Maybe not.
“Hungry?” he asked from the front seat as he parked on an empty pad in the campground and cut the engine.
His idea of a meal seemed to be lots of eggs or chicken with a steady diet of broccoli and rice. She wasn’t accustomed to eating so much or so often, even if the fresh, hot food that she hadn’t had to cook was good. “No.”
He glanced at his phone. “It’s five o’clock. You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
And he had—twice. Where did he put all that food?
She shrugged. “I am not hungry.”
“Not eating isn’t good for you.” He pocketed the RV key and headed her way, looming above her while she sat at the dining table.
“Neither is eating too much. Why are we stopping here? When will you take me to my sister?”
“When we’ve made sure the safe house is actually safe.”
“EM Security has yet to manage that feat. When did safety begin to matter?”
He sighed. “It always did, Laila.”
“Then why did my brother-in-law and his men find all the houses your organization swore were safe?”
“We’re working overtime to figure that out. Don’t worry.”
“Because I should simply trust you—a man I have known for two days?” She raised a brow. “What happens if I choose not to concern myself and the cartel finds me and my family again? Should I also not worry as they drag Valeria and me into the desert to make a quick end of us, then raise Jorge to be a criminal?”
Trees scowled. “Don’t worry about it because, other than protecting you, figuring this out is my sole focus. I won’t let anything happen.”
He’d said such things before. Some foolish part of her wanted to believe him, but life had proven that no one would solve her problems but her. It seemed clear that someone in EM Security Management was selling their secrets to Emilo’s men. Valeria didn’t want to believe that, but Laila knew. Until that problem was addressed, they were all in danger.
“And you’re changing the subject,” he pointed out. “Skipping dinner isn’t acceptable. Tell me what you want. I’ll do my best to make it.”
Victor and Hector had always expected her to cook for them before one or the other—or both—stripped her down and violated her. Trees had prepared his own meals when she had not been hungry. That had surprised her, but the fact he wasn’t forcing her to do what Victor considered “women’s work” shocked her far more.
“Carne asada.” That’s what she wanted—not that she expected him to actually make it.
“I’ll do my best. Why don’t you take a shower?”
“I am fine.”
“It’s been nearly two days since you bathed.” He dropped his voice to that low, silky tone she found difficult to disobey. “It wasn’t a request.”
“Will you force me?”
He scowled. “Have I truly forced you to do anything against your will?”
Not really. In that, he was light years better than Victor and Hector. But that didn’t automatically make him a good guy. “What if I refuse?”
“I’ll take your phone so you can’t speak to your sister tonight.”
Laila fumed. Trees wasn’t forcing her in a physical sense, but he was coercing her to choose between her family and her sense of safety. That was no choice at all. Laila needed to hear that her sister and her nephew were well far more than she needed to protect herself.
“All right.”
She made her way to Jorge’s diaper bag, where she had stowed her other outfit she had washed by hand last night. Then she retreated to the bathroom, half expecting Trees would barge his way into the little room and take advantage of her while she was naked and vulnerable, despite supposedly being one of the “good guys”—if there was such a thing.
Laila rushed through her shower, but his intrusion never came. When she stepped out of the enclosure to towel off, the scent of grilling meat and spices filled her nose. She wriggled into her clothes, then wrapped a towel around her clean hair and whisked the bathroom door open. Trees hunched over the kitchen counter, chopping peppers as steak sizzled on the griddle pan he’d set over the gas burners.
He turned to her with a half grin. “Smell good?”
Delicious, but that wasn’t what grabbed Laila’s attention. She had not seen Trees smile before. It transformed the most forbidding lines of his hard face into something both beautiful and almost boyish.
Had she just found a man attractive?
“It does.”
“I didn’t have all the ingredients, and I didn’t have a couple of hours to marinate the meat, but the recipe I found online called for a sauce I hope will give it some kick. We should be ready to eat in a few minutes.” He reached into a nearby cabinet. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
While he cooked?
She did. He said nothing for the next five minutes, simply focused on the meat hissing in the pan while he opened a can of refried beans and spiced it up with salsa.