Shielding Josie_Special Forces_Operation Alpha

by Casey Hagen

  She was, and he was right. It didn’t mean she had to like it.

  “I hate that you’re making sense right now,” she bit out.

  “You’ll do it?” Cole asked.

  “Why should I?” she shot back.

  “To give me that one reason to trust you,” he said quietly.

  Cole wanted to reach for her, but with the flash of anger surging through her, he figured it’d be like hugging a cactus.

  He got it. She was a loner. And, in a way so was he. She wanted respect and right now, she probably felt a whole lot used. He’d do good to tread carefully with her feelings. Especially if there was a part of him that wanted to see where this attraction could lead. “I’m not trying to feed you to the wolves. With you out there to lure them in, we have the best chance at grabbing them and turning them over to the police. It’s the quickest way for Eric to be safe again.”

  “What about the guy you’re working for? Who’s going to keep him safe from him?” She shot back.

  “He’s not interested in harming Eric. He hired us to watch Eric to make sure he isn’t tempted to sell to US enemies,” Dylan said.

  “How did he hear about the tech?” she asked.

  “There have been rumblings, but we don’t know for sure. Our client is a former soldier. Highly decorated. Lots of connections. He doesn’t want to see this technology fall into the wrong hands and put his construction teams at risk,” Dylan said.

  Cole couldn’t bring himself to recite any of it because something about Ret’s business dealings still didn’t add up and until two plus two equaled four, Cole planned to play it safe.

  “So what do you suggest?” she asked as she studied Cole.

  “You have Eric’s cell. I’m willing to bet whoever is after him, if they’ve got the connections, has it traced.”

  “And?” she asked.

  “We turn it on,” Cole said.

  She laughed, the sound less humorous and more a way for her to call him an idiot without saying the words. “Seems to me that has the potential to attract everybody. Maybe even your guy. The more players, the harder it is to control the situation and right now, it’s my ass we’re talking about—and I’m rather fond of it.”

  So was Cole.

  “She’s right,” Dylan said.

  He rolled his shoulders and tried to shed the tension building there. “You have a better idea?” Cole shot back.

  “Sure,” she said with a shrug. “Those guys were talking about going to my place. By now, I’d bet they’ve ransacked it and probably even bugged it. And if they haven’t, they will.”

  “This isn’t some cop show on TV,” Cole began.

  She scoffed. “You think that doesn’t happen in real life? I see it a whole lot more than you’d think. They’re looking for Eric’s computers, and those are in the bunker. We just need to have that conversation in my place and then head over and let them come to us.”

  “It could work,” Dylan said.

  “It sounds ridiculous. And amateurish,” Cole said.

  “And you think the guy who was supposed to smoke Eric out, but managed to burn down the whole house is complex?”

  “She’s got a point,” Dylan said, his deep chuckle mocking Cole.

  “See?” Josie said, raising her chin and smirking at him.

  “If we do this, I want the whole team there. Can you get them in place for tomorrow morning, Dylan?” Cole asked, never taking his gaze off Josie.

  “Whatever you need, we’re there,” Dylan assured them.

  “Fine. I’ll take Josie to her place at eight. I want you guys in place at Eric’s and waiting while we try to draw them in.”

  “She should go in alone,” Dylan suggested.

  “No,” Cole said.

  “You could scare them off, Cole,” Dylan pointed out.

  “That’s why I’m going to be the muscle. I’m just there to carry the computers. She calls the shots,” Cole said.

  “And they’d be listening so you’d be at my mercy,” Josie said.

  “Theoretically, yes,” Cole said, not liking the sly smile that spread over her face but fascinated just the same by her blend of sass, strength, and smarts.

  He’d spent fifteen years in the military, mostly in the SEALs, looking for that one thing that kept his heart racing as though standing on the edge of a cliff, the breeze making him sway, never knowing if a gust would come through and push him right over the edge.

  When he left the SEALs, he’d told himself he was ready to shed the adrenaline rush, until tinges of that thrill seduced him.

  But it was never quite the same as standing on that cliff—until the short time he spent with Josie.

  “I like it,” Dylan said.

  “You would,” Cole muttered before swiping the phone from the table. He took it off speaker and held it to his ear. “I’m going to give Tex a call and see if he has any information, just in case.”

  “Good call. I’ll get the team ready. It’s going to be okay. We’ve got this,” Dylan assured him.

  “Would you believe that if it were Harlow we were talking about?” Cole asked.

  Josie tilted her head, her eyebrows furrowed as she studied him.

  “It’s that serious?” Dylan said quietly.

