They followed David to his truck. He tossed Missy’s suitcase in the back. She sat between the men, staring out the windshield.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“We’re not exactly sure. We think he got a call from Angela Ramirez’s son. Her ex-boyfriend showed up drunk and half out of his mind. Dad went over there and tried to calm the guy down. He got stabbed.”
“Why didn’t he call the police?” she asked, ticking off familiar landmarks as they slid by in pre-dawn light.
“I think Angela Ramirez is here illegally.”
“And Dad thought nothing of his own safety,” Missy grumbled. “He was only worried that a member of his congregation was in trouble.”
Beside her, Sebastian tensed. “Congregation?”
She’d never told her boss about her family or her upbringing and he’d never inquired about her past. Hopefully that wasn’t about to blow up in her face.
“Didn’t Missy tell you?” David piped up. “Our dad’s a pastor.”
Eight
Rarely was Sebastian struck dumb.
Missy was a preacher’s daughter? How had she worked for him for four years and not shared that bit of news? Did he know her at all?
Unbidden, doubts rushed in. He’d known very little about Chandra before letting his passion get the better of him, and look how that had turned out. Her supposedly pregnant. Them married. Him discovering her lies and manipulation.
Now history was repeating itself with Missy. With her sexy curves and knack for shattering his restraint, she’d ignited his desire, made him lose control, and once again, he’d moved too fast.
Sebastian rubbed his cheek, hearing the rasp of stubble. He’d left without packing a bag, figuring he’d accompany Missy to the hospital, find out how her father was doing and then leave her in her family’s care. Now he wished he’d never gotten on the plane in Las Vegas and never found out this tidbit about her origins.
“No,” he said, rediscovering his voice. “She never mentioned that.”
From the way she stared straight ahead, her eyes fixed on the road before them, he figured she had a pretty good idea how frustrated he was at the moment. He couldn’t wait to get her alone so he could hear her reasons for keeping him in the dark.
Or did the blame lie at his feet?
How come he’d never asked about her family? Pressed her for details about growing up in west Texas. He’d taken and taken. Her free time. Her loyalty. Her expertise. And he couldn’t even remember her birthday. Missy deserved better.
He glanced her way. Her fixed gaze and frozen expression confirmed that she wasn’t happy. He rubbed his forehead.
“I’m not surprised,” David said, appearing unaware of the tension that filled the pickup’s cab. “She never acted like one growing up.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” Sebastian said.
“Wild.” David slapped the steering wheel. “That’s the best way to describe my sister.”
“That’s just not true,” Missy protested. “I didn’t act any different than any of my classmates.”
“Oh, I don’t know. You pushed things pretty far.”
“That surprises me,” Sebastian said. “She certainly doesn’t give the appearance of someone with a checkered past.”
“Checkered?” Missy shot him a warning look. “I’d hardly call staying out past curfew and drinking with my friends worthy of being called a checkered past. It was all the regular stuff teenagers get into.”
“No stealing cars to go joyriding?”
“No.”
“There was that time you and Jimmy McCray got stopped coming back from the lake.”