by Tess Summers
“You’re up for it, you’re still young,” he said with a wink. “Your life will never be boring, Tinkerbell. I can guarantee that.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. I like boring.”
Shit, he hadn’t thought about that—although he probably should have. He knew she liked low-key.
“Okay. Fair enough. You know how some people schedule vacations? Well, we’ll schedule our boring times.”
“You really do have an answer for everything.”
Jacob reached over with his fork and cut a piece of the pie she’d been admiring, and popped it in his mouth with a grin.
“Most of the time. It’s why—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” she interrupted as she moved the pie closer to her and out of his reach. “It’s why they pay you the big bucks.”
She was obviously not impressed.
Chapter Sixteen
Taren
Jake was moving at light speed, and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
Part of her understood it—maybe even appreciated it; he was trying to make up for lost time, show her he was committed. But part of her was still trying to fathom how she’d ended up here.
Three days ago, she was a fresh divorcee who hadn’t had sex in almost seven months, going on a cruise paid for by a mystery sponsor, and considering a job offer from a hospital in New Orleans. And she hadn’t heard from Jacob Preston Smith in over seven years after he’d shattered her heart into a million pieces.
Ever since the ship had left port, she’d had the most amazing sex in her life with the man she thought she’d never see again—the man she knew she would forever consider the love of her life. Oh, and he was a former spy and richer than sin, and he was the benefactor of her vacation and the reason she’d gotten her current job and the job offer in New Orleans.
Lying in his arms in the middle of the night, she was happy. Happier than she’d been in a really long time. It was when she was alone and thinking that things got muddled. She had a feeling she was going to have a lot of time for that when they arrived in Ensenada in the morning.
She certainly wasn’t expecting him to say at breakfast, “Do you need to go back to the room for your passport? You’ll need it when we disembark.”
“Wait. We’re getting off together?”
His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Of course we are. What did you think?”
“I just assumed I’d get off alone and walk around the shops, maybe take a tour, while you did whatever it is you’re doing today.”
“My business this afternoon is going to take no more than an hour. Maybe while I’m doing that you can take an excursion to La Bufadora, but I was planning on spending the day with you in Ensenada. It’s an interesting city; I’d love to show you around.”
“La Bufadora?”
“The Blowhole. It’s a marine geyser—one of only three in the world. Your sightseeing should take longer than my meeting.”
“Oh. That sounds interesting, I guess.”
It’d be something to do at least while he met Mason at the Guzman estate. She wasn’t going to tell him she knew the details of his business today; she’d already been spanked once for eavesdropping. While technically, this would be for that same offense, Taren wasn’t sure Jake would see punishing her again as double jeopardy, so she was going to feign ignorance about where he was going today, just in case he wouldn’t.
“I do need to go back to my cabin to get my purse and passport, and maybe change into tennis shoes if I’m going to be walking a lot.”
He was dressed in black suit pants, black wingtip dress shoes, and a cornflower blue button down shirt open at the collar with a black suit jacket. She was having a hard time imagining they’d be walking very much with him dressed like that, but she assumed on the trip to La Bufadora, she’d probably have to cover some distance. Probably best not to attempt it in the flip flops she currently had on.
She was actually ready to go before Jacob, and waited patiently for him at her balcony table, reading a Misty Malloy novel on her Kindle while he talked on the phone in his cabin suite. She quickly became engrossed in the story and lost track of time, so when he finally appeared in the doorway, apologizing for taking so long, she had no idea what that really meant.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She reluctantly closed her Kindle cover and stood. I’ll get back to Misty’s dragon shifters soon enough, she soothed her inner book nerd as she gathered her purse. It was tempting to toss the Kindle in her bag, but she knew better—her nose would be back in it with any spare second, and she’d probably miss her tour bus or something.
“Here,” he said, handing her a cell phone. “Put this in your purse, for emergencies. My number is programmed in it.”
Her personal cell had been turned off since before they left San Diego. She didn’t have an international plan, and the cruise literature warned her about possibly being charged astronomical roaming fees if her phone picked up a signal. She was on a budget; she couldn’t afford that.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the phone. It did make her feel better knowing she could reach him if she needed to.
They stepped out the cabin door and interlaced their fingers like old times.
“You look very cute today. That’s a pretty dress.”
She’d chosen a high-waisted teal dress that flared at the skirt above her knee with a pattern of big fuchsia flowers. It could be paired with heels, sandals, or Keds—depending on the look she was going for. Today, she was going for the ‘preppy tourist’ look.
“Thanks,” she said, happy that he noticed.
“It reminds me of the first time I met you.”
“When you said I was sprinkling fairy dust all over Tulane’s pedestrian mall.”
“Today, you can sprinkle it all over Ensenada.” He grinned, and with his hand on her back, directed her down the gangway to the long concrete pier and past the customs gate where they’d have to pass through on their return to the ship.
