“I’m the Gucci type?”

“You’re a woman. I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“Typical.” She laughed. “You should have said don’t look, but we’ve got a situation.”

“Put your shrink hat on. You still think that’s what would have happened?”

She shook her head. “No. I would have checked.”

“That was my dilemma. Though you weren’t a problem.” He snuck a glance at her. Picture perfect composure. “I’d run them off the road, but these dog-leg turns are tricky, and you’re in the car. So we don’t out run ‘em. We draw them out and eliminate the problem.”

“Eliminate the problem?”

Winters tilted his head. Spelling it out wasn’t going to happen. She could use her imagination if she needed further clarification.

“Extrapolate, Mia.” He massaged his neck, pushing away tension. “They’ve sped past us, dropped back, and paced us, maintaining a variable visual since we crossed the state line. Next time they drop back, I’ll pull into a truck stop. They’ll find us. Guaranteed. I’ll deal with the situation, and we’ll hit the road again. Sound like a plan?”

She jutted her chin up. “Whatever you need me to do, I’ll handle fine. I’m not helpless.”

“I noticed that about fifteen hours ago.”

He reached over to put his hand over hers, interlacing their fingers. Tingles skipped up his arm. He hadn’t pulled a move like that since he got a set of wheels in high school. His end goal had been trying to nail some action. Her hand squeezed his, cascading another rush of sensation along his skin. Maybe his goals hadn’t changed that much, but it felt a little bizarre. Less about the end goal and more about the moment. Or some shit like that.

Mia turned in her seat, still keeping her hand in his. “You’re so casual.”

“You want me to get all triggered up?” He checked the mirror for the tails again. He’d be ready, even if the woman next to him was distraction-worthy.

“You’re acting like someone isn’t trying to kill us.”

“It’s not the first time, and it’s sure as hell not going to be the last. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” God help the men chasing her. “And I don’t scare.”

His thumb caressed the top of her hand. Engaging the enemy was an expected part of his operational to do list, but it must have been a nightmare for her. He wanted her to feel safe with him. He wanted her to trust him.

“But I’m scared, Colby.” Mia chewed her bottom lip.

“I know you are. Don’t worry. I promise you, it’ll be okay.” He tightened his grip and brought her fist to his mouth. He kissed her knuckles and pressed her folded fingers against his lips. She was sweet, but under it all, she was a woman who could hold her own. He should have known that when she wielded her kneecap as a weapon. Mia blasted every one of his preconceived notions. Untrained women in the field weren’t weak as he assumed.