by Freya Barker
A few minutes in, I see her eyes flutter shut as her breathing deepens, and she finally falls asleep.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting here—maybe an hour or so—just running my hands over her skin and hair while watching her sleep, when a sharp knock at the door snaps my head up. Kerry moves restlessly at the sound but quickly settles back down, allowing me to slip my hands and leg from under her.
My damn leg is numb from being folded under for so long, and I nearly do a face-plant in the little front hall. Jasper is outside, holding a box that has my laptop, a stack of files, and my portable scanner. I take the box from him and set it on the hall table, checking to see if he remembered my Rolodex, when he steps around me into the house.
“Hey,” I hiss after him, but he’s already moved into the living room and is standing over a sleeping Kerry by the time I catch up with him.
“Pretty,” he mumbles, and before I can yank him away, Kerry is already blinking her eyes at the intrusion.
“Dammit, Greene. Get your ass out of here,” I bark, no longer concerned about waking her since she’s already scrambling to sit up.
Jasper ignores me and sticks his hand in her face. “I don’t believe we’ve ever had the pleasure. Jasper Greene.” His fucking smile is so bright, Kerry has to blink a few times against the glare before she shakes his hand.
“Kerry Emerson.”
“Greene,” I growl, as I watch Kerry trying to pull back her hand when he doesn’t let go. I aim a hard punch for his shoulder, which has him release his hold on Kerry and grab onto his arm.
“Damn,” he turns his big grin on me. “You still have some power left in that old body of yours, boss.”
Fuck. I know I’m letting him get to me. I open my mouth to let him have it when another voice joins in.
“Suggest you don’t poke the bear or you’ll find out exactly how much power my brother is packing.”
Bella stands in the doorway, all five foot and change of her, with her hands on her hips and her eyes throwing flames at Jasper, who looks—for once—lost for words. She must’ve walked right in the front door we’d left open. Kerry is just sitting on the couch, cross-legged in her threadbare, ugly-ass pajamas, watching the interaction with great interest.
“Now I know I haven’t had this pleasure. Jasper Greene, at your service.” The idiot has his hand out again, this time approaching my sister, who looks at him like something she just scraped off the sole of her shoe. He really has no idea the kind of danger he’s putting himself in right now. My sister can be like a rabid Chihuahua, especially with men. It’s that I’m her brother, or her current hatred for all God’s creatures cursed with a Y-chromosome would have me shredded to strips with her sharp little canines.
I decide to intervene before blood flows. “That’s my baby sister Bella, Greene. Isabella, Jasper is one of my agents.” I emphasize the word baby on purpose, and Jasper reacts as I hoped, by immediately tucking his proffered hand in his pocket. Smart man.
A soft chuckle reaches my ears, and I turn to find Kerry’s smiling eyes on mine. In my peripheral vision, I see Jasper backing away from my sister and cautiously rounding her on his way to the front door.
“Yes, well...I should get back to the office,” he mutters. “Nice to meet you all.”
“You too, Jasper,” Kerry calls out to him, dissolving in a fit of giggles when Bella makes a growling sound by way of response.
The moment he pulls the door shut behind him, Bella turns to Kerry, her face morphed into one of sweet concern. “Nice to see you again, Kerry. How are you feeling?”
“Better. I...”
“Should be sleeping,” I finish for her with a stern look for my sister, who seems less than impressed.
“Don’t put that on me. Take it out on your cocky, self-absorbed pretty boy, who obviously thinks he’s God’s gift to women.” I smile at the description. Jas is all that with his long, lanky frame and California good looks. He looks more like a happy-on-life poster boy for Calvin Klein, with his sun-bleached hair and disarming smile, instead of a highly respected FBI agent with an IQ at genius level topped with some serious ninja skills. He knows how to use his looks to his advantage, but they’ve been more of a hindrance than a benefit in getting where he is today. I’m not about to tell my sister that, though. Let her think he’s a player. I don’t need her getting any ideas.
“I actually do feel a little better. I wouldn’t mind some coffee. Anyone else up for a cup?” Kerry stands up and gingerly moves toward the kitchen.
“I’d love one,” Bella pipes up and makes herself comfortable on the couch, ignoring my glare.
I follow Kerry into the kitchen, where she’s already scooping grinds into a filter. “I can send her home, you know?” I walk up behind her, boxing her in with my hands resting on either side of her on the counter. “She’s just dropping off my gear.”
“Gear?” she asks, continuing to prep the coffeemaker as if she can’t feel the heat radiating off my body only a few inches away from hers.
“Need a shower and some clean clothes. I figured you’d be out for a while, so I had Jasper drop off some work and Bella grabbed my stuff.”
Now she turns in my arms, her shoulder lightly brushing my chest. “You realize that may not have been the smartest idea, don’t you?” She smiles, placing a casual hand on my arm.
“I do,” I admit. “Now.”
Kerry flaps her hand in front of her face. “Those were some serious fireworks,” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically.
“Don’t even go there, Gypsy,” I warn her, bending my head closer to steal a kiss. “I don’t want to know about those fireworks,” I mumble with my lips caressing hers. “Not with a nuclear fusion going on here.”
