Page 88 of Hannah and the Hitman

Wow. Today he was dressed down in jeans and an Air Force Academy t-shirt. His hair was damp, and he smelled clean and good.

“I can look,” Dax countered.

Jack growled. “Don’t make me kill you.”

Dax set his hand on his chest, then grinned and winked at me. “What a way to go.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his completely inappropriate compliment. But when a girl’s been told she’s overweight by her mother, classmates, and even ex-boyfriends,I’d take the words in the spirit they were given: to fuck with Jack and to make me smile.

“Get your own girl,” Jack snapped.

“I need to make a pickup,” Dax said, changing the subject. “Want to join me?”

“Nope, I’m here with Hannah.”

“You should go,” I told him, not wanting to keep him from boy-time or working.

His eyes met mine. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Then bring her along,” Dax said.

Jack’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. “What? To a pickup? Are you insane?”

“Hey, why can’t I come?” I asked. “I can take care of myself.” I gave Jack a pointed look, hoping he’d catch my meaning without saying it aloud. While I would call my teleporting clumsy at best, I was doing it. I’d made it to all around the apartment and had sex immediately after each time.

Jack seemed to get off–literally–on me being Wonder Woman.

“Yeah, she can take care of herself,” Dax parroted.

Jack gave him a death glare. “How do you know that?”

“She snuck past you at Dad’s place.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, which had both men’s gazes dropping to stare. “I snuck past you at Dax’s dad’s place,” I repeated. What I didn’t say was that I could now teleport more easily if I had to.

The death glare lifted from my boobs to my face. I smiled sweetly at him.

“I want to go,” I said, setting my hand on his bare arm,then looked over my shoulder at Dax. “I mean, you’re not going to kill anyone, are you?”

“I leave the killing to your man,” he told me.

The glare continued through Dax’s words. In fact, I wasn’t sure if Jack even blinked. “Where’s the pickup?”

“Smitty’s.”

“You doing a little gardening? Jack asked.

I frowned. Now they were speaking in code.

Dax shrugged. “Maybe. If she’s gonna stick around, she needs to know what she’s in for.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Jack snapped. “I quit, remember?”

I set my hand on my chest. “I’m right here, you know,” I reminded. “Is this a bad guy?”

Dax chuckled. “Yeah, sweetheart, he’s a bad guy.”

“How bad?”