Page 50 of Lone Star Wanted
Kincade looked up.
And the air snapped.
Her gaze flicked over him, and Kincade felt the heat between them ignite fast and hard. Not just attraction. Not just chemistry. This was deeper. He could see it in her eyes. Feel it in his blood.
“Well,” she said, trying for casual but missing by a mile, “you’re clearly not in a hurry to cover up.”
He smirked. “You caught me mid-operation.”
She didn’t move at first. Then she set the basket down with a soft thud, her eyes never leaving his. “Operation, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said, stepping toward her. “Mission: don’t get distracted.”
Her lips curved, and in one fluid motion, she closed the distance and kissed him. There was no hesitation. No slow burn.
Her mouth met his with heat and hunger, and without a second thought, he dropped the shirt in his hand. His arms went around her, pulling her close, her body flush against his bare chest. The kiss deepened fast, her fingers fisting into the waistband of his boxers, his mouth slanting over hers like he’d been waiting for this moment since the second he saw her again.
Because he had.
And it hit him, right there in the quiet hum of the laundry room, that no matter what came next, no matter what hell they still had to walk through, this was the one thing he wasn’t going to lose.
The kiss deepened, the kind that left no doubt what they both wanted. Cassidy’s hands slid up his back, nails teasing his skin, and Kincade’s brain short-circuited. He debated it for half a second. Bed? Floor? Hell, the dryer could work in a pinch.
They didn’t have time. They absolutely didn’t. But her lips were on his neck now, and he was already forgetting what time it was.
Then his phone rang.
A sharp, insistent buzz on the top of the folding table where he’d put it.
He groaned against her mouth, pulled back just enough to curse under his breath, and grabbed the phone. Jericho’s name lit the screen.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, then hit the answer button and put it on speaker. “This better be good.”
Jericho’s voice came through, dry and amused. “Based on the timing and your growled greeting, I’m guessing I interrupted something. Should I call back in five? Or ten?”
Cassidy rolled her eyes and grabbed the laundry basket with a smirk, but her cheeks were still flushed. Kincade gave her a look that saidthis isn’t over, then turned his attention back to the call.
“Make it fast,” Kincade snarled. “Before I forget I like you.”
“Copy that,” Jericho said, the humor fading. “I’m calling to give you an update on Ginny. Her injuries aren’t as bad as we thought. Mostly superficial bruises and a mild concussion. They’re discharging her this morning.”
“That’s fast,” Cassidy muttered.
“She insisted,” Jericho said. “Ruby offered her a safe house. Ginny turned it down flat. Says she wants to go home with Marlene.”
Kincade ran a hand through his hair, the adrenaline from that kiss bleeding into frustration. “Not a fan of that plan. Marlene’s still a question mark. That makes Ginny a walking target.”
“She’s convinced she’s safer with her daughter,” Jericho said. “Or maybe she’s more scared of being alone. Either way, it’s her choice.”
Kincade didn’t like it. He didn’t trust it. But he knew Jericho was right. They couldn’t force the woman into hiding.
Even if someone out there might want her dead to silence her.
Jericho cleared his throat. “Any news from our mutual friend?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Kincade said, knowing he meant Travis. “Still off the grid.”
Jericho let out a low curse. Kincade figured it was frustration about Travis disappearing again and doing God knows what. But then Jericho said, “No, I’m not swearing about that. I just pulled up to the county sheriff’s office. Becker’s already here. So is Moran.”
