It Takes Two

by Allie K. Adams

  “Perfect. While I make the Bowmans a real drink and leave the champagne to you, I’ll let Jeremy explain the situation. That’s sort of his thing. I’m more the bronze of the partnership.”

  “You mean brawn?”

  “Bronze. Brawn.” He shrugged. “Whatever.”

  She stared at Jeremy, waiting for another round of lies to fall from his irritatingly beautiful mouth. He brought the ice back up to his forehead as he closed his eyes. “I really suck at this.”

  “And what’s this?”

  “You. I can talk to everyone from the president to the groundskeeper without skipping a beat.”

  “He has,” Jason cut in.

  “I know several languages.”

  “He does,” Jason added and shrugged when his brother thinned his lips. “What? You do.”

  “Don’t you have drinks to make?”

  Jason rolled his eyes and mixed two drinks.

  Jeremy shook his head and turned from his brother to regard Bree. “I know what a person is going to say before he or she says it based solely on body language.” He lowered the ice and hit her with that penetrating gaze. “Except when it comes to you. It’s like I’m back in high school, falling over myself to impress you with something witty to say. Instead, I’m just screwing up.”

  Jason rejoined them on the couch. “Here’s to the king of screwing up.” He handed his brother a glass full of amber liquid. Jeremy threw him a glare and accepted the drink. “Don’t look at me like that, bro. I told you to let me handle this.”

  Bree drew in a rough breath at that little tidbit. “Handle what?”

  “You. Jeremy can’t close a deal to save his life. I always have to close it.”

  “Deal?” She whipped her attention between them as anger surged in her veins, shooting through her muscles. “So now I’m a deal?”

  “Quit taking my words and twisting them,” Jason snapped. “Jesus. Women always do that shit.”

  “You aren’t getting any closer to closing a deal, buddy.” Bree glared at him, her fantasy collapsing around her as reality set in. She’d never have one Bowman, let alone both. “If either of you think for one minute I believe this bullshit about my life being in danger or being on a forced vacation…” She trailed off as she nodded at Jeremy. “You aren’t the same person I remember.”

  “I think we should tell her,” Jeremy said to his brother. “That way she’ll at least understand who sent us here.”

  “No way, bro. There’s a reason they call TREX a covert agency.”

  Again with TREX. Bree refused to let it go this time. They’d tell her the truth or they’d be out on their seriously fine asses. “What’s TREX?”

  “Tactical Retrieval Experts.” Jeremy took a long pull off his drink when Bree blinked at him, baffled. “That’s what TREX stands for.”

  “We find things,” Jason added. “It’s what we do.”

  “You find things? I’ve never heard of such a thing.” And she didn’t believe a word.

  “TREX is in covert operations. The agency spends a lot of time, resources, and money to stay under the radar.”

  “Convenient.” She crossed her arms. “What exactly do you do for this TREX?”

  Jason rested his gaze on her. “Personal protection. I’m in what we call a frontline division. Basically, I’m a field agent. My team and I protect people of power, those privy to information that, if it fell into the wrong hands, would be a threat to national security. It’s my job to make sure that never happens.”

  This sounded like something from a movie. “I suppose next you’ll tell me you have a specific set of skills geared toward my protection?”

  “Something like that.” His lips kicked up into a grin. “Jeremy is in a sideline division.”

  “Doing what, exactly?”

  “Forensics,” Jeremy explained.

  “Like CSI?”

  “More like the accountant to the CSI.” Jason laughed when Jeremy threw an ice cube at him. “What? Your job is boring. I get to beat them up, and you get to do their taxes.”

  “I really hate you right now.” Jeremy glared at his twin.

  “Wait.” Bree brought up a hand. “So, you two are on leave from some covert agency I’ve never heard of to…what? How do I play into any of this story you two made up?”

  Jeremy thrust his fingers through his hair, something he used to always do when he got frustrated. “Look, Bree. I know how this sounds.”

