to life.
But without the alias.
And with a hint of James Dean.
Ooh, no—Addy blinked as the realization hit—he’s Indiana Jones!
Rugged and artistic. Clever and decisive. There was a wildness in his stormy gray eyes, as though at any moment a brilliant bolt of lightning might strike within them, a silent promise of adventure and surprise.
I’ve always had a soft spot for Harrison Ford.She sighed, melting a little in his embrace. There was something more to it, something she couldn’t quite place, something undeniably him. Not fiction. Not make-believe. But real.
“Who are you?” she wondered aloud, whispering the words.
As soon as she spoke, the magic snapped.
