Pros & Cons

by Sydney Logan

  “I don’t know. I guess because it’s midnight and I figure school’s out?”

  Shane smiles.

  “You look good, Jenna.”

  “Yeah, you too.” The flashlight suddenly gives me a glimpse of the wedding ring on his left hand. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

  He looks confused, so I point toward his hand.

  “Oh. I ended up marrying Beth about a month after you left for college. Hank didn’t tell you?”

  “No, but I never asked. Congratulations.”

  The crackle of his police radio keeps things from getting too awkward. He answers it, and I nervously glance at the clock on the dash.

  “Gotta go. Accident down on Avery Road.”

  Whew.

  “It was good to see you, Shane. Thanks for . . . well, you know.”

  He grins. “Yeah, I know. You can thank your old man for this little intervention, by the way. I told him it wouldn’t work.”

  “My dad put you up to this?”

  “Don’t be mad at him. He didn’t want me to arrest you or anything. Just wanted me to put a little fear in you. He worries about you.”

  How dare my father tell the sheriff I’m in town—even if the sheriff is my ex-boyfriend? I’m very tempted to make this my last trip home.

  “Please try to drive the speed limit, Jenna. The next cop might not be as friendly.”

  I grin. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Shane.”

  We say goodbye, and after sending a quick text to Ethan to tell him I’m running late, I head back out on the highway. Like a good girl, I drive the speed limit all the way to the interstate.

  “So, where are we going?”

  “You said you wanted to be surprised.”

  “I changed my mind. Give me a hint.”

  “Go to sleep, York.”

  “I’m not tired.”

  I’m actually beyond the point of exhaustion and too tired to sleep. When we boarded the plane, Gabriel had given us a bottle of wine and two glasses. We’d made quick work of the bottle, and it became obvious that Ethan Summers can’t hold his liquor. He’s already dozed off twice. But not me. I’m restless and need someone to talk to.

  I unsnap my seatbelt and stand up. “Fine. I guess I’ll go flirt with Gabe. I bet he’ll welcome me into his cockpit.”

  With a low growl, Ethan’s eyes shoot open. He reaches for my hand and pulls me onto his lap. Our faces are so close; his blue eyes wide open now. I take a deep breath and resist the urge to kiss him . . . something I’ve wanted to do since I boarded the plane.

  “You aren’t going anywhere near his cockpit. Now go to sleep.”

  “You’re so bossy.”

  Ethan’s arms tighten around me, and the way my body melts against his freaks me out just a little. I don’t know how, but that kiss had somehow catapulted our relationship into this weird alternate universe where it now felt completely normal to be sitting on his lap. Here in his arms, I feel comfortable. Safe. And safe is something I rarely feel.

  While he naps, I give myself permission to watch him sleep. Despite the fact he’s gorgeous, he’s also funny, smart, and capable of keeping up with me and my crazy need to always be on the move. I can never sit still for too long, and considering the way he’s whisking me away on his plane on a moment’s notice, I can only assume he has the same restless spirit.

  I lay my head against his chest and close my eyes. I have no idea where he’s taking me or what will happen when we get there, but for the first time in a very long time, I’m willing to let someone else call the shots.

  And it’s not so bad.

  “You have a house?”

  “I have a house.”

  The mountaintop cabin is big and beautiful and rustic, but this isn’t just some little cabin in the woods. It’s two stories, with a porch that winds all the way around the house. The windows reach to the ceiling, and a rock chimney stands like a statue as it rises into the sky. There’s a river that runs right next to the property.

  The birds are singing, the sun is shining, and I am in love.

  With the house.

  Just the house.

  And I haven’t even seen the inside yet.

  “Where are we?”

  “In the Smoky Mountains.”

  “Tennessee or North Carolina?”

  “Tennessee.”

  “You have a house. In Tennessee.”

  “Yep. Do you like it?” I can hear the quiet hope in his voice. For some reason, it’s important to him that I like the place. Looking around at the lush green trees and the beautiful mountains, how could I not love it?

