Xtreme Behavior (Xtreme Ops Book 3)

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Xtreme Behavior (Xtreme Ops Book 3) Page 5

by Em Petrova

She issued a slow, easy breath hoping to cover the craziness going on in her brain.

  “See you around, Broshears.” She didn’t give a damn right now about his reasons for challenging Hunt.

  His gaze traveled over her for a silent moment, leaving her prickling under the hot intensity. She needed to get away and time to process her thoughts.

  She opened her truck door, and he stepped back. “Night, Viv.” His voice pitched lower. “Drive safe.”

  She jumped behind the wheel and sped home as fast as possible. More than anything she wished she could confide her suspicions to her father. He’d know what to do.

  A deep inner voice spoke up from the fog of her questions.

  I am his daughter—and I can handle myself.

  Broshears pulled up in front of Vivian’s house and parked behind her truck. If he had to bar her from leaving to get his way… Well, he’d go to much bigger lengths, truth be told.

  Today she was riding with him to the facility, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer. The previous night, he’d spent long hours tossing, turning and checking his clock, but no amount of time spent thinking about Vivian told him why she drove him so crazy. Not to mention his jaw was sore this morning, because the thought of her late coffee date with Hunt Cason made him gnash his teeth.

  His training kicked in, and he stared at the house and every shadow of darkness that touched it. Did the woman have a security system? Window locks? How many locks did she have on her doors?

  Of course, she had Zack for protection, but a person could disable a dog easy enough.

  With an hour drive ahead, they had to leave early, and the blue numbers on the dashboard clock showed it was slightly past four in the morning. The dog would have already alerted her as to his presence in the driveway.

  Sure enough, he saw the light come on and a shape in the narrow window flanking the door. He could almost imagine her rolling her eyes at seeing him sitting there.

  He waited in silence, trying not to wonder whether her damn coffee kept her up last night. He still burned that Hunt knew how she took her coffee—then again, they’d worked together for years. Back when her father ran the show.

  Some digging into her past revealed her father had died on the job and she was on the scene. Broshears knew firsthand how painful such things were. Though losing men wasn’t the same as losing a father.

  When she popped up by his window, he rolled it down. They faced each other through darkness and a fog of cold air. Damn if he couldn’t still smell her light floral scent, though.

  “What the hell are you doing parked in my driveway at this hour, Broshears?”

  “Good to see you have the same sass even early in the morning. I didn’t want to wait to hear it.” He flicked his head toward the passenger seat. “Get in.”

  “I’ll drive myself.”

  “No, you won’t. Captain’s orders.” He wasn’t above telling this lie to get his way, not in this case.

  She groaned. “Fine. Pop the liftgate open. I’ll put Zack’s crate in.”

  “I’ll help.” Before she denied his assistance—as he knew she would—he jumped out and followed her to the house.

  The dog already waited by the door and greeted him with a tail thump on the floor. Broshears bent to scratch his ears and talk to him, aware of Vivian standing a few feet off watching. He got the feeling she was putting him through a battery of tests in the same way a single mother would with a person speaking to her child.

  He straightened and looked for the cage. It sat off to the side, but he took in everything about her personal quarters in a single sweep of his gaze.

  She was such a hard ass that it surprised him she’d possess anything feminine at all, yet a pair of high heels sat next to some boots at the door. For some reason, it irritated him that he wouldn’t get to take her out on the town and see her wear them. Did Hunt?

  Fuck.

  He grabbed the cage and carried it to his vehicle. She followed with Zack and urged him into the rear, where he circled the cage once and sat.

  “That all you need?” Broshears asked her.

  “Yup.”

  A minute later they were on the road, with his dick already shoving at his fly from having her seated so close—and drowning in memories of parting her thighs and delving his tongue into her slick, heated folds. Christ, he could taste her on his lips, hear her little cries…

  “Why was it imperative that we drive together?” Her question roused him from his temporary insanity.

  So I can stop and have my way with you.

  Okay, maybe his mind still wasn’t all there when it came to lusting over Vivian Valentine.

  He shrugged. “Penn didn’t say. He told me to pick you up at four.”

  She said nothing.

  “Why do you keep Zack in his cage when you drive?”

  She looked at him. “What?”

  “Why doesn’t he get the back seat like most pets?”

  “Because he isn’t a pet. He’s a service dog, and he expects boundaries.”

  “I see.”

  They headed out of Anchorage and hit the road north toward the postal facility. Broshears threw a look at her profile.

  “Are you tired this morning?”

  “Not particularly, why?”

  “I wondered if your late-night caffeine run kept you awake.”

  “Oh… No, I slept.”

  He compressed his lips against asking more about her and Hunt. What did he care anyway? She was free to date…and sleep with men in airport closets.

  He stared at her long and hard. Her pert nose, the softness of her lips and the delicate curve of her cheek made him clamp down harder on the steering wheel.

  “Why are you gawking at me?” she asked.

  “Can’t a man offer you his attention without you thinking he has a motive?”

  “No.”

  “Why the hell not?” He raised a hand and dug his fingers through his hair.

