by Cat Johnson
Bad thought, that. He pushed it aside.
Rick glanced up. “Take my pack. It fits a lot but it’s easier to stash in tight spots than that big hard-sided suitcase on wheels of yours.”
She frowned. “I like my suitcase.”
“Because it’s huge and lets you over pack until it’s like sixty pounds and you get that big Heavy sticker on it at the airport for being overweight.”
“So what? I don’t make you carry it.”
Chris intervened in the spat. “I’ll carry it, but space is an issue so if you use Rick’s pack, it would help out a lot.”
“Okay. It’s not pretty like mine but . . .”
His lips twitched with a barely controlled smile. “I know it’s not, but I do appreciate you making an exception this once.”
“No problem.” She spun to leave.
Rick glanced up from his bacon as Darci headed for the back door. “Where are you going? Lunch is almost ready.”
Hand on the doorknob, she paused. “I’ll be right back. I’m just going to find your bag and make sure it doesn’t smell or anything.”
Scowling, Rick called after her, “How do you even know where it is?”
“The same way I know where everything always is.” The door to the garage slammed behind her, cutting off further discussion.
Chris chewed on his lip to avoid laughing at Rick’s unhappy expression. Something fell with a loud crash out in the garage. He glanced at Rick. “Should I go help her?”
“Nope. Let Miss Smarty Pants ask for help if she needs it.”
Against his better judgment, Chris nodded. “A’ight.”
Rick tore off some paper towels and put them on a plate. He began transferring the cooked strips of bacon onto the plate while shaking his head. “I’m telling you, Chris. God help you this weekend. I don’t know how you’re gonna handle being stuck with Darci for four days straight.”
“I think I’ll be fine.”
He heard a loud, unladylike cuss from the garage, followed by another crash. “I’m going to go check on what’s going on out there.”
Rick cocked a brow. “Sure. Go ahead, you wuss.”
“No, I’m a gentleman. And it won’t hurt to keep your sister in a good mood since I do have to spend four days with her.” Grinning, Chris was just about to head for the garage when the door whipped open and Darci barreled in, looking flustered and absolutely adorable as she continued to cuss beneath her breath.
Since Rick seemed intent on ignoring her completely as he focused overly hard on putting the frying pan in the sink, Chris decided he needed to say something. “Everything okay?”
“Fine, except that only an idiot would store tennis rackets and golf shoes on top of his pack all the way up on the top shelf where I can’t see them.” Darci shot Rick a look before taking the big canvas bag to her room.
Shaking his head, Rick glanced at Chris, obviously looking for commiseration, when all Chris could do was try and control his smile at how cute she looked when she was mad.
“I’m telling you, dude. You don’t know how lucky you are to have a brother. You should thank God every day of your life that she isn’t your sister.” Rick hooked a thumb in the direction Darci had gone.
Given his feelings for Darci, Chris had to agree.
She appeared again, pink cheeked and still full of piss and vinegar as she shot her brother a look. All it did was make Chris want to kiss her more than usual.
Damn. He needed to get his head on straight before Thursday morning. He was going to eat this burger, go home and not see her again until they were ready to board that plane. Maybe by then he’d kick this thing.
She slid her cute ass onto the stool and he’d be damned if he didn’t watch.
Then again, maybe not. Chris yanked his gaze away. Crap.
CHAPTER 9
They were nearly to the airport Thursday morning when Chris could no longer ignore the steady drumming coming from his passenger seat.
“Darci, it’s gonna be fine.”
“I know.” Her quick, high-pitched answer didn’t instill confidence in Chris.
“Do you?” He glanced down at her foot, which had been tapping fast against the floorboards for the past half an hour.
She stopped the nervous motion immediately. “Sorry.”
“Not a problem. It’s gonna be so simple and quick, next thing you know we’ll be in the plane on the way home and you’ll be wishing we were back in sunny Florida.”
The burst of air that had her lips flapping didn’t sound like agreement to him.
He reached out and put a hand on the back of her neck, squeezing gently. “But, seriously. We fly in. We drink some champagne. Throw some rice. Throw some bullshit. Fly out. Done.”
“Okay.” Touching her wasn’t helping him any, but it seemed to relax her. Or at least gave her something else to concentrate on besides her apprehension. At least her body wasn’t vibrating with nerves anymore.
He pulled his hand back before he started to think deeper about her body, or how he was sure he could make it vibrate with more than anxiety.
She turned to glance across the cab of the truck at him. “Tell me how it’s going to go again?”
Reviewing it might calm her. It sure as hell would help him. He was used to having every mission planned and practiced until it was rote. Until his body could go through the motions without thought.
“When we get to the resort, our room will be waiting for us.” He moved quickly past that part because thoughts of their shared room never failed to get to him. “I’ll leave you to unpack and get settled while I go meet with the client to run over the schedule for the weekend in detail.”
“Okay. Who is this client again?”
“Howard Collins. He used to be the representative from the 12th congressional district in Florida.”