  “It’s beautiful, Ethan.”

  He beams and offers me his hand. “Wanna see the inside?”

  Without thinking twice, I take his hand and follow him through the front door. Unbelievably, the interior is just as beautiful. With its sleek hardwood floors and big comfy chairs, what appears to be a mansion on the outside is actually a cozy, warm house.

  “You actually have a real home.”

  Ethan chuckles and pulls me toward one of the sofas. I slip off my shoes before joining him on the couch.

  “Don’t you have a place to crash?”

  “Abby and I have a few apartments scattered here and there, but nothing that would actually be considered a home.”

  His face grows thoughtful. “Don’t you want one?”

  “I never thought it was possible. How do you do it?”

  We all know staying in one place too long and planting roots is a dangerous dream when you’re a thief. It boggles my mind that he’s managed to do it.

  “I didn’t for a long time,” he says. “Coop and I crashed wherever. Motels, apartments . . . anywhere we could find a spare couch. But it got old, you know? I wanted a place to hide. A place to be me. Not Ethan Summers, the con artist. Just me.”

  “And you aren’t afraid of being found?”

  He shrugs. “There isn’t a neighbor within a twenty mile radius. Besides, I’m never here for an extended period of time. I can’t sit still that long.”

  “I know the feeling.”

  I’m amazed. Ethan has managed to build something permanent and lasting in a life that’s filled with danger and uncertainty.

  I’m jealous.

  I glance around the spacious room, and that’s when I see a guitar case in the corner.

  “Do you play?”

  “A little. I’m not very good.”

  I stifle a yawn. “You should play something for me.”

  Ethan laughs and reaches for a strand of my hair, absent-mindedly twirling a lock around his finger. “Are you finally tired?”

  “Not at all. I’m just going to curl up on this big couch in this warm house and close my eyes for a few minutes while you play me a song.”

  He grins and walks over to his guitar. Making myself at home, I slide down and stretch out, resting my head against one of the square pillows. Ethan sits in a nearby recliner and begins to play. I close my eyes, letting the soft strains of the haunting song wrap around me like a warm blanket.

  With mountain sunlight streaming in through the curtains and with Ethan by my side, I finally give my body permission to sleep.

  I’ve never shown my house to anyone. Not even to Coop. It’s my hiding place. My sanctuary. Why I felt compelled to share it with Jenna is still a mystery, but I don’t regret it. The happiness on her face was totally worth it.

  When she’d told me to surprise her, the cabin had immediately come to mind, and I’d made the preparations without thinking twice. Gabe, of course, had been thrilled, but I knew if I could keep the two of them separated until we reached the mountains, I could then have her all to myself.

  I place my guitar back in its case and look over at the couch. I’m not surprised to find her fast asleep. The sunlight dances on her skin and shimmers against the highlights in her hair. I watch the little specks of light with envy.

  I wish I could touch her that easily.

  Little specks of
light? I’m losing my mind.

  Knowing she’ll sleep for a while, I walk out onto the porch and sit in my rocking chair. This is my favorite thing about the cabin—the wrap-around porch with the view of the Smokies. It’s the one place—the only place—I can truly relax.

  My cell vibrates in my pocket. I don’t even bother checking the ID. For this phone, only two people have the number, and one of them is sleeping peacefully on my couch.

  “I can’t believe you and Abby have finally come up for air.”

  Coop laughs. “She’s sleeping.”

  “How ironic. Her partner is doing the same thing.”

  “Oh? And how would you know that?”

  Shit.

  “We’re . . . kind of on vacation.”

  “Together?”

  “Yeah.”

  There’s a moment of dead silence, and then my best friend explodes with laughter.

  “You’re gonna wake your woman,” I grumble.

  “You and Jenna finally sealed the deal. I’m proud, man.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Then what’s it like?”

