Closer.... Jo Leigh

Boone turned back, he seemed calm again. Everything except his eyes.

      “All right,” she said, “I’ll forget about the cheesecake. But I’m not giving up my Lucky Charms.”

      Boone nodded once. Then he turned, and they were out of there ten minutes later.

      IT TOOK THEM HALF AN HOUR to put the food away. Christie still couldn’t believe how much he’d bought. She’d insisted that he give her the receipt, which was more than two hundred bucks. Despite the fact that he’d gotten all kinds of crap she’d never eat, like protein powder and bean sprouts and whole wheat bagels, she’d repay every last cent.

      Being angry at someone other than the bastard was a novelty. Being away from the house and actually feeling at ease had been a revelation. Contradictory, yes, but it was completely true. She felt better than she had in so, so long, even though she couldn’t shake the creeps that had hit since he’d shown her that first electronic bug.

      She’d been naked. She’d gotten herself off. She’d wept, she’d ranted, she’d slept. With him watching her.

      “You ready?”

      Boone’s voice scared her, and she jumped. “Almost.”

      “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

      She turned to watch him walk down the hall. He had those long legs and damn, that ass of his. But still. He wasn’t exactly Barbie’s dream date. His arrogance had surprised her. Nate was like that sometimes. So sure of himself and infuriatingly cocky. Maybe it was the military that did it. Or maybe the job just attracted that kind of man.

      Her fingers went up to her lips as she remembered, for the billionth time, how he’d kissed her. It was a ploy, she knew that. All for show. But it hadn’t felt fake.

      She still wasn’t sure why she’d kissed him back like that. The easy answer was that she needed the contact. It was true, too. It had been ages since she’d touched someone else. Someone who wasn’t Milo. Fear for her friends had kept her away from her usual haunts, and fear for herself had kept her wary of every man in the city. It had never occurred to her, before this horrific time, how often she was touched. A handshake. A pat on the back. A hug, a kiss, friendly or intimate, it all added up, and it was important. The lack of contact made her feel less of a person somehow. As if she weren’t part of life at all.

      Of course, living in terror 24/7 would do that, too. Boone could be an arrogant jerk, but under the circumstances, that arrogance was just what the doctor ordered.

      She wondered if they would have to keep up the charade. If he’d kiss her again. The idea wasn’t unwelcome. Oh, who was she kidding? She totally wouldn’t kick him out of bed.

      “Are you still standing there? You’re not even dressed.”

      She jumped. “Relax, soldier. This isn’t the barracks.”

      “No, it’s not. It’s war. And if you want to win, you’d better get that pretty ass of yours in gear.”

      It was hard to gripe at a guy who’d just complimented her ass. So she went with the huffy walk. That’d show him.

      After she got changed into her running shorts and sports bra, she put her T-shirt back on and met him in the kitchen. He’d found her blender and he’d used it to concoct some ghastly looking goo. Which he held out to her, as if she would actually drink it. “What drugs are you taking?”

      “Excuse me?”

      “You must be high if you think I’m going to drink that.”

      He sighed heavily. “You don’t even know what’s in it.”

      “It doesn’t look very good.”

      “It’s got a lot of the stuff you need. You’re weak, you’re out of shape, and we have no time for screwing around. So drink it.”

      She took the tall glass in her hand, and sniffed. It didn’t smell too horrible. And when she sipped it, she was surprised to find that it didn’t taste all that bad, either. More like a fruit smoothie than ground-up spinach.

      “Finish the whole thing,” he said. “We need to get going.”

      She saluted and downed the brew. It was a lot, and by the time she’d drained the glass, he was standing at the front door, keys in his hand, waiting impatiently. He’d changed from his jeans to a pair of sweatpants and a muscle tee, which made his shoulders and arms look ridiculously buff. Damn.

      “Well?”

      “I’m coming, jeez.”

      Milo figured he was coming, too, given his hysterical bouncing by the door. Boone crouched down and scratched him behind the ears. “You want to come, boy? You want to take a ride?”

      “Really?” she asked. “He can come?”

      “Sure. We’re going to take a run, then when we’re at the gym, he can hang.”

      “Wow, what kind of gym lets dogs in?”

      “Not the kind you’re used to. Let’s lock and load.”

      She got ready to face the camera again, while Boone got Milo’s leash from the wall hook. When they went outside, Boone immediately put his arm around her shoulder. Even though it was only the second time, she focused on the reassurance, not the reason, so it was better. She leaned against him, the way she would if he’d really been her boyfriend. With Milo pulling, and Boone’s hand tightening on her arm, she knew they painted a pretty picture, one that was sure to infuriate the bastard. Now, the only question was, would Boone kiss her again?

      “MOVE YOUR ASS, PRATCHETT. We haven’t even gone a mile.”

      Boone, who watched her from about a hundred yards ahead, had to laugh when the exhausted woman flipped him the bird. He knew he was pushing her. He’d trained enough in his life to know when to ease back, and they weren’t there yet.

      The biggest drawbacks were her sleep deprivation and the fact that she hadn’t been eating, but today’s workout would help with the former, and his protein shakes would start building muscle almost immediately. They couldn’t afford to take it slow. She might have to protect herself tonight, tomorrow…

      He kept on trotting backward, watching her run. He’d found out she used to run a lot, and that was a good thing. Muscle memory and form were all in her favor. Now it was just a question of stamina.

      But he could tell she was only going to make one mile. It was enough. Besides, they still had some maneuvers to get through at the gym, so he geared it down. “Okay, Christie. Slow her down.”

      She took him a little too literally, shifting to a walk, her hands on her hips, her chest heaving. Milo, who’d had himself a great run all over the grass, looked to her for a pet, but she didn’t have the energy.

      Boone, who hadn’t even broken a sweat, moved to the two of them, wishing there were more time for him to really get in a decent run. “You did great,” he said. “Got your heart pumping, just like it should.”

      “Right,” she said, still struggling to calm her breathing. “I’ll fall over dead, and then the problem is solved.”

      “Come on. You’re doing great.”

      “Milo,” she said, waving her hand in Boone’s direction. “Kill.”

      Milo did come, but it was to lick Boone’s hand.

      “You traitor,” she said.

      “He knows who his friends are.”

      “Oh, please. You gave him a giant rawhide bone. What’s not to like?”

      A smart-ass answer was on the tip of his tongue, but he kept quiet. Instead, he headed toward the truck, watching the park for anyone who looked at all hinky.

      He’d brought her back to his neck of the woods. He knew Pasadena. Where the restaurants