The party pooper shook his head in her peripheral vision.

“Open.” She held a piece to his lips.

Luke shook his head.

“You have to.”

Another shake.

“How are we going to swap gum in a few minutes if you don’t have a piece?”

“We’re not going—”

She shoved it in his mouth.

“You’re going to make me drive off the road.”

She grinned. “Then you should have let me drive. I’m an excellent driver.”

“Okay, Rain Man.” His response mumbled over the huge wad of gum.

“It’s true. It’s even possible that I was trained by a professional stuntman and former sprint car driver in the uh … art of high-speed chasing.”

Luke shot a quick sideways glance and several seconds later he shot her another with a look that fell somewhere between shock and horror. Jessica shrugged.

“I’m not sure I can marry you and not know everything about you.”

“Only if you marry me will you ever know everything about me. Think of it as a wedding gift.” She laughed, but it was a painful laugh. Nothing about G.A.I.L felt like a gift. It was a curse, one that not even death could destroy.

*

Only death would keep Luke from Jessica. One day he would marry her. One day he would know everything. Until then it didn’t matter. A feeling deep in his gut told him her secrets were so much bigger than either one of them. He saw it in the way her eyes pleaded with him to trust her.

However, they had much bigger issues to deal with at the moment. The love of his life had a serious addiction to Staples, which resulted in him being force-fed watermelon bubblegum—the worst possible flavor.

“Right here.” She pointed to a deserted scenic overlook.

He pulled into the gravel parking area.

“Did you bring a picnic blanket?” She peered at him over the frames of her glasses that sat low on her nose.

He slid his glasses down to mirror her serious look. “Yes. My mom gave me one.”

She smirked. “It’s probably the same one she and your dad wrapped around their wet naked bodies last night.”

He wrinkled his nose.

“Time to swap.” She leaned over and kissed him, running her tongue along the seam of his lips. “You suck at this,” she mumbled against his mouth. Then she pushed her gum into his mouth.

“What are you—”

“Give me your gum.” She teased his upper lip with the tip of her tongue, beckoning him to give it to her.

He shoved it in her mouth. The nasty watermelon taste almost ruined his favorite flavor—Jessica Day.

“You never swapped gum with a girl, did you?”

“Sorry.” He shrugged as she sat back in her seat.

Jessica sighed. “The first time I swapped gum was with a girl in fourth grade.”

Luke almost choked on his gum. “What?”

“Tina Reeves. She was “going with” a fifth grade boy. A rumor had been floating around that he was planning on French kissing Tina after school. She freaked out because she hadn’t ever kissed a boy, let alone French kissed. So I offered to teach her.”

Luke raised his usual skeptical brow. “You’d French kissed someone by the fourth grade?”

“No … not until Tina.”

Jessica’s unpredictability never ceased to amaze him.

“But I’d seen it in the movies. It basically looked like two people trying to swap gum. Fifteen minutes in my bedroom with a Madonna CD and two pieces of grape Hubba Bubba later, Tina was quite the French kisser.”

“How generous of you.”

“Anything to help out a friend.”

The woman before him had singlehandedly taken the life of a serial killer one unforgiving cut at a time. Even on their blind date when she bit him in the closet, she wasn’t a killer. He never knew that Jessica. All she had ever wanted to be with him was the Hubba Bubba girl who liked skinny dipping, wet dog kisses, and apparently Staples. Luke knew he would spend the rest of his life, giving her that life—giving her back her innocence.

“I’m starving.”

He nodded, not realizing how long he’d been staring at her. “Let’s eat.”

They spread out the blanket on a large boulder with a beautiful panoramic view of the lake.

“Which part of the blanket do you think hugged your dad’s balls?”

“Probably two inches from the part that flossed his crack.”

“Oh my God!” Her eyes grew wide. “I can’t believe you said that. How very un-Jones of you.” She laughed. “I fear I’ve tainted you.”

They sat side by side on the rock with their legs dangling off the edge, sandwiches in hand. Jessica nudged his shoulder.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Skinny dipping, waiting by the register at Staples, swapping gum … letting me experience life with you.”

“The experience is mine.”

With a furrowed brow, she looked up at him. “What are you experiencing?”

He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “You. You’re the greatest experience of my life.”

She shoved a bite of sandwich into her mouth and mumbled over it like the well-mannered lady she’d never be. “That’s just … sad for you.”

Luke watched her look out at the lake. He didn’t miss the glassy tears that attempted to pool in her eyes. Would she ever feel worthy of true, heart-stopping, soul-shattering love? He hoped so because it’s all he had to give her.

*

Her favorite doctor had been right: surrendering took as much strength as it did control. Every day she gave him a piece of her past in exchange for his future. As much as she wanted—needed—his love, accepting it took practice. A voice in her head kept reminding her to just “shut up and let him love you.”

“The day will come that I don’t want to kill Trigger, right?”

Luke sucked in a slow, deep breath. “I hope so. Maybe it will be the same day I care if Fran dies.”

Jessica tilted her head, resting it on his arm. “You care. You just haven’t let yourself feel it yet. Feelings are who we are … actions are what we’ve become. I became a killer. I just have yet to feel bad about it. But I hope to God that someday I do. Killers don’t feel remorse. If that day comes … I’ll finally be the woman you see. I’ve caught a glimpse of her in your eyes, and I can’t help but envy her.”

Luke twisted around and hopped off the boulder then offered his hand to her. “It’s funny how we don’t recognize our own reflections, but the one thing about them is they never lie.”

Taking his hand she jumped down. “Dr. Jones, you should have majored in philosophy. On a more positive topic … what’s your theory on me driving back to your parents?”

“I don’t have a theory, just a fact.”

“Really? Enlighten me.”

“You will not be driving my car.”

She made a horn-like buzzing sound. “Wrong answer.”

He folded the blanket and grabbed their empty bags then opened the trunk.

“Let me enlighten you. I’m going to strip, and ride your cock on the hood of your shiny red GTO, not giving a damn what passersby think until you—”

“Yeah all of that.” He gestured to his arms full with the big blanket and the lunch bags. “Would you grab the first aid kit? I scraped my ankle on the rock over there.”

She looked at the little box with the red cross on it. With a huff, she leaned into the trunk to reach it at the back, squirming until nearly three-fourths of her short stature was inside.

“Fuck!” She fell … no she was shoved into the trunk and he closed it on her. He. Locked. Her. In. The. Trunk.

“As much as I like you riding my cock, and in spite of last night’s bonding with my parents, I’m not an exhibitionist. And I just put a new coat of wax on her the other day so I’m not going to leave my ass print on the hood.” He knocked twice on the trunk. “Hope you’re not claustrophobic, but if you are, I’m pretty sure I just bought you some electric pillar candles in one of those sacks. They should take the edge off. Hold on tight, I’ll go slow.”

“Die. YOU. WILL. DIE!”