  “Do you?” She lifted an eyebrow. “Because I don’t know whether to be scared shitless that you two are serious, or to be scared shitless that you two are so delusional that you really believe the bullshit falling from your lips. So, which is it?”

  “We’re going to have to tell her why,” Jeremy admitted and set his drink on the table.

  “No, we don’t.” Jason set his next to it. “Don’t be stupid, Jer. The target should never know your true intentions until it’s too late. That’s one of the rules.”

  “It’s not my rule.”

  “Target?” Bree choked on the word, her heart now in her throat. “I’m a target?”

  “Son of a bitch.” Jeremy closed in and took Bree’s hand in his. She didn’t like the way it warmed her and how that heat crawled up her arm. “Look at me. Damn it, Breanne. Look at me, not him.” He waited until she did. Their gazes collided and robbed her of the ability to do anything but wait for whatever he said next. “I’m in TREX’s intel division. We feed the frontline divisions with the intel they need to make the find. Each and every one of us really do have a specific set of skills. Mine is forensics.”

  “And I get paid to beat the shit out of people.” Jason finished his drink. “My job is way more fun.”

  “It’s more than that,” Jeremy snarled at his brother. “Jason identifies and removes threats before they get too close to the target. It’s his job to protect you with his life. It’s my job to make sure it never comes to that.”

  Bree searched Jeremy’s eyes, looking for anything to tell her this was some sick joke. Deep down, she knew better. Jeremy wouldn’t make up something like this. Jason, maybe. But never Jeremy. “And you two are here to protect me?”

  They both nodded.

  “Because I’m a target?”

  They both nodded again.

  Unbelievable. They couldn’t come up with a better story than that? Bree shook her head as disappointment held her muscles tight. She’d had such high hopes for seeing Jeremy again. Jason, too. And now? They both lied for a living, all to get laid. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

  “The show is over, boys.” She forced her voice steady as she stood. “Time for you to leave.”

  SIX

  Unbelievable. Bree had heard some great stories before, but this one took the blue ribbon for worst attempt in history to get her to sleep with one or both of them. The sooner they left, the better. When neither of them moved, she motioned toward the door. “That’s your cue, guys. Out. Now.”

  “This, right here, is why I didn’t want to come.” Jeremy regarded his brother as he stood and dropped the towel full of melting ice onto the floor. Pieces rolled out of the towel and scattered.

  He kept his eyes hooded, guarded, as he went to the door. No matter how much he tried to hide it, the humiliation and disappointment hardened his expression. He had that same look when he’d asked his crush to the prom while Bree hid in the shadows and tried not to cry. Samantha Patterson. That bitch had laughed in his face, completely destroying him.

  If only he’d asked her. She would have said yes in a heartbeat. But he never asked. He never saw her like that. Or so she thought. Instead of going to her senior prom with the same group she went with every year since none of them ever had dates, she’d kidnapped Jeremy and forced him to eat cookie dough while watching old John Hughes movies the entire night. The underdog always won in those flicks.

  Why couldn’t life be like a John Hughes movie?

  “Jeremy,” she whispered.

  “I�
�m sorry for this, Bree.”

  He broke her heart. Then and now. He didn’t act like her Jeremy anymore. She wanted that one back. “What happened to you? Really?” When he didn’t answer, she padded to him and took his hand. He closed his eyes.

  “Don’t shut her out.” Jason’s voice shocked her. It was quiet, sincere, full of emotions she had no idea he’d be capable of. He glanced over the back of the couch. “You need to tell her the truth as much as she needs to hear it.”

  Jeremy frowned but said nothing.

  “Should we at least call McKoy and have him talk to her? After everything he’s been through, he may be able to convince her we’re on the level.”

  “No.” He shook his head as his expression grew even harder, more troubled. “He’s been through enough because of me.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Jason barked. “Not you, too. Does everyone blame themselves for what happened to him?”

  “Drop it.”

  “Blow me.” He pulled out his phone and dialed. After several seconds, he brought the phone down and stared at the screen. “No answer. Let me try another McKoy.”