CHAPTER 13
“Where is it, Mr. Sinclair?”
He’d been expecting the phone call.
“It’s under control. I’ll have it to you before the deadline.”
“I don’t care about the deadline. I care about you kicking up more dust with your ineffective ploys to reclaim the goods. Your idea of control is disturbing, Mr. Sinclair, given that my property is in the trunk of a wreck, currently being towed to the police lab. How do you propose getting it out of there before it is found?”
He jumped on an opportunity last night and fucked it up. When he found out the woman was picking up the box in Cortez, he managed to catch up with her as she was closing in on Durango. He just hadn’t thought it through much further than that and realized the error of his ways when he pulled up behind her. The split-second decision to intercept her caused him to be ill-prepared, with only a gun and no way to avoid her recognition. The recovery was supposed to remain covert, it was the only way his associate could exert any control over the current investigation. His only option was to make it look like an accident. Then, once he removed the box from the wreckage, no one would be any the wiser. When he backed up his truck and prepared to shove her off the edge of the road, he noticed the headlights of a big rig coming up the mountain right behind them. Already in motion, he jerked hard to swerve around her car, but when he had to adjust the wheel to avoid a collision with the truck that had come up faster than he anticipated, his truck nicked her front end.
Nothing to do from there but damage control. In his rearview mirror, he saw the big rig pulling to a stop on the side of the road, and he knew the only option left for now was to get the hell out of there and update his partner.
“Because no one will have a chance to touch the car before we can retrieve it.”
The silence on the other end is thick as his client starts computing the information just handed to him.
“Son of a bitch.” The client bursts out laughing. “You have an inside man.”
CHAPTER 14
Kerry
I didn’t know whether it was relief or frustration I felt when an urgent phone call interrupted the impromptu make-out session in the kitchen. That man’s hand was already down the back of my pajamas, cla
sping my butt cheek, and I wasn’t doing a damn thing to stop him. I don’t get it. These days I’m a pretty determined and goal-focused person, but Damian talks to me or touches me—hell, even if he just breathes in the same room—it seems to render me meek. Dammit.
Worst part is, for the past four hours since he’s been gone, my mind constantly drifts to the way he can make me feel.
“I’d really like to know what’s been going through that mind of yours, but since I have a sneaky suspicion it involves my brother in some way, I think I’ll have to pass.”
When Damian had to run out, Bella offered to stay. We’ve been getting to know each other—moreover, I’ve been learning lots about Damian—and chatting like old friends.
I’ve learned Damian is stuck in the middle of five sisters, something I find weirdly hilarious, given his über manliness. Some of the childhood torture the sisters put him through was pretty hardcore. And that’s just the stuff Bella, being eight years younger than Damian’s forty-four, could remember. Yes, I finagled his age from her, as well. I’d been curious. He is a hard man to date with his timeless, masculine good looks. He’ll age well—damn him.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I lie, but Bella just laughs in my face.
“Right. We’ll just leave it at that and pretend you two weren’t chewing each other’s faces off in the kitchen this morning. But just so you know, I’ve never seen my brother this way.” She shrugs her shoulders. “Not that he was a eunuch all these years, he’s far too passionate for that, but as far as I can recall, he’s never cared enough to jump in the fray for a woman the way he did for you. Hell, he even took me on.”
I don’t quite know what to say to the picture she paints of a caring, protective, and passionate man. It doesn’t exactly jive with the calculated, controlling man I see. Huh. I have to admit, the childhood antics Bella describes show him in a somewhat more personable light.
“Are you hungry?” I change the subject swiftly, a little unsettled with these new discoveries. Bella rolls her eyes, obviously not falling for my attempt at distraction but letting it go anyway.
“I could eat. Do you have any take-out menus here?” I direct her to a drawer in the kitchen, and she fishes out the menu for one of my newfound favorite restaurants, Rice Monkeys. “This looks good. I love Asian food,” she says, already scanning the menu.
“I recommend their squid salad and vermicelli bowls. They’re out of this world. But we have to pick it up, they don’t deliver,” I point out.
“Don’t worry,” Bella says cheerfully, pulling her phone from her purse. “We’ll just call my brother.”
Before I can protest, she’s already on the phone. “When are you gonna be done?” She dives right in without saying hello. “... Because we’re hungry and want to order some food from Rice Monkeys. Kerry says the food is amazing...Yeah, we’ll hold off half an hour before ordering. I’ll survive.” She hangs up and triumphantly drops her phone back in her purse.
“Is he always that accommodating?” I can’t help asking.
“For me he isn’t, but I had a hunch he would be for you.” She winks and her smile is infectious, and I burst out laughing at her shameless manipulations.
“You’re a handful,” I tell her. “But I think I like your style.” Now it’s her turn to laugh heartily.
We manage to kill some time watching an old episode of Seinfeld, and I find myself nodding off a few times. The lack of sleep and the remaining low-grade headache are catching up with me.
“I’ve already put in our order, and Damian’s on his way to pick it up,” I hear Bella say as I peel open my eyelids.
“Thanks,” I manage to say, my mouth feeling like it’s filled with glue. Yuck. “I fell asleep.”