“That explains why the wedding is in Florida and why Zane knew him from Washington, D.C., but I still don’t understand why he needs us. I mean why hire GAPS? Doesn’t he have secret service protection or some sort of security from being a politician?”
Happy she was talking and looking less nervous, Chris was more than willing to explain things. He didn’t know everything, but he knew some. Enough to answer Darci, at least.
“Congressmen and representatives generally don’t get secret service details, except in special situations. Besides that, in what was a shocking turn of events for him, I’m sure, Collins lost the last election. He finished out his term, but he isn’t in congress anymore. And don’t forget, this is his daughter’s wedding. It’s her second marriage from what I understand so it’s going to be a very small affair. Jon said Collins’s wife, Laura, and their daughter, Margaret, don’t want the distraction of security and don’t think they need it.”
“Mr. Collins, however, does think he needs it.”
“Yup, lucky for us.” Chris grinned and flipped on the directional signal for the turn into the airport. “We’re here.”
He swung the truck into a parking space in the lot of the Hampton Roads Airport, where he kept his plane. His one indulgence. He didn’t play golf, or spend big bucks on sports cars the way some of the single guys he knew did, but he did splurge on this. His baby.
The two-seater, single engine aircraft was his pride and joy. He’d spent hours getting and maintaining his pilot certification just for the freedom of soaring through the skies—and not while in a military aircraft on the way to a training or an op.
“Ready?” He glanced at Darci and watched her eyes widen as she saw the small planes and helos on the flight line.
The best thing to do was to get her moving. Once she was immersed in the action, she’d be fine.
Sometimes the anticipation was far worse than the reality. And if she weren’t all right once they got to Florida? Then he’d deal with that too. He was experienced and cool enough for both of them—as long as he kept his mind off how sexy she looked while biting on her lower lip when she was nervous.
Yup. Good thing this assignment was going to be a piece of cake because the distraction that was Darci was one hell of a test of his powers of concentration.
~ * ~
White-knuckled didn’t even begin to describe Darci. By the time they were finally on the ground in Florida and he could get a good look at her, he realized she was deathly white everywhere.
But Chris had to handle his business first. After landing at Summerland Key Cove, a private airport between Marathon and Key West, he pulled onto the apron where he’d prearranged parking for their stay.
He got Darci out and stood her, shakily, off to the side while he tied down the plane and then grabbed the luggage.
By the time he was done, he found she was still as pale as a corpse with the slightest hue of sickly green undertones. What wasn’t at all corpse-like was how badly she was shaking.
He’d thought he could do GAPS a favor by using his own plane and having them just cover the cost of fuel, while at the same time logging some hours in the air, but judging by the look of her, he probably should have asked Jon to fly Darci down commercial.
It had been a beautiful flight, in his opinion. The day was sunny and the scenery breathtaking as they flew in low over the Everglades. But having her with him as he navigated the landing at this tiny airport was probably too much for her to handle. The runway was only twenty feet wide and the water was visible all around them. He could imagine that was nerve wracking for her.
Chris set the bags down on the ground and put a hand on her shoulder. “You okay.”
“Yup.” She pursed her lips together tightly after delivering that clipped response.
He noticed her swallow hard. “Do you need to throw up?”
Thank goodness she hadn’t puked in the plane, but now, on the ground, he was fine if she tossed her cookies.
Darci hesitated long enough he was about to reach out and hold her hair so she could vomit. She finally shook her head. “I think I’ll be okay.”
She didn’t sound okay but he took her at her word.
“Is it always so rough?” she asked, finally raising her gaze to meet his.
Rough?
He’d thought it had been a pretty smooth ride, actually. He didn’t take it personally or as a judgment on his piloting skills. For someone used to huge commercial jets, flying in a small aircraft probably seemed like the equivalent of being inside a remote-controlled toy plane doing loopty loops.
“It just takes some getting used to.” When she didn’t look convinced, he decided it was best to move on. “I’ll carry the bags. You okay to walk on your own?”
She reached for the pack on the ground. “I can—”
“I got ’em.” Chris cut her off, grabbing the strap before she got to it. With as slowly as she was moving, that wasn’t hard.
“But mine is heavy. And Rick’s pack has no wheels.”
He snorted at that as he hefted her pack onto one shoulder and his own two bags—one for weapons, the other for clothes—over his other shoulder.
There were no wheels on the pounds of shit he’d carried on his back for the twenty years he was active duty. And half the time he was wearing pounds of body armor and running while carrying a full pack.
“I got it.” He tipped his head toward the gate. “Go. We should have a car and driver waiting for us.”
“Really?” That information had her eyes brightening and the color returning to her face.
“Yup. It’s from the high falutin’ resort this wedding is being held at.”
“Hm.” She turned and strode away in the direction he’d indicated, forcing him to have to rush to catch up with her.
Apparently, he should have dangled the resort amenities in front of her before the flight and given her something else to concentrate on.
Lesson learned.
Inside the building, Chris took care of the paperwork quickly while Darci finished recovering her composure. She looked back to normal, though a nervous normal, by the time he was done.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“More than ready.”