  Good question. “I don’t know. I guess it’s . . . undefined at the moment.”

  “Undefined. Is that code for she still won’t sleep with me?”

  “What are you? Fourteen? Undefined means we’re in this weird limbo, and I don’t have a clue what’s going on. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Wanna talk shop?”

  “Yes, please. Anything.”

  “Well, about the Greek deal. It sounds like a simple operation. The four of us have been asked to assist with the delivery of a ring that’s on display at one of the museums here in the city. It’s called the Ambrosia diamond. Obviously, it’s worth millions. A shipping magnate from Athens wants it for his wife. It’s not for sale. That’s where the four of us come in.”

  “The four of us?”

  “The contact asked for us specifically—Abby, Jenna, you, and me.”

  “Odd. I wonder why he didn’t just use the Wonder Twins?”

  The Wonder Twins are actually Marcello and Maria Salvatore—a brother and sister team from Venice, Italy. They’re jewel thieves who are famous overseas but have never really found their niche in North America, thanks to the four of us. We’ve crossed paths with the twins a few times in the past, but there’s really no competition.

  “Funny you should mention them. They are involved. I don’t have all the details, but it’s a pick-up, drop-off situation that seems way too simple to involve all six of us. But hey, if he wants to pay us an insane amount of money for an easy job, who are we to question it? I told him we’d let him know by the end of the week.”

  “Him? Who’s in charge of this operation?”

  Coop sighs. “This is the part I’ve been dreading. It’s Stavros.”

  “Stavros Peri?

  “Yeah. And I know how you feel about him.”

  “Then why are we even considering this?”

  “Because the payout is obscene and none us have jobs lined up for the next few months.”

  I consider the luxury of a two month vacation, and while it sounds nice, I know Jenna and I would probably kill each other by the end of it. Maybe it’s best to stay busy.

  “What does Abby think?”

  “She wants to talk it over with Jenna. She sent her a few texts, but Jenna hasn’t replied. Now I know why. Guess she’s busy.”

  I sigh. “It’s not like that, Coop.”

  “So you said.”

  “I’ll talk it over with York and get back to you.”

  “You aren’t even on first-name basis yet?”

  “Shut up.”

  He’s still laughing when I end the call.

  I’m chopping vegetables in the kitchen when Sleeping Beauty finally wakes up.

  “Something smells good,” Jenna says as she makes her way over to the island. “Best sleep ever, by the way.”

  I grin and toss the tomatoes into a bowl of lettuce. That’s the extent of my culinary knowledge.

  “It’s the fresh country air and complete lack of noise. I always sleep great here, too.”

  Jenna glances at the chicken on the stove. “Did you do all this?”

  “I had a lot of time on my hands while you were snoring like a lumberjack. So I went out, shot a chicken—”

  She peeks in the pan. “Well, that explains the feathers.”

  I laugh and hand her the salad bowl. “I’m telling Minnie you said that. She’ll be deeply offended.”

  “Minnie?”

  “She’s the housekeeper. Wine?”

  She nods while I pour.

  “Minnie and her husband, Joe, oversee the house for me. When I’m here, she likes to cook for me. She thinks I’m too skinny. Sometimes she even slips in at night, all ninja-like, just to have breakfast ready for me in the morning.”

  Jenna laughs, and we finish bringing the food to the table. We’re in the south, and Minnie’s dishes are definitely southern. I had managed to convince her to bake the chicken instead of frying it, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk her into baking the potatoes.

  “Oh, my God, are those real mashed potatoes?”

  I chuckle. “Minnie would never serve us instant. I take it you approve?”

  “Mashed potatoes are my absolute favorite. I haven’t had them in . . . forever.”

  Home-cooked meals aren’t a luxury we have in our profession. That’s another reason why I’m glad we’re here. For the next hour, we eat like absolute pigs and swap stories about our favorite heists. There’s no witty banter. No ridiculous bickering to disguise the suffocating sexual tension. Just two people enjoying a decent meal in a beautiful house in the mountains. Before I know it, we’ve polished off the wine and our plates are empty.

