by Tess Summers
Of course he did.
Exasperated, Jacob left Edward and approached his little sprite, haggling with the man behind the table like it was her job.
“How about three for eight?” she asked.
The man acted like it pained him to be agreeing to such a price, but he accepted it and began wrapping up her purchases in newspaper.
She looked over at Jacob with a victorious smile, like she’d just negotiated a multi-million-dollar merger instead of the sale of three ceramic refrigerator magnets. He couldn’t help but smile back at her.
Looking at her innocent, naïve face, he felt a pang of guilt over what he was about to subject her to. She was going to be introduced into his world, and he hated it. The agency’s rules had been in place for a reason—there was definitely something to be said for compartmentalizing your life and not letting the two mix. He’d sold his soul to the devil, not hers. She was too pure for this shit.
She cocked her head and looked at him, still smiling broadly. “What?”
He forced the smile to return to his face, and he slipped his arm around and kissed her hair.
“Nothing. I just love you is all.”
The weathered man behind the table of souvenirs handed her the black, plastic bag with her purchases inside, and wished them a nice day in English with a heavy Mexican accent.
“You too,” she called cheerfully as they walked away—sprinkling her fucking fairy dust as she went. She was practically skipping.
He tugged her closer and said in a low voice, “At lunch today, I want you to be vague about every aspect of your life; do you understand me? No details—even when they’re super charming and fawning all over you. You give them a made up last name, if they ask.”
“How about Johnson? We probably should have our stories match, in case you’re asked.”
“Well, I’ll straight up tell them it’s none of their fucking business, but I suspect you wouldn’t be so blunt.”
“Can I share that I’m a nurse?”
He thought about it for a minute.
“Okay, but nothing specific, like your specialty or where you work. Not even the city, Tinkerbell. If they press, put it on me and tell them I forbade you from saying anything.”
“This is making me really nervous, now. I don’t want to screw anything up accidentally.”
“You’ll be fine. I’m betting it will be just you and Edward’s wife, Reagan, anyway once the meeting starts. Just ask her about their restaurant and their baby—that should keep her talking for at least an hour. I don’t plan on this taking longer than that.”
The deal Jacob had helped Edward with in Columbia was coming back to bite them all in the ass, but especially the Sinaloa cartel as the Columbian cartel sought revenge for their interference.
A small crew of CIA rebels—including Edward, and assisted by Jacob, had gone in and rescued Edward’s brother, Marcus, who was also a former agent. He’d been taken hostage in Cartagena while trying to break up an international sex slavery ring. Unfortunately, the agency pulled out before they were done, but he’d fallen in love with one of the women being sold, so he wasn’t willing to leave without her. It’d created a whole clusterfuck, involving Edward kidnapping Reagan to lure her sister, Bella out of retirement and bring her Sinaloa mafia husband’s resources with her—falling in love with his captive in the process before getting shot.
Apparently, the remaining Columbians had somehow pieced together the Mexican cartel was involved, so even though Edward was technically dead and out of the business, he’d felt compelled to help his brother-in-law, whom he’d dragged into the operation. And they needed Jacob’s assistance and connections. In terms of missions and Jacob’s involvement—this was minor compared to past jobs.
He needed to calm Taren’s concerns about saying the wrong thing—she was his number one priority. Changing the subject to her shopping seemed like a good way to do that.
“So, who are the magnets for?”
“Me. I always need magnets.”
He remembered. Her fridge had been her bulletin board—anything she wanted to have a reminder or a safe place for was stuck on her refrigerator: coupons, upcoming concert tickets, appointment reminders…. All secured with magnets outside her Frigidaire.
The memory made him smile. He was glad she hadn’t changed.
“What?” she said with an accusing tone when she noticed his smile.
He shook his head. “Nothing, baby. Absolutely nothing. My refrigerator is extra-large so you’ll have all kinds of room for your magnets. We should probably buy more.”
She slowed her gait. “I haven’t agreed to move in with you. I still don’t know if I’m taking the job in New Orleans yet.”
He didn’t want her taking the job—any job, but he did want her moving in with him. One obstacle at a time.
With his hand on her back, he urged her forward. “We’ve got a week to worry about that. And five more ports of call to get more magnets.”
The idea of more shopping brought a smile to her face. He loved that something as simple as ceramic refrigerator tchotchkes made her happy. God, he hoped their kids got her temperament. The two of them were in for a rough eighteen plus years otherwise if they got his.
When he stopped and thought about it, he really had no idea what she saw in him. She obviously didn’t love him for his money or power, he was broody as fuck, and distrusted—and disliked—pretty much everyone on the planet. Well, everyone except Taren and his parents, and he’d probably include his brother Jack, along with Edward and Reagan, and Bella and Dante in that equation, as well. Anyone else… no, not really. Meanwhile, Taren tried to see the good in everyone.
Unfortunately, there was little good in the people he associated with. It wasn’t like they called him when they were at their best—just the opposite. He only entered the picture when their situation had gone completely sideways, and they’d be fucked without him. Which is why he was able to charge an exorbitant rate, and why they were willing to pay it. He was the best mercenary fixer money could buy.