  She followed his movement. “You have a motive, Broshears.”

  “And what the hell would that be?” He was losing his cool for no damn reason and couldn’t think of how to stop.

  “I suspect you think you can pull off at a rest stop and find another closet we can slip into.”

  Christ, her words came out as a near-pant. Did she know it? He stared at her for a throbbing heartbeat.

  “News bulletin—I’m actually capable of controlling myself.”

  “Okay,” she said breezily.

  “You think I’m lying? I only touched you that day because…” He broke off, questioning for the ten millionth time why he had. He still didn’t know.

  “Because what?” she asked.

  “Do you know why?” He turned the tables on her. Maybe she could provide a sane reason as to why he’d ripped the pages from the rulebook and lit a match to them that day.

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

  “Well, why did you say yes? And don’t claim you were drunk, because you knew damn well who I was and what you were doing.”

  She caught her teeth in her lip. Even through the dim light of early day, seeing that brought a growl of want to his throat.

  She whipped her head so fast he wondered if she’d snapped her neck. “Let it drop, Broshears.”

  He stared into her eyes.

  “Please.” Her voice pitched lower, the tone picking at his emotions.

  He let it drop—for now—and faced the windshield again. If he survived working with her and managed to keep his hands to himself, it’d be a damn miracle.

  Watching Vivian and Zack in action always attracted Broshears’ interest. He’d seen them at work in the mountains on a search and rescue his team stepped in to help with. After over 400 man hours searching for a group of skiers, Broshears had mad respect for the handler and her dog.

  As they zipped through the facility, he waited in the wings on several occasions to keep from adding more distractions. But Zack was the most focused animal he’d ever enco
untered. With so much to see and sniff, he never once shifted his focus.

  Vivian led the animal through the conveyor belts. He sniffed every package. At one point, she stopped Zack and knelt before him, speaking softly in praise.

  “All okay?” Broshears asked.

  She threw him a sideways glance. “It’s a lot of pressure for him.”

  “For both of you.”

  She returned her attention to Zack and rubbed his furry chest. “Yes. Lives are at stake here, and it isn’t a training session.”

  “And Zack knows that?”

  “Of course he does.” Her face was flushed from the exertion of crisscrossing every inch of space in the facility, and a sheen of perspiration stood out on her cheekbones.

  He forced his hands to remain at his sides and not reach for her. “Can I get you two anything? A drink?”

  “Yes, thanks. We’ll take a short break.”

  “Be right back.” He walked out to his vehicle to grab some waters from the small cooler he traveled with. Any self-respecting Alaskan kept water and blankets in their vehicle because one never knew what they’d face in this rugged terrain.

  He carried the water back and found Vivian squatting next to Zack. Broshears held out the water for her, and she took it. He watched as she pulled a small rubbery item from the pocket of her cargo pants.

  “You carry a bowl with you?”

  “I don’t want him drinking out of fetid puddles.” She poured most of the water into Zack’s bowl and then drank off the remainder of the bottle herself. Broshears handed her a second bottle.

  “That’s yours,” she said with a hint of surprise.

  He shrugged.

  She took it and drank again before refilling Zack’s with what was left of the water.

  Broshears grew fascinated watching her relationship with her dog, which could only be called symbiotic. Their commitment to taking care of each other continued after their work finished. Zack clearly adored Vivian, and she loved him in return.

  After a short breather, they took up again, searching every inch and each piece of mail.

  Finally, at the loading dock, Zack circled a package, came back to it…and sat.

  Broshears hurried forward. “He’s got one?”

  “That’s what he’s indicating, yes.”

  “Okay, alert the workers who let us in to evacuate the area while I get suited up to handle the explosive.”

  Vivian gazed at him as if she might say something. At last, she nodded and walked to the rear of the building. She called out to the employees to leave the premises while Broshears started to his vehicle.

  He made it a few strides when he heard footsteps behind him.

  He paused for Vivian to catch up. “What is it?”

  “Uh…you’re really going to check out this explosive on your own? Without your team as backup?”

  “I’m trained to handle any explosive.”

  “Okay, but shouldn’t you have someone help you? What if you require someone to snip a wire or something?”

  He chuckled. “It doesn’t quite work like that, but I’ll be fine.”

  She shifted from foot to foot, and Zack looked up at her, gauging her emotions. Broshears studied her closer.

  “Are you worried about me?”

  “Of course not.” She shrugged as if casting off an unwanted jacket he’d placed on her shoulders. “I just don’t want to see you…get into trouble for going against protocol.”

  He twisted his lips. “I see.”

  She waved a hand. “Go on. Do what you have to. Zack and I have more work to do. I’m concerned about missing something.”

  “Wait for me.”

  She took a few laps in the parking lot while he put in a call to his captain and donned the protective gear and helmet. When he approached Vivian again, she shook her head. “You’re certain you don’t want backup?”

  “Honey, listen to me.”

  “I’m not your honey,” she snapped.

  “All right,” he said with a sense of urgency at the situation. “But you trust your dog and I trust my training. Both of us are right to do so. Now I’m going to ask you to search the rest of the dock and if nothing else is found, leave the premises.”