  “Goddamn it, Jason.” Jeremy charged, narrowly missing his brother when he reached for him. Bree retreated in the nick of time. “Let’s just go.”

  “Too late.” He grinned and then spoke into the phone. “Hey. How soon can you be at your sister’s?” His grin widened as he wiggled his eyebrows at his twin. “You’re there now? Perfect. Can you put your brother on?”

  Jeremy set his jaw and glared while growling. Literally growling. Unable to stop herself, she moved next to him and slipped her hand into his. He glanced at her. When she offered him a smile, he returned his attention to Jason. At least the growling stopped.

  No way. She would not let him treat her like a stranger. They’d been through too much. Granted, it was ten years ago, but they’d been best friends. A bond like that didn’t disappear, no matter how many years separated them. She squeezed his hand. Hard.

  “Ow.” He jerked his hand from hers and rubbed his knuckles as he shot her a look.

  She spiked an eyebrow in response. “Continue to blow me off and next time I take out your knee. You know I have it in me.”

  “So does Todd Simon.”

  Seventh grade PE. Todd had made the mistake of commenting on Bree’s boobs as he played catcher during a softball game. When she accidentally swung too hard, the bat hit his left knee just right and dropped him. She may not have been great at sports, but she could calculate the precise angle to swing and deliver the most pain without any permanent damage.

  “Snyder?” Jason’s voice drew her attention. “I was actually calling for Chris. No, sir. I have no problem talking to you. This is Agent Bowman. No, the other one. Yes, that one.” He blew out a breath and moved to the window, standing off to the side while separating the blinds just enough to peek through them. “I already tried Chris. He didn’t answer. He was at your house when he delivered the assignment, so I took a gamble. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is, would you? No sir, I don’t expect you to be his babysitter.”

  Enough of this. Bree took the phone from him. Between Jeremy playing the troubled man from her past and Jason pretending to talk to someone from whatever this TREX was they claimed to work for, she’d had it. Bringing the phone to her ear, she snapped. “I’m not buying into this bullshit, so you can drop your act.”

  “Uh, okay.” He cleared his throat and growled, “And you are?”

  “Breanne Harrington. I’m here with Jeremy and Jason Bowman. Did they put you up to this?”

  “I see they found you.”

  Ha! He was in on it. “Answer my question.”

  “They didn’t put me up to anything or vice versa, Mrs. Harrington. They’re supposed to be on leave, though I’m not shocked they couldn’t even do that without getting themselves into trouble. Those two have a knack for that. My name is David Snyder. I’m the Special Agent in Charge of TREX Team One. Spec ops.”

  “Special operations? Fancy. Make that one up yourself?”

  “Excuse me?” His tone sliced into the line.

  She refused to back down. This was probably one of their buddies they paid off with beer and pizza to pretend to be their boss. “What is TREX exactly?”

  “Tactical Retrieval Experts.”

  Exactly what Jason had said. They must work from a script. “And what do you retrieve?”

  “Whatever’s lost.”

  “I’m not lost.”

  “I never said you were. Why do people automatically assume they’re the center of the universe?”

  What an arrogant prick. Bree immediately didn’t like him. “Look, sack.”

  “It’s SAC, as in S-A-C, but you can call me David as long as you don’t call me sack again.”

  “No, I don’t think I will.” She bristled and drew in a breath to settle her nerves. “I don’t know what little game you think you all are playing, but it stops now.”

  “You think this is a game?” David snapped, his voice edgier, more direct. “You think we’d send anyone into a find as part of a game? Do you have any idea what can happen to an agent thrust into the field as part of a game?”

  Wow. This guy had serious issues with her accusation. She’d learned long ago how to read people. As one of the easily forgotten kids in high school, she’d had all the time in the world to do nothing more than observe. Body language. Tone of voice. Even the way a person paused between words.

  That power of observation definitely came in handy now. Something had happened to him or someone close to him. As much as she wanted to know the details, she had more pressing matters to deal with—like a pair of brooding and sexy brothers following her every move. It was unnerving, the way they kept her in their sights like hunters tracking their prey.