She took the big sunglasses out of her multi-colored, straw bag and put them on as they stood in the taxi cab line.
A tinted out black luxury sedan slowly rolled up. She wouldn’t have thought much about it until she felt Jake’s body language shift. The back window rolled down and a cute blond man hung out the side with a shit-eating grin.
“Hey, you sexy beast, need a lift?”
Jacob sighed; a scowl on his face as he muttered under his breath, “Goddammit. I should have known.” Leaning down slightly, he quietly said, “Wait here.”
****
Jacob
Sonofabitch, that little asshole found me. His next thought was, Why?
Resting his forearms on the rear window of the car, he growled, “What are you doing here, Mason?”
Mason ignored his question and looked around Jacob at his companion, who was waiting patiently after stepping out of the taxi line.
“That’s Taren, isn’t it? Please tell me that’s her.”
Jacob refused to answer, just stared at the younger man with annoyance.
Undeterred, Mason shouted, “Taren!” and of course, she looked.
“I knew it!” he said victoriously, giving Jacob the same grin he had when he initially rolled the window down.
“What do you want, Mason? I told you I’d meet you at Dante and Bella’s at noon.”
“I just wanted to see if my hunch was right. Turns out, I still got it.” He made a show of looking at Taren again. “She’s adorable. Not at all what I envisioned your type to be, though.”
“Fuck. Off,” Jacob said through gritted teeth, then looked back and smiled at his pretty, blonde future wife.
“You might as well accept my ride and introduce me, otherwise, I’m just going to follow you around all morning and introduce myself.”
Goddamn punk.
Jacob closed his eyes in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose as he took a cleansing breath in.
“If you weren’t already d
ead, I’d kill you,” he grumbled, referring to the agency listing the young agent as deceased. For all the CIA knew, Mason was dead—they’d sent him on a suicide mission and not bothered to retrieve him when shit went sideways. Jacob had been the one to extract him from the Middle East when he learned Mason was still alive. “But keep it up, and I might make it official.”
Mason paid no mind to the older man’s grumblings. He’d changed since leaving the agency and getting married. Relaxed. It suited him.
He’d also gotten a lot more flippant. “Call her over here!” Apparently Jacob didn’t move fast enough for the younger man because he began yelling like he was catcalling her.
“Hey! Taren! Pretty blonde American lady! Come here!”
“Why don’t you draw a little more attention to us, dickhead?”
Jacob turned back and saw Tink watching them, unsure of how to proceed. He gestured with his head for her to come over.
“Does she know?” Mason asked quietly as she started walking toward them.
“For the most part. You don’t need to provide any details.”
She was a few feet away when Jacob gave her a bright smile and held his hand out.
“Here’s my girl.”
She took his hand, and he drew her next to him, his arm going around her waist.
“Taren, this is Mason.”
A slow smile crept across her face, and she held out her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Ugh. Not what Mason’s ego needed to hear.
“He talks about me?” The younger man’s eyebrows rose. “It’s all lies, I assure you.”
“Oh,” she glanced up at Jacob, and he caught the slight turn of her mouth. “Jake said you were like the son he never had.”
“I never said that!” Jacob blustered the same time Mason asked with an excited smile, “He said that? I knew he loved me.”
Letting her meet anyone was such a mistake—especially Mason. Although, there weren’t many others he’d even consider allowing it to happen with. Hardly anyone in their business even knew what he looked like, and of those who did—there were only a select few he trusted enough to know she existed. Mason was one, Bella was another.
The car door came open as the younger man said, “Come on, I’ll show you around town before we go to Dante and Bella’s for lunch.”
Jacob knew it was pointless to argue right now—but she was not going to the Guzman estate.
Chapter Seventeen
Taren
Mason was adorable—he had a dimple in his cheek when he smiled, along with blue eyes that twinkled with mischief.
The ride into town was brief, but he peppered her with as many questions as he could fit in on the way.
“Where did you guys meet?”
“None of your business,” Jacob answered, even though the question was clearly directed at Taren.
“Do you think you’ll do the long distance thing, or are you planning on moving in together? Personally, I would recommend getting married.”
Jacob didn’t respond to his question, just glared at the man—who grinned in return. Taren suspected the cute blond man was purposefully trying to get under Jake’s skin, and it appeared to be working—which surprised her. He was always cool and composed about everything. Well, about everything except her, it seemed.
“We haven’t figured that out yet,” she said to be polite.
“Reagan and I better be invited to the wedding,” Mason said as they piled out of the black car and started walking along the shops and vendors.
“Why? I wasn’t invited to yours,” Jacob shot back, pausing to sidestep and shake his head at a vendor trying to get them to come inside his store.
“I already told you—it was spur of the moment and only our immediate family was there.”
“Do you really think we’re going to have a big wedding, Mason? Think about it.”