A car sporting the logo of the Little Palm Island Resort was parked in front of the building. When they emerged, the door swung open and the driver stepped out.
The young, dark-haired man dressed in a light colored resort uniform waited for them to approach before asking, “Mr. Cassidy?”
“Yes, sir.” Chris didn’t miss the questioning glance Darci sent him. He’d have to ask her what her problem was later.
“Let me take your bags.” The kid reached out, but Chris shook his head.
“I got them. Just pop the trunk.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chris followed the driver to the trunk of the car and put Darci’s and his packs inside. The weapons bag he kept. That was going to ride in the back with him. He was wearing his Kimber pistol in his leg holster, but he wasn’t about to let the other firepower he’d brought out of his sight.
The driver didn’t question it. He opened the back door of the car and glanced at Darci. “Ma’am.”
She slid inside, all the way across the back seat to leave room for Chris.
“Is it far?” she asked when Chris slid inside next to her.
“Three and a half miles.” He saw the look she gave him. “What?”
“How do you know that?”
He knew because he didn’t go into an op unprepared. Ever. And the lack of precise planning on this assignment had nearly killed him. He’d done as much research as he could at home about the resort, the area, and the man he’d be working with.
“I did my homework.” Answering her question reminded Chris of Darci’s prior strange behavior. As the driver slammed the door closed, he asked, “Why did you give me that look before when the driver asked my name?”
“I thought we’d have fake names.”
He smiled. “Did you want a fake name?”
“Yeah, kind of.” She lifted shoulder.
He shook his head at her. “Remember what I said, stick as close to the truth as possible. It makes things much easier.”
“But it’s not nearly as fun.” She pouted, making him have to drag his gaze off those lips he’d like to kiss the pout right off.
“I looked up the resort online. There will be plenty of fun for you to have. Believe me.” Maybe enough he might be able to forget about the fun he wouldn’t be having with Darci in their room.
“Okay.” She continued to look unhappy about her lack of an alias.
Not unhappy enough he gave in and let her choose one though. The last thing Chris needed was for her to forget her fake name and raise suspicion that they weren’t who they said they were.
The client would definitely not be happy if his wife and daughter found out he’d brought in security against their wishes. And if the client wasn’t happy, Jon and Zane wouldn’t be happy either.
Darci would live without an intriguing alias. Just having to pretend she was his girlfriend was more than enough intrigue for him.
They’d barely gotten settled in the dim cool interior of the car when they were pulling into the resort. He kept his eyes on the grounds out the window, noting there seemed to be a manned guardhouse at the entrance, though the gates remained open.
Chances were this weekend would be uneventful and he’d be getting paid to do not much more than keep his eyes open.
Given his partner in this assignment, that would be a good thing.
Darci leaned over him to get a look at the passing amenities out his window. “This place is gorgeous.”
“It should be for what it cost.” He’d seen the nightly rate online. Good thing the client was footing this bill.
Still, Chris couldn’t argue her point. The breathtaking view of the water. The beachfront restaurant. The outdoor pool. Even he had to admit, though he’d never want to pay the price to stay here, it wasn’t bad.
In fact, it was by far the best location he’d ever been assigned to. He’d traveled the world during his milita
ry career. He’d been dazzled by the snow in the mountains of Afghanistan, and the color of the seas in the Mediterranean, but this place was just as Darci described—gorgeous.
The absence of sandstorms and incoming RPGs didn’t hurt his appreciation any either.
By the time the car stopped and the driver had opened the door, Darci was nearly bouncing in the backseat to get out. At least she’d forgotten the flight. Hopefully, she wouldn’t remember until Sunday that they still had to make the return trip.
Another man in a resort uniform was there to meet them as Chris slipped on his sunglasses and stepped out of the car and into the sunlight. “Welcome, Mr. Cassidy. Ms. Mann. I hope you had a pleasant flight.”
Chris controlled the twitch of his lips as Darci shot him a sideways glance. He wasn’t sure whether it was over the fact the employee had reminded her of the flight down or that she didn’t have a fake name. Either way, she was adorable.
He responded for them both. “Yes. Thank you.”
The driver had already moved to the back of the car and their two bags were being loaded onto a luggage cart by a third employee. When the young boy, barely old enough to need to shave, reached for the bag on Chris’s shoulder, he shook his head. “No, thanks. I got this one.”
No one argued with his request. He couldn’t be sure if he was the first guest to want to carry their own bag, but he was fairly certain he was the first one whose bag was filled with weapons, ammo and communication devices. Just one other reason why he hadn’t even considered flying commercial.
They followed the luggage cart all the way to their room door, not that he could call it a room when it was more like the microcosm of an island paradise, put into a single space.
He took in the private, landscaped patio just one step outside the wall of glass windows and doors. He also didn’t miss the lone bed. It was huge but yes, there was only one. The bed filled half the space, while a sitting area with a sofa, two chairs and a table filled the other.
Hopefully that sofa opened up into a bed. He yanked his attention from that thought and wandered to the bathroom. It was bigger than his living room back home.