Not that he didn’t earn his money. He’d earned every red cent he made, and then some. But now… now he was thinking maybe he’d take his money at forty and slow down. Be a husband and a dad. Probably not retire completely, but definitely ease back, and his rates were going up substantially to help quell the demand for his services. Maybe he’d even take on a partner someday.
The thought actually felt liberating, so he knew it was the right decision. When she entwined her fingers with his and grinned up at him as they approached a man pushing a silver cart marked, Helado, he’d never been more sure. There was his future; standing next to him, holding his hand and waiting for an ice cream cone.
“I love you, Tink,” he said as he squeezed her fingers with his.
She didn’t say it back, just squeezed his fingers in return with a smile. He wasn’t worried—he knew she loved him, deep down; she just needed a little time to come to terms with it. Jacob had kind of overwhelmed her the last three days. He was a patient man.
And she was worth the wait.
Chapter Eighteen
Taren
She’d had so much fun exploring the little shops and haggling with the vendors. She loved that Jacob was with her, always keeping a watchful eye on her but letting her do her thing. She felt safe while at the same time free. She’d never felt that way with David. He was always shaking his head in disapproval if she said the wrong thing or acted the wrong way. That was why she was a little worried about meeting Edward’s wife and in-laws. She’d been known to make a social blunder or two.
“Should we get one for Edward and our driver?” she asked as they looked at the menu of frozen treats.
“Yes, to the driver. Fuck no about Edward. He can get his own.”
She pursed her lips and shot him a disapproving look before ordering three vanilla cones.
“What do you want?” she asked, looking at Jacob.
“I haven’t had an ice
cream cone in seven years, Tink, I have no idea.”
“Make that four,” she said to the vendor, holding up four fingers.
She paid the man and handed Jake two of the cones the vendor offered, then took the other two.
Edward walked up to them and Jacob shoved the cone at him.
“Here,” he snarled.
“Aw, thanks.”
“Don’t thank me, I said not to get you one.”
Edward threw his arm around Taren’s shoulder and took a bite of the ice cream.
“Thanks, that was really thoughtful.”
“My pleasure,” she said with a smile.
Edward kept his arm around her, and as they approached the car, she heard Jacob growl, “You can remove your arm now.”
Taren felt Edward chuckle as he took his arm off her. She gave the surprised driver his ice cream, then stood outside the car, even though it was obvious Jacob and Edward were waiting for her to get in before they did.
“Finish your cones first, and let him”—she gestured to the driver—“finish his before he has to start driving.”
Jacob put his arm around her and pulled her close to him, while Edward teased, “She’s way too good for you, man.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“But he’s amazing in bed,” she said with a straight face as she took a bite of the cone.
The two men seemed stunned she’d said that, then started laughing.
“I like you even more now,” Edward said before ducking into the backseat, out of Jacob’s reach.
“That was funny,” Jake said.
She shrugged and popped the last bit of cone into her mouth. “It’s true. You are amazing.”
He leaned down and murmured in her ear, “So are you,” then smacked her ass as she got into the car.
****
Jacob
They pulled through the guard gates at Bella and Dante’s estate, and on instinct, Jacob felt for the gun Edward had slipped him, just like Jacob had requested before agreeing to be in attendance today. Sometimes he really hated jackets—especially in the summer heat, but it was a casualty of packing a weapon. It was either that or tuck it in his waistband and leave his shirt untucked, which he wasn’t going to do for a business meeting.
Jacob wasn’t sure why he was so on edge. He’d been to the Guzmans’ several times, worked with Mrs. Guzman when she was known as Kennedy Jones in the agency, and knew her husband vouched for all the men coming today. He deduced his uneasiness was due to Taren being there.
The second they walked through the door, Edward’s wife, Reagan—who was also Bella’s sister, embraced him in a hug.
“It’s so good to see you again.”
“Babe, this is Jacob’s girlfriend, Taren,” Edward offered gleefully.
Reagan threw her arms around Taren like she was a long lost sister.
“I’m so happy to meet you! We love Jacob so much; we’ll be forever indebted to him for all his help in…”
“Reagan,” Jacob interrupted sternly. She looked over at him, and he cocked an eyebrow at her in warning.
“Oh, sorry,” she said rolling her eyes. “I always forget the first rule of Fight Club.”
“Ha. Ha. Where’s this beautiful baby girl of yours? What did you name her?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Brianna Kennedy—and she just went down for a nap. But I expect Madi will be venturing in with the nanny at any minute.”
He hadn’t seen Bella and Dante’s daughter since she was probably just a few months old; the little girl had to be two or three by now.
“Speak of the devil,” Edward said as his niece came running through the French doors leading to the pool and the immaculate grounds surrounding it.
Mr. and Mrs. Guzman appeared from the hallway across the room, and Dante scooped up his daughter as she streaked by him just as a young woman in her late twenties, with her hair falling out of her ponytail, rushed through the doorway looking frantic. Jacob noticed her knee was bleeding.
“We’ve got her, Carmen. Go have lunch,” the Mexican man said to the younger woman.
“I’m sorry. She’s just so quick, and I tripped chasing after her.”