Jacob turned to her with a questioning look and reached for her hand. “That’s okay, isn’t it?”
“I thought you said I could have as big a wedding as I wanted?” she teased.
He bit the side of his cheek and frowned. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“So you have talked about getting married! That’s awesome! I’m available to be a groomsman, if you need me,” Mason said with a grin.
Taren’s smile was polite. “I think we will probably elope to somewhere warm if we actually do tie the knot someday. Just the two of us.”
“Aw, you’ll still need a witness! My wife and I would love to be there. By the way, I’m going by Edward O’Connor these days.”
“Ah, yes. Chef O’Connor if my sources are to be believed.”
“You’re keeping tabs on me?” the younger man asked with a smile. “I’m so freaking flattered!”
Jacob rolled his eyes and shook his head, but then, as if in spite of himself, asked, “How’s the baby?”
Mason/Edward’s face lit up like the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center. “She’s perfect and brilliant and beautiful,” he said as he took out his phone and started scrolling before showing them pictures of a beautiful little girl about six months old.
“She looks just like you,” Taren remarked.
“You think so? I think she looks like her mama.”
Jacob studied the picture, then the other man before weighing in.
“She has Reagan’s eyes, but I can definitely tell she’s your daughter.”
The blond studied his daughter’s face on his screen for a moment longer before putting his phone away.
“Second best day of my life—the day she was born.”
She found herself asking, “And the first?”
“The day Reagan married me, of course.”
“Of course,” she said with a teasing tone.
“I can’t wait to introduce you,” Mason/Edward said.
“Not happening,” Jacob said, and he took her hand and began to walk briskly down the sidewalk, away from the younger man.
Edward jogged to catch up.
“Come on. Everyone will want to meet her…”
“Damn it, I said no. It’s not safe,” Jacob interrupted.
“What are you talking about, not safe? The estate is probably the safest place she could be this afternoon. Everyone who’s going to be there owes you a debt of some kind or another. You know that.”
“You, of all people, know that even the estate is vulnerable.”
A scowl formed on Edward’s brow.
“Low blow, man.”
Jake released her hand and tugged on Edward’s elbow, pulling him a few yards away. She could still hear their conversation.
“I don’t want her anywhere near my business. I would think you’d understand that better than anyone.” Jacob snarled.
“I understand better than anyone that that is impossible.”
“Bullshit. I did it for three years.”
“And how’d that work out for ya?”
Oh, Taren definitely liked Edward. Judging by the steam practically coming out of his ears, it was safe to say to say, Jacob, not so much.
She approached the men and sidled up next to Jacob; entwining her hand with his.
“I think it will be okay, baby,” she whispered as she looked up at him.
He stared down at her and his features visibly softened before he leaned over and kissed her forehead.
“You’re going to miss your tour, then,” he said, like the enticement of La Bufadora was enough to keep her from agreeing to go to lunch.
“You can show me the blowhole some other time. But do we have time for me to buy some souvenirs?”
“Plenty of time,” Edward chimed in. He was met with Jacob’s icy glare as they started toward some shops across the street that had looked appealing to Taren.
“My rate just went up,” Jake grumbled as he stepped off the curb.
Even grumpy, he was sexy.
****
Jacob
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Tink sensed it, too, because she made sure to stay close to him in the shops and hold his hand or touch his arm as often as possible.
“I can still go on the tour. I don’t mind,” she’d said quietly when they were away from the CIA agent formerly known as Mason.
He wouldn’t put it past Edward to hunt her down on the Punta Banda Peninsula where the underground geyser was located—about an hour south of Ensenada.
“At this point, baby, I think it’s safer if you stay with me.”
Not that he was worried anyone would hurt her today. The younger man had a point earlier—everyone at today’s meeting owed him a debt of some sort or another. Jacob liked it that way—people owing him; he made sure it was never the other way around. It made doing his job so much easier when people were indebted to him.
What he was concerned with now was the appearance that he was worried about her. That would be leverage should anyone start to feel wily toward him. He knew Edward, Dante, and Bella weren’t a threat, but as for the rest of the players, he wasn’t so sure.
“I’m going to kick your ass,” he snarled at the younger man as they started walking back toward the car. Tinkerbell was up ahead, negotiating with a street vendor over magnets or some other tchotchke shit.
“What? Why?”
“She needs to stay hidden when the others get there. Do you understand me, Edward? No one—and I mean no one, is to know about her.”
“Well, that’s going to be kind of hard since Reagan, Bella, and Dante know that’s why I came into town. To see if she was with you and bring her back.”
“I’d already taken into account that you probably told your family, which is still bullshit, by the way. If you were anyone else, I’d have you killed—just so you know.”
“Well, good thing you love me and think of me as the son you never had,” Edward said with a grin, completely unaffected by the threat on his life. “Let’s go have lunch with my wife and her family before the others arrive. Oh, John knows, too.”