  It shouldn’t be. They’d only kissed five minutes ago. Yesterday he’d thought her a fuck up. “Fuck—yes—no—I don’t know,” Cole said, pushing off the couch and slamming a hand through his hair.

  “I think you do, you just don’t want to admit it, but hey, what do I know?” Dylan said.

  “You know plenty,” Cole said.

  “Look, I’m going to let you go handle the situation. I’ll get things set up on my end, and I’ll check in with you first thing,” Dylan said.

  Cole pushed open the curtain and cocked a hip against the windowsill. “Thanks. I’ll forward anything Tex gives me.”

  “I’ll be on the lookout. Later,” Dylan said.

  He tossed the phone on the couch and headed for the kitchen. “You hungry?”

  “You don’t want to talk about this?” she said, following him, her gaze burning a hole into the back of his neck.

  “Right now, the only thing I want to think about is putting food in my stomach,” Cole said, yanking open the refrigerator door.

  He pulled out a couple more beers, a pack of ribeyes, sweet peppers, and asparagus.

  “You cook?” she said, opening the bottles and handing him one.

  “If I want to eat, it’s necessary,” he said, rinsing the asparagus and setting it in the colander to drain. He flicked on the grill of his six-burner stove to get the grates hot.

  “Your mother teach you?” she asked, cocking a hip on the counter next to him.

  “No mother,” he said, amazed that even after all these years, the thought of his mother made a lump the size of a grapefruit lodge in his throat.

  “I knew someone built like you had to have been created in a lab,” she said with a laugh.

  He shot her a look before reaching past her to grab a knife to slice open the steaks. “My mother didn’t stick around long enough to teach me much of anything other than what she looked like walking away.”

  Her gaze dropped to her bottle where she scratched at the letter with her nail. “Something in common then,” she said, her voice going soft as though memories had sucked her into the past.

  “Your mother left, too?” He took out a cookie sheet and prepped the veggies to broil.

  “Left, died, it’s all the same thing, right?” she muttered, turning away.

  He stepped up behind her, laid his hands on her arms, and rested his chin on the top of her head. “No, it’s not. Your mother didn’t have a choice, and I’m willing to bet she wanted nothing more than to stay with you. My mother on the other hand…” he trailed off. He didn’t need to say it, they both knew.

  His father hadn’t been enough. And neither had Cole.

  She turned in his arms and cupped his cheek. Funny, she looked diffe

rent with her guard down.

  Soft. Open.

  “How am I going to keep myself from ending up in your bed?” she whispered.

  “Easy, I’m not inviting you.” He winced at the harsh words, not meaning it quite the way it sounded.

  His tone smacked of cold, hard rejection, and she reared back. “Yeah, okay—you know, I think I’m going to—”

  “Wait, that’s not how I meant it.” He slid his hands into her soft hair and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m putting you in the line of fire tomorrow. When we go there, I won’t have you thinking that my interest in you is only to get you to go along with the plan. That’s why you’re not allowed in my bed.” The only reason. “Understood?”

  She jerked her head once and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Come on, let’s make dinner and get some rest.”

  Chapter 7

  Josie lay in Cole’s guest room, staring at the perfectly dusted ceiling fan, the sound of his weights slamming, signaling that he might just be as frustrated as she.

  She crawled out of bed, Cole’s t-shirt reaching her knees, concealing the boxer shorts she’d borrowed underneath.

  On the floor, when she opened the door, she found her jeans, tank top, underwear, and bra from the day before, washed and neatly folded, waiting for her.

  And lying next to the stack, the gun the deputies had dropped off the night before while she was in the shower.

  She clenched her thighs as zings of awareness coursed through her, and the image of her bra strap dangling from his finger flashed in her mind.

  She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

  Down girl.

  So, the guy did laundry, too. He could have done a girl a favor and given her something she could use as an excuse to hold back.

  Scratch his balls a lot—because a little could be overlooked if the guy was sexy enough.

  Pick his nose—total deal breaker. Look, everyone did it, but be stealth, man, that’s all women ask.

  Pick his teeth with a piece of unopened mail during dinner—not great, especially when that piece of broccoli finally broke free, flew across the table, and landed in a girl’s cleavage.

  All things she had witnessed over the past ten years of on and off dating.

  All things that made it a hell of a lot easier to pass on an invite to dinner or a movie and instead stay home and get the job done with the arsenal in her nightstand.

  She grabbed her clothes and headed for the kitchen and the scent of fresh coffee filling the air. The feel of the smooth tile under her feet surprised her. No bits of dirt or sand. No crumbs or sticky spots where his drink had spilled and he didn’t bother wiping it up.