  Vivian stared up at him. “That’s too much to ask. I’m not leaving.”

  “You’ll do as I ask you when it comes to this matter. I can’t have you in the area if something goes wrong.” He flipped through his screen as he spoke, checking all the diagrams Lipton sent him.

  He glanced up to see her delicate throat work with a swallow. She gave him a swift nod.

  “Stay away from that package as you search.”

  She threw him a dirty look as if to question how dumb he believed her to be. He bit off a smile at having her riled once again.

  After she finished, he waved for her to leave. She hesitated, and for a second he thought she might have another reason for not wanting him to be alone with the explosive—like she worried for his safety.

  “Go on, Valentine. I’ll be with you guys in a bit.”

  She turned and started to move off. Then she whirled back with, “Good luck, Broshears.”

  He nodded and got Lipton, on the phone as he crouched beside the package. It was a regular rectangular shape and wrapped in brown paper the same as both package bombs. However, a look at the address showed him a major difference—this box wasn’t addressed by hand but instead used a shipping label printed at home.

  As he and Lipton discussed ways to further inspect the package, he noticed movement from the corner of his eye. When he looked up and saw Vivian standing a short distance away—and not ‘off the premises’ as he’d told her, he asked Lipton to give him a minute.

  In a few strides he reached Vivian. “What are you doing? I told you to go.”

  “And I decided I’m staying with you.” Damn if she didn’t lift her jaw in a defiant way that had his gut clenching with more than the urge to tell her off for her own good.

  “Look, Vivian. I can’t concentrate with you here as a distraction. My job is to ensure the vicinity’s been cleared.”

  “I can be of assistance to you. I’ve been around a lot of explosives over the years of working as a handler, Broshears.” A distant light edged into her cognac-colored eyes, and he remembered what he’d read in her file about her father.

  “I know you have,” he said as gently as possible. “I’m not questioning your ability—I’m asking you to give me space to work and not worry about you or Zack getting hurt.”

  “I’m not worried about that.”

  Irritation rolled over him. He’d seen a similar response in her before. And he was beginning to see that she threw caution to the Alaskan wind way more often than a play-by-the-rules kind of guy like him could stand for.

  He had one option.

  He took a step toward her. Her eyes widened at him suddenly invading her personal space. “I can see the only way to get you out of the way is to tie you up, Valentine.”

  Her lips parted on a gasp. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Try me.”

  “You don’t have anything to tie me up with,” she challenged.

  From the pocket of his protective gear, he withdrew some zip-ties left over from another mission.

  She backed up a full step, and he continued to walk her toward the exit.

  “Hold out your wrists, Vivian.”

  She shook her head.

  He smiled. “Then let me work. I promise I won’t do anything stupid to get myself killed.”

  “As if I’m worried about that.” She flicked her gaze over him before walking out. He made sure she actually left this time by watching her walk to the vehicle where Zack was safely distanced from the scene.

  “Broshears?” Lipton’s voice projected from his speakerphone. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “Taking care of some business before I begin. What do you think, Lip? Do I take this outside and detonate it?”

  “That’s exactly what
I was thinkin’,” he drawled out with a hint of amusement. “I’m just damn sorry I’ll miss the fireworks.”

  Chapter Four

  Vivian’s gaze was locked on the safe, contained place where Broshears positioned the package, but she felt Zack’s body jerk when the blast came.

  The entire city block had been evacuated. The bomb squad and Penn, who’d arrived on scene, stood by waiting for Broshears to push that button. When he did, debris flew outward, contained within the impermeable plastic surrounding the explosive.

  She curled her fingers into Zack’s fur. That shrapnel would have killed another person.

  “Good job, boy. You found it.” She crouched to encircle her dog in her arms, and he kissed her cheek with a swipe of his wet tongue.

  For a moment, she kept her stare locked on where Broshears stood talking with Penn. Her mind was curiously blank considering the events of the day. Her early-morning drive with him might as well have been days ago, because the hours had been so jam-packed with action.

  As she looked on, he pivoted and fixed his attention on her. She rose, and Zack straightened at her side. Broshears said something to his captain and they moved to inspect the package.

  She hurried forward with Zack. Broshears moved aside the plastic surrounding the package and held up his device to snap some after photos of the bomb. At her approach, he waved her off. “There might be harmful substances,” he told her.

  She tried to peek around him, but his big body blocked her view. “At least send me those photos.”

  “I will.”

  Satisfied he’d agreed to that much, she took hold of Zack and started leading him in and out of the various loading bays. They worked the area for another hour before her phone vibrated with incoming messages.

  She glanced at the screen and saw the photos Broshears promised. A gasp trickled past her lips at the clear view of the container that concealed the bomb material from the scanners. Twisted, fractured metal sat in the center of the blackened paper wrapping.

  Scrolling down, she brought another photo in view. This of the package from several angles before detonation. She zoomed in on the shipping label. The printed address meant nothing to her, and there were no handwritten Ms for her to analyze.

 

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