She winked at him in the mirror. “Good boy.”
Emily buzzed down her window as Nash drew near, his hand hovering over the weapon on his hip. Force of habit? Did Border Patrol agents make traffic stops?
She called out in a singsong voice, “Hey, you. What are you doing home so early?”
“Cut the engine.” His tone lashed her, and she jerked her head back from the window.
She also obeyed his command, her fingers fumbling with the keys in the ignition. She left them swinging there. He must be angry that she’d taken Wyatt for a ride without telling him first.
She ran her tongue along her dry teeth. “Wyatt was cranky and restless, so I thought a drive might calm him down.”
“Stop with the lies, Emily, and get out of the car. Put your hands where I can see them. You know the drill, Officer Lang.”
Her blood ran cold in her veins. Busted. How had he discovered her true identity?
“I—I can explain. I don’t mean any harm to Wyatt.”
“Stick your hands through the open window and step out, keeping them in front of you, when I open the door.”
She swallowed and slid a glance to the side. At least he didn’t have his weapon drawn, but that could change if she didn’t comply.
She twisted to her left and stuck her hands out the window, wiggling her fingers to show him she didn’t have anything.
He stepped toward the door, the leather of his equipment belt creaking. She knew the sound of that belt intimidated suspects—and she understood why.
The doors of her car had automatically unlocked when she turned off the engine, and Nash reached over and opened the door with her arms hanging through the window.
She did know the drill—had applied it many times herself before she went rogue. She stepped out of the car with her arms still outstretched, and she looked at her reflection in his sunglasses for a split second before he commanded her to turn around and face the car.
She pulled her arms from the open window and turned toward the car, looking at Wyatt in the back seat kicking his legs in excitement at the sound of Nash’s voice.
“Hands on the car, legs apart. Do you have any weapons on you?”
“C’mon, Nash. I’m not kidnapping Wyatt.” Well, technically she was kidnapping Wyatt, but it was for a greater good. She’d make Nash see that once he stopped this tough-cop routine.
He nudged her leg to the side with his boot and patted her down—not exactly how she’d imagined their first physical contact to go.
“Any weapons in the car?” His voice dismissed any familiarity or...fondness between them.
“In the side pocket of my purse on the passenger seat—a .22 Smith & Wesson.”
He sucked in a breath behind her and slammed the driver’s-side door shut. “Now you’re gonna tell me what the hell you want with Jaycee Lemoin’s baby. Then I’m gonna call the police to pick you up for attempted kidnapping.”
“Like this?” She lifted one hand from the car. “Can we talk like reasonable people?”
“Are you a reasonable person, Emily? Do reasonable people lie about who they are to get close to...a baby and then take off with that baby? Do reasonable people create identities and references and fake lives?”
“Private investigators do when they’re working a case.”
“A case? Wyatt is a case?”
“Yes, he is. I’m working for his father. I’m trying to keep him safe because he is in danger, and not just from his flighty mother, whom you seem to have a soft spot for to the extent of protecting her when she doesn’t deserve it. Jaycee abandoned her baby, and you know it.”
A car sped by in the other direction and honked. Emily jumped. The longer she stood exposed out here with Wyatt in the car, the better the chance the real criminals would move in on them.
“You’re working for Wyatt’s father?” He prodded her in the back with his knuckle. “Turn around.”
With her hands out to her sides, she rolled on the car to face him. “Wyatt’s father hired me to keep an eye on Wyatt until he can get his results back from a DNA test and make a move for custody.”
“You can drop your hands.”
Nash pushed his sunglasses on top of his head, and Emily let out a breath when she finally got to look into those blue eyes. She could make him understand better when he was the Nash she knew instead of the law.
“Is that his story, or are you lying to me...again?”
“Story? It’s not anybody’s story. A client hired me in Phoenix to follow Jaycee and the baby. When Jaycee split off from the baby, my orders were to stay with Wyatt, which I did.”
“Stay with Wyatt until you could kidnap him? What kind of father would do that to the mother of his child?”
“No.” She shook her head, and a gust of wind from a passing car whipped her hair across her face. She pushed it out of the way and held it in a ponytail. “The kidnapping was my idea.”
Nash’s jaw formed a hard line, and one hand clenched into a fist. “At least you’re starting to tell the truth now.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” She waved her hand as if she could dispel all the tension between them—only, it wasn’t the sexual kind this time. “Wyatt is in real danger and not from me or his father.”
“Yeah, yeah, Jaycee is an unfit mother.”
“I’m not even talking about Jaycee.” Another car roared past, and a shower of dust peppered her face. “Can we please sit in the car and finish this discussion?”
“With your gun?”
She smacked her palm against her forehead. “Take the damned thing. I told you. It’s in my purse. You can even point it at me if it would make you feel better. Wyatt needs the AC.”
Nash opened the driver’s-side door and motioned her to the back. “Get in the passenger