“That was obvious,” she snorts but continues a bit more contrite. “I’m sorry if I kept you up. I talk a lot. I know I’m one of those annoying oversharers.”
I simply wave her off as I try to straighten up. “Not at all.”
“Anyway, I thought you might wanna freshen up a bit before he gets here. You kinda have some slobber gathering at the corner of your mouth.” She very helpfully points to where I can feel drool hardening on my face. Fabulous.
Mortified, and suddenly in a hurry, I push up off the couch and find myself swaying on my feet.
“Whoa, steady does it.”
I notice Bella says almost the same exact thing Damian did only this morning. Fuck me. He’s probably already on his way. With a grateful smile, I carefully step out of her hold and make my way to the bedroom, noticing for the first time I never changed out of my pajamas all day long. I didn’t call the store either, to find out how things went for Marya today. Something else I’ll rectify, just as soon as I put some decent clothes on and wash my face.
A glance at my alarm clock as I come out of the bathroom tells me it’s only five o’clock. Feeling a bit refreshed, I grab my phone, which had been lying on my nightstand all day, and notice a number of missed calls. Ignoring them for now, I first call Marya, who picks up on the second ring.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” she answers the phone. It takes me a second to remember the store has call display.
“Better. A lot better,” I admit. “How were things today?”
“Fine. Not a lot of book traffic, but the coffee sure is taking off.”
“Oh really? Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter what brings them in, as long as they come in.”
“I also took down a few messages. Most of the calls I could handle, but there are a few here you’ll eventually have to do something with.” I can hear her shuffling through message slips.
“Give them to me now. I’ll handle them right away,” I suggest.
“They can wait,” Marya says firmly. “You’re going to take care of you first. Oh, that reminds me; I’ve got the next few days organized for the kids, as well. Since it’s school break, and Mom was planning to take them with her to visit her sister’s place in Silverado anyway, she just took them up there this afternoon. They’re staying until at least after the weekend, so don’t worry about rushing back.”
I’m torn between feeling guilty and feeling relieved. “I owe you big, girlfriend. Thanks so much for doing that, and thank your mom, too, when you talk to her. I’ll make sure to thank both of you properly soon.” I know Marya struggles a bit financially and whatever she has always goes to her kids, but I’m sure I can think of something to spoil her. Her mom is easy; the woman is one of my staunchest customers, and I will make sure she’ll never run out of books to read.
“Don’t even,” Marya says, but then I hear her mumble to someone with her. She must’ve covered the phone with her hand. “Sorry about that,” she apologizes in a voice about an octave higher, and I wonder if it’s her new friend who walked into the store. The same one who had her glowing from top to bottom a few days ago.
“I’m guessing you have a...customer?” I tease her, a smile in my voice. This time I hear a man’s voice in the background. It sounds almost familiar.
“Yes!” Marya finally responds breathlessly. “We’ll talk tomorrow. I’d better go.”
Before I even have a chance to say goodbye, she’s already hung up. A bit puzzled by her sudden hurry to get off the phone, I toss my phone on the bed and make my way to the kitchen, where I can hear voices.
Bella’s and another. One that makes butterflies convulse in my stomach.
DAMIAN
This goddamn day has completely gotten away from me and by the time Bella phones me, I’m ready to call it.
I’m beat. Other than this morning on the couch, I don’t think I’ve blinked, let alone closed my eyes. Just my luck this damn case seems to be gaining some traction now, when I need a good six or eight hours of shut-eye to tide me over. But before I can even contemplate getting out of here, I have to update Luna, who just walked into the office. She’s been helping the Durango PD tie off a few loose ends on a case we closed recently.
“Did he talk?”
“With your buddy Blackfoot in the room? Hell yes, he talked. Took a while though, but as usual Keith was able to convey the importance of coming clean.” She chuckles at the look of distaste on my face. “I know you don’t approve of his methods, boss, but you’ve got to admit, the man’s got a near-perfect track record when it comes to getting confessions.”
I know he does, but I also know he disregards every rule book ever written on the proper protocol of interrogation. Not that there is ever a mark on the suspect—his methods run more along the lines of intimidation. I have to give it to him, though, he only pulls out the big guns when the case is pretty much ironclad.
It’s one of the reasons I started insisting me, or one of my agents, always be present during his interviews on cases we’d been called in to assist. I want this office to be able to testify to the fact that nothing untoward happened.
“Sit down, Roosberg.” I wave her to the chair on the other side of my desk, and she sits without argument. “James Aiken called this morning. Told me the Interpol specialist called him en route to the airport, demanding he ‘call off his dogs.’ That is us, this field office and the PD,” I clarify when Luna looks confused. “Apparently she called the police station this morning to check some information. Ended up talking to Blackfoot, who told her about last night’s accident. She asked him if he thought there could be a connection to the trafficking investigation, and he told her it was a possibility. Still, when she told him to wait for her to fly in, he said he wasn’t gonna wait around on his hit-and-run investigation. He laughed at her and said he was planning on stripping Kerry’s car for evidence, with or without her, and then hung up. Did Blackfoot say anything to you?”