  Without warning, Jason shifted to the other side of the window and peered out. When he stiffened, Jeremy rose and joined him. No words. No motions. Not even eye contact. They worked in fluid movement, each anticipating the other’s action and acting on it. Bree gasped when Jason pulled out a gun hidden under the blazer. To her shock, Jeremy lifted his shirt and withdrew a gun tucked into the back of his waistband.

  “Mrs. Harrington?” David’s voice drew her attention back to the call. “Is everything all right?”

  “Oh, God.”

  “Mrs. Harrington?” he asked with more force. “Breanne?”

  Jeremy rushed to her side as he tucked the gun away. He took the phone and brought it to his ear while ushering her away from the windows in one swoop. “Snyder? Late model sedan. Black. North parking lot. Single driver. Backed into the spot and hasn’t stepped out. Too far to make out the plates, but they’re Washington State.”

  Bree’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach before hitting the roof of her mouth. She couldn’t move if her soul depended on it. The fear had her paralyzed. Any minute, men in black tactical fatigues would bust down her door and charge in, guns drawn and centered. Jeremy would place her behind him, taking the bullets meant for her. Jason would get off a few shots before he, too, fell. Then the men would take her and demand a steep ransom. And Whitney would pay it in her desperation to get Bree back.

  She had way too vivid an imagination. Digging her fingers into Jeremy’s arm, she hung on for dear life. He reached around and held her to his back. She leaned into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

  “He’s stepping out,” Jason announced in a cool, even voice. She held her breath and tightened her grip on Jeremy. “Looks to be between six-two to six-four, pushing three-hundred pounds. This guy is—”

  “Lou?” Bree pushed out of Jeremy’s hold. When she took a step toward the window, he hooked her around the waist. She struggled against his grip. “Let me go. That’s Lou.”

  “Who’s Lou?” they asked in unison.

  “My driver. Whitney must have sent him. Damn it, Jeremy. Let me go.” She shoved hard, breaking free, and dashed to the window. When Jason tried to block her, she pinned
him with a burning glare. He put his hands up and stepped back. One glance convinced her. That was definitely Lou.

  “You have a driver?” Jason asked and replaced the gun beneath the blazer.

  “You don’t?” She gave him a look.

  “Stand down. Do not engage. I repeat, do not engage.” Jeremy’s voice drew her attention. His fingers fisted his hair as he walked back and forth, holding the phone to his ear. “No, sir. Not a hitter. It’s her driver, Lou.” He moved the phone away and stilled as he regarded Bree. “Does Lou have a last name?”

  “Galliano.”

  He repeated the name into the phone and went back to pacing. After only a few seconds, he spoke again. “Based on Jason’s description, that sounds like him. Yes, that’s a very good thing. We’ll stay here for the night.”

  Her heart flipped. She glanced at the bed and then at Jeremy, who watched her carefully. When his gaze slid down her body, leaving a searing hot trail that tingled clear to her toes, she shuddered.

  They couldn’t stay here. She didn’t trust them. She didn’t trust herself with them. Her body’s reaction was proof of that. As soon as he ended the call, she started in with all the reasons they needed to leave. “It’s getting late. I have an early drive tomorrow. You two should get back to the reunion. I’m sure the cheer squad is missing you, Jason.”

  “Don’t hate,” he quipped and pushed away from the window. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  “You’re not staying here.”

  “You’re not staying alone,” Jeremy countered. He didn’t raise his voice, but his point came through loud and clear. He held her captive with nothing more than a heated look. If she didn’t do something and fast, she’d give in to that look. She’d wanted him ten years ago. That hadn’t changed. She doubted it ever would.

  “I’ll ask Lou to come up.”

  He made his way over to her, all six-foot three-inches of pure male, hard muscles, a carnal gleam in his darkening gaze. She had nowhere to hide. No way to escape as he closed in. Did she want to run? Her brain screamed yes, but her heart, as well as the rest of her body, had other ideas. Her pulse quickened in anticipation of whatever he was about to do.