  Nope.

  The occasional shirt or jacket had been tossed in a chair or bar stool, but for someone who was in and out of their place a lot and sometimes had to take off on a case with little warning, it was totally expected.

  She slid a mug from the hooks under the cabinet and poured herself a hot cup of coffee. Just as she went for the first sip, a ping sounded from behind her making her jump. Hot coffee sloshed over her hand and splattered on the floor.

  So much for clean.

  She swiped the mess with a paper towel, grabbed her coffee and Cole’s phone, and headed toward the sound of weights.

  She peeked into the room at the end of the hall, the door cracked open a mere four inches, but just enough to see Cole, lying down on his back, his chest bare and straining, his biceps bulging as he bench pressed a seemingly impossible amount of weight piled on both ends of the bar.

  Sweat glistened on his skin, rolling off the dips and valleys of his ribs and disappearing around his back only to soak into the white towel underneath him.

  Not chancing making more of a mess, she held her coffee steady in one hand, his phone in the other, and kicked open the door. “You know, you really shouldn’t do that without a spotter.”

  He blew out a breath and shot her a quick, disinterested glance before following the rest of the way through and dropping the weights onto the brackets just behind his head.

  Sitting up, he grabbed a white towel from the floor and mopped the sweat off his face. “And you definitely shouldn’t interrupt someone, mid press, who doesn’t have a spotter.”

  “True, but I thumb my nose at the rules,” she said with a shrug. Something he should understand since in a way so did he. He’d taken a stand with Dylan and kept her involved. She’d bet her PI license that he’d never done something like that before.

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” His gaze shot to his phone in her hand. “It’s a little early in our relationship for you to be snooping in my phone, don’t you think?”

  “And trust a man when he tells me that I’m the only one, I’m it for him, no other woman could possibly live up to my bad-assery and chill style? Pffft!”

  Loving the way they’d shed the awkwardness of the night before and gotten back to their flirtmance, she grinned and handed him the phone. “Actually, it went off while I was getting my coffee—by the way, thank you—” she said, lifting her mug, “So I figured I would bring it to you in case you were finally hearing from Tex.”

  He took the phone and without even glancing at the screen, he set it next to him and refocused his attention on her. “You going to share?” he asked with a nod at her cup, his hot gaze on her—okay, maybe she imagined the intensity in those eyes—but dammit, she liked those scorching looks. They made her girl parts zing, and the more that sexual energy floated between them, the longer they held their sad stories at bay. Something she desperately needed for her peace of mind, especially going into a sting.

  “Sure, but I feel obliged to tell you that coffee might not be the best choice after a workout.” She tried to ignore the way her nipples tightened and brushed against the lovingly worn fabric of his t-shirt, but every shift in the fabric was as if he’d reached out and brushed the sensitive peaks with his rough fingers and just the quick image of that burning in her mind was enough to send liquid heat right to the heart of her followed by an ache that only he could relieve.

  His large boxers, with the waist band rolled down low on her hips to keep them up, proved to be a weak barrier between them. The urge to slide them off and wrap her legs around his waist overwhelmed her, making her sway with it.

  “It’s not, but just a taste…” he took her cup and set it on the floor next to them before plucking her right off the floor with strong hands on her waist. He lifted her over to straddle him, almost exactly as she imagined, “never hurt anybody.”

  He thrust his hands in her hair at the nape of her neck, and with one last meeting of their eyes, he pulled her mouth down to his, tilted his head, and dove deep with his hot tongue.

  She locked her arms around him and gave as good as she got while he hardened and grew against the heart of her, nestled between her parted thighs.

  This was what she had been missing all those years dating the ball scratchers, nose pickers, junk mail flossers.

  He thrust against her and groaned, the two bits of fabric separating them doing nothing to hide the pulsing of his flesh and the promise of what was to come.

  Later.

  “Coffee is better from your lips,” he murmured, dragging his mouth from hers and trailing light kisses over the line of her jaw.

  “So, what I’m getting here is that working out makes you horny,” she said with a laugh.

  He growled against the sensitive skin just below her ear. “Having you in the room next to mine, in my shirt, and desperate to have you in my bed makes me horny. It was a brutal night.”

  She pulled back and ran her fingers over the stubble on his cheek. “Are we really going to cross that line?”

  He took her hand and kissed the palm. “Tonight, I plan on crossing every line with you, but right now, we have work to do.”

  He stood, taking her with him and then easing her onto her feet, every part of her rubbing against his chest.