Page 12 of Ghost

I checked the mirror twice. Then a third time, just to be sure I wasn’t imagining it. But he was always there, following me through town and down the quiet street that led to the house my grandfather had built for my grandmother. By the time I parked in the drive, my adrenaline was giving way to exhaustion, and I couldn’t decide if I was irritated or relieved when he pulled in behind me.

I got out as he cut the engine. Another bike rolled up before I made it to the back of my truck to ask Gavin why he was here. When he met the rider at the curb and took a small duffel from him, I had the answer to my question. But I still asked it anyway.

“You’re staying here tonight?”

“Yup.”

He acted like this had been the plan since we left the warehouse, guiding me up the stairs and through the front door.

After setting his helmet on the table and duffel beside the couch, he checked the locks on the front and back doors and looked through the windows before drawing the blinds shut.

I watched him test the back door again. “Do you really think all of this is necessary?”

“You in charge of the inventory?” Gavin glanced over his shoulder. “The audit tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re a potential target.”

I was surprised by the flare of irritation at the idea that he was only here because he had to be. Which was ridiculous since I barely knew the guy.

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“I know.” He finished with the lock. “But I’m still sleeping close to the front door.”

I looked at the duffel. “All night?”

“Tonight seemed like a good place to start.”

I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or throw him back outside. Not that I’d be able to. But that didn’t stop me from thinking about it.

“Did Stryker assign you to stay with me?”

“Explosives are my expertise, so yeah.” Gavin closed the space between us. “But staying with you was my call.”

I bit my bottom lip. “Even though any of your brothers could watch the house?”

“Outside, maybe.”

“And inside?”

His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Not happening.”

“Why?” I hated how breathy my voice was, and my cheeks heated.

He grinned at me. “You really need me to explain when you’re already blushing?”

His hands settled at my waist, and every sensible thought I had left went poof. “You’re very sure of yourself.”

“Only when I’m right.”

“You seem to think that’s all the time.”

“Not always.” His thumb brushed my side. “But definitely about you.”

He dipped his head to kiss me, his lips moving over mine gently at first, like he didn’t want to overwhelm me after everything that happened tonight. But that didn’t stop the passion from burning brightly between us. So I grabbed the front of his cut and kissed him back. That was all the encouragement he needed.

He backed me against the table and deepened the kiss until my knees went weak and my chin had the slightest burn from his beard. Then he pulled back with a groan, his thumb stroking the skin beneath my ear.