  “Well, that was delicious,” she says. Then she yawns.

  “You cannot be tired.”

  “I haven’t slept much lately, and it was a big meal. Plus all the wine.” She shrugs and smiles. “Please thank Minnie for me.”

  “You can thank her yourself. She’ll be back for breakfast.”

  Despite my protests, Jenna helps me load the dishwasher. More than once, we accidentally brush against each other as we work, and the constant touching is driving me crazy. If she was any other woman, I’d already have her upstairs in my bed. But she isn’t just any woman, and I’ve never had any woman in my bed. In this house.

  So why am I thinking about it now?

  “I am so completely screwed,” I mutter.

  Jenna stops scraping a plate. “What was that?”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

  Twenty minutes later, the kitchen’s clean. Minnie will die of shock when she comes by in the morning, since I’m normally such a bachelor when she’s in town.

  “The . . . uh . . . guest room is up the stairs. Second door on the right. There’s a shower in there and everything. I told Minnie you were coming, so you should find whatever you need.”

  “Oh,” she says, drying her hands. “Where’s your room?”

  “First door on the right.” I grin. Yeah I didn’t plan it that way at all. “So if you need anything—”

  “I’ll just knock on the wall.”

  I nod. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

  We share a smile before she heads upstairs.

  The clock says it’s two in the morning. I’m wide awake. I could blame it on the deafening silence or the big dinner, but that’d be a lie. My mind is filled with the scent of her hair and the taste of her lips, and the knowledge that she’s right next door only makes it worse.

  Suddenly, I hear a soft rapping against the wall. It’s subtle, so quiet I’m almost sure I imagined it. But then I hear it again, and this time it’s a little more forceful. I lift my fist and knock in return. Another knock is her reply.

  It’s all the invitation I need.

  I bolt out of bed and run next door. I don’t even bother knocking before rushing into her be
droom. She’s kneeling on the mattress, wide-eyed and beautiful in some flimsy piece of lace that would be so easy to rip from her body.

  “Hi,” she whispers.

  Taking a deep breath, I walk as close to the bed as I dare. Her hair’s hanging down in wild curls that I itch to touch, but I somehow manage to stay rooted to the floor.

  “Hey. What’s wrong? Do you need something?”

  Jenna nods slowly and crawls closer to the edge of the bed.

  “What do you need, Jenna?”

  Her eyes remain on mine as she reaches up, fists the bottom of my T-shirt, and tugs me down onto the bed.

  “I need you.”

  I thought the parking lot kiss had been the most amazing kiss of my life.

  I was wrong.

  This kiss—with us barely dressed and on an actual bed—was by far the most passionate kiss ever.

  “Why can’t I stop thinking about you?” Ethan whispers roughly when we come up for air. His mouth makes a trail down the column of my throat, causing me to arch against him. We both moan when his hips shift against mine.

  I try to answer, but the truth is I don’t have one. The reason he can’t stop thinking about me is probably the same reason I can’t stop thinking about him. We get each other. We understand each other better than anyone else ever could. I try to formulate the words, but instead, I just kiss him harder. His hands slide down, and I nearly combust when his fingers trace the lace of my panties.

  “Protection?”

  It’s a question. A plea.

  He presses his forehead to mine. “No. I mean, there’s nothing here. You’re the only girl I’ve ever brought to my house.”

  Knowing I’m the only woman he’s allowed inside this part of his world warms my heart. The fact that we’re stuck in his little love shack out in the middle of nowhere—and without protection—is practically nauseating.

  “Don’t overthink this, baby,” Ethan says, peppering my face with kisses.

  Baby. It’s the one word that can sufficiently douse the raging fire.

  “Ethan, we can’t . . .”

  He sighs heavily. “Why can’t we? I haven’t been with anyone in over a year. I’ve been tested. Totally clean.”