“Oh, no!” Bella quickly responded. “Are you okay?”
“It’s just a scrape,” Carmen replied. “I’ll go get it cleaned up.”
“We’ve got my sister here to help, why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” Bella suggested and was met with a look of panic until she added, “It will be paid, of course, since we scheduled you for the entire day.”
“Okay, if you’re sure you don’t need me,” the young woman reluctantly agreed, her eyes darting between Dante holding his daughter and Bella standing next to him. She didn’t turn to leave until Dante nodded his head and said, “We’re sure.”
They were a beautiful family; Bella with her stunning red hair and porcelain skin, Dante a classic and distinguished Mexican Mafioso, and their daughter a hybrid of the two, having her mother’s green eyes and button nose, but her father’s coloring and high cheekbones.
Bella turned toward the visitors and warmly greeted them.
“Jacob, so nice to see you.”
He wasn’t sure how he was going to be received, since Bella had at one point told him if she ever saw him again, she’d kill him.
“You look well, Bella. I like the hair.”
When she first left the agency, she had been dying it brown when she had been trying to stay hidden while everyone thought she was dead. Well everyone but Edward and another agent.
“Dante’s contacts have assured him the CIA has me listed as deceased, so I’ve been feeling a little braver.”
“That’s the word on the street, too,” Jacob offered in reassurance. “I’ve not heard otherwise; for either you or Edward. I’ll let you know if that changes.”
“We appreciate that, Jacob,” Dante said, while his daughter Madison, stared at Jacob intently.
Bella also noticed her daughter’s fascination with him and said, “Madi, can you say hello to Mr. Jacob?”
“Hello, Mr. Jacob,” a tiny voice echoed, as her father set her on her feet.
“Hi, Madi. This is my friend, Taren,” he said, putting his hand on Tinkerbell’s arm.
The little girl was not impressed with Jacob’s girlfriend and didn’t offer a greeting until her mother prompted her to, then she obliged in the same sweet voice, “Hi, Taren.”
She hadn’t stopped staring at Jacob, so he bent down on one knee, and she immediately came to him. Her parents exchanged bewildered looks, as Dante murmured, “She doesn’t go to anyone but me and Bella. Not even her nanny.”
“Jacob, do you want to see my new dollhouse?” Madison asked, slipping her little toddler hand into his great big one.
He glanced up at the adults with their varying looks of astonishment and couldn’t help but grin at them.
“Sure. Can Taren come too?”
“No, thank you, that’s okay,” Madison replied politely, making everyone except her mother giggle.
“Madison,” Bella said in warning. “Miss Taren can see your dollhouse, too.”
“Well, I want to see this dollhouse,” Edward said.
“Me, too,” Reagan chimed in.
“Go show them your dollhouse, baby,” Dante encouraged.
With her hand still in Jacob’s, she led the way to her bedroom, ignoring everyone but Jacob once they got out of earshot of her parents. As godmother, Reagan took on the responsibility of making sure the little girl answered when anyone but Jacob asked her questions.
“Wow, your bedroom is like a princess’s,” Taren said, as she looked up at the high ceilings and bright natural light when they walked in the pink room that was bigger than his first house.
“Are you a princess?” he asked Madison.
“Mmm hmm,” she confidently agreed like only a three-year-old could. He couldn’t help but smile at her self-assurance. He hoped his daughters would have moxie like hers. “Here’s my dol
lhouse, Jacob.”
He responded with the appropriate awe and wonder. He wasn’t that familiar with dollhouses, having only one younger brother, but this one seemed to put any that he’d seen to shame. Definitely cartel princess worthy. Although, to be fair, Dante was trying to go legit with his pot dispensaries throughout the United States, and seemed to be making a nice profit with his new venture.
“Let’s play, Jacob.” Madison said, handing him a male doll then began fishing through a box full of dolls until she pulled out a dark haired one. “You be the papa, and I’ll be the mama.”
He looked over at the other three grownups, all grinning from their seats at a miniature table and chairs that was set up for a tea party. Taren shot him a wink while Edward raised his plastic tea cup in a toast.
Madison hopped her doll towards his in the dollhouse, and in her tiny voice, asked, “Hola, mi amor. How was your day?”
He looked directly at Taren and winked back as he moved his doll in response. “Perfect, darlin’. I came home to you.”
Chapter Nineteen
Taren
Her ovaries couldn’t take much more of this. When Bella and Dante’s daughter moved and sat on Jacob’s lap while they played dolls, it was all she could do not to tackle him right there in front of everyone.
Bella appeared at the doorway holding her niece, who was fussing.
“Look who woke up,” the beautiful redhead said as she bounced the baby in her arms, trying to soothe her.
Edward started to rise from the small table where the three had been chatting, but Reagan put her hand on his arm.
“She’s probably hungry. I’ll go feed her.”
After handing the baby off, Bella looked at her daughter sitting on Jacob’s lap and offering explicit instructions on how their make believe was to go, and smiled like she’d witnessed this exchange before. Taren imagined Dante was probably a hands-on dad, and had played dolls with his daughter plenty of times. She had an amazing vocabulary for a three-year-old; something that was usually acquired from receiving a lot of attention.
