by Meg Ripley
“Do you remember what it was like when you first went overseas?”
Leona put the creamer in her own coffee until it was the color of sand. “Exciting. Terrifying. I’d known for a long time that I wanted to join the Army. I’d been getting myself ready for it for a long time, but once I actually got out there—because training didn’t count—I wondered what I’d gotten myself into.” She’d never admitted that to anyone other than herself. She hadn’t wanted to, because it made her sound like a failure compared to everything her father and her uncle had done. It was impossible to imagine that they’d ever been scared of anything.
“So, it was overwhelming, right?” Hudson was still looking down into his coffee.
Leona was grateful not to have those eyes on her right now. His gaze was too intense, and the conversation was intense enough. “Yeah. Pretty much.” She let out a small laugh. “The Army changed me a lot, I guess.”
“It does that to all of us,” Hudson assured her, “and then we have to figure out how to change back when we’re done. It’s not like we can just melt back into society, as though none of it ever happened. It seems impossible to ever be ‘normal’ again, but it also seemed impossible at one time to get used to being a soldier and dealing with war. If you could get through that, then you can get through this.”
She ran a hand over her forehead and sipped her coffee. “I guess that’s true.”
“Sure it is. And for me, I had the chance to think about life after discharge, because I knew I wasn’t reupping. It probably wasn’t the same for you.”
Leona felt her muscles relaxing, releasing tension she hadn’t even realized she was carrying around. It was a relief to talk to someone who actually understood what was going on inside her, even if she hadn’t totally understood it herself until she’d said it out loud. “No, it really wasn’t. I was going to do it for as long as they would let me, and even once I got too old to stay in the field, I figured I’d train the new recruits. I couldn’t see myself at a desk job until I was almost dead.”
Hudson nodded. “I can understand that. For me, I knew I was going to be at a desk because of my interest in communications. Sure, there’s some time out in the field, but not a ton. I was all right with that. But even if you’re not, there’s still plenty you can do to keep yourself from feeling useless and bored. The SOS Force was a good start with that, although I’m still a little miffed that you managed to find us so easily.”
“I have a few talents,” Leona replied, allowing a smug smile to cross her face. “And maybe that’s something we can work on when we’re done here.”
“Whatever you did, it went a long way toward getting you on the team. We really weren’t looking for another member, and I don’t think any of us had even entertained the idea. But someone with your record and your talent was hard to pass up.”
She didn’t have time to enjoy the compliment. A knock sounded on the front door, and all the tension instantly returned to her muscles. No one should have known they were there. They weren’t expecting any visitors.
“I’ll get it,” Hudson offered.
But she knew she needed to do this. Hudson had been completely right about adjusting to civilian life. At one point she hadn’t been sure she could truly be a soldier, but she’d done it anyway. Now she could force herself to undo it. “No, it’s all right. I’ve got it.”
Still, her blood pounded in her veins as she made her way to the front door. She’d kept a small pistol tucked in the back of her waistband once they’d arrived, but it wouldn’t be much in the way of defense depending on what was on the other side of that door. She forced her fingers around the knob and opened it.
“Hi!” chirped a perky woman on the doorstep. Her brilliant red hair was coiffed into a knot on the back of her head, and she wore enough make up for two people. The look was topped off with a sequined tank top and tight jeans. “I’m Kim Hartford, and this is my husband Kevin. We just live down the street and thought we’d come say welcome to the neighborhood!” She held out a glass casserole dish with a red cover.
Kevin looked like he’d just gotten home from work, wearing a slightly wrinkled suit and a loose tie. “We’ve been watching all the moving trucks go in and out, and Kim here just couldn’t wait to see who was moving in. Kim grabbed me and practically dragged me down the sidewalk as soon as I got home from work.”
Leona was studying them, looking for any signs that they weren’t who they said they were. But she didn’t detect a bulge of weapons under their clothing or a wire that had slipped loose from its microphone. She plastered a smile on her face. “That’s very nice of you. I’m Leona. Hank is in the other room.” They’d agreed that they couldn’t go by his true name, considering that he owned such a large company. She accepted the casserole dish, but she knew all the food inside it would likely be going in the trash.
“We’re getting the whole neighborhood together for a block party at our house on Friday night,” Kevin said, pointing over his shoulder down the street. “We’d love for the two of you to come.”
It seemed so strange to hear people say such normal, friendly things when she was on a mission. Leona reminded herself once again that she’d just have to learn to deal with it. “Thank you. We’ll be there.”
“Great! We’ll see you then!” Kim trilled. “And if you need anything in the meantime, just holler!”
“Will do. Thanks for stopping by.” Leona shut the door and let out a deep breath.
6
“I still can’t believe you said we’d go to that block party,” Hudson grumbled. He’d had a long night of listening to the neighborhood and figuring out the best places to set up security cameras. They’d been in their “home” for two days, but he still hadn’t found anything noteworthy. “I don’t have the time to mess around with something like that.”
The two of them were in the kitchen, looking through crime reports from St. Louis and the surrounding areas. Leona was bent over the table, frowning at the screen of her tablet, but she looked up at him with a mischievous grin. “We’re supposed to be blending in, right? I don’t think they would’ve been very accepting if I’d just told them we were two soldiers who’d only moved into the neighborhood so we could spy on them.”
“Of course not. I guess I was just hoping we could keep to ourselves a little bit more.” Hudson poured himself another cup of coffee. He’d survived on the stuff in the service, and that habit hadn’t changed once he’d come home. In fact, he was pretty sure it’d gotten worse once he’d officially started Taylor Communications. There was always work to be done, and he didn’t want to do it halfway.
Leona stood up and stretched, and Hudson immediately averted his eyes. They’d only been in this house together for a short time, but already he found himself thinking about her constantly. If they sat together in the spare bedroom where the surveillance equipment had been set up, he was distracted by his awareness of her body, of her breath, of a gesture as subtle as Leona sweeping a stray lock of hair behind her ear. They ate their meals together at the kitchen table, and he kept his eyes on his plate.
The worst was at night. Leona had taken one of the other small bedrooms for herself without any discussion. Hudson hadn’t argued; he liked a big bed and couldn’t imagine curling into a tiny ball on one of those twin mattresses. Even with the comfortable four poster bed, he was acutely aware of her presence across the hall. How easy it would be to slip through the doors and to her side, to see her sleep, to bring her back to his own bed where she belonged…
Damn it! He never should’ve agreed to this mission, not when he knew what was between them. He should’ve told Drake to pick someone else. Yes, it made sense for him to go since they were in lion territory, but still. The last thing Hudson wanted to do was compromise this mission because he couldn’t think with the right head.
“I think the neighbors would be a bit more suspicious if we kept to ourselves.” Leona wore her flaxen hair in a loose braid, and she flicked it over her
shoulder as she held out her own mug for more coffee. “We don’t want to be the mysterious people in the community that everyone’s talking about. I do need to talk to you about the block party, though.”
“Yeah?” He hoped she would be telling him there was some way of getting out of it. Talking about posing as her mate was one thing, but actually doing it in public would be much harder.
She twisted her mouth, a habit of hers that was surprisingly endearing. “We’re supposed to bring a dish.”
“Great,” he muttered. “Here I was thinking all the important work would be in figuring out where these weapons were coming from and whether or not the local pride is taking them over the borders of their territory. Turns out my real job is playing Betty fucking Crocker.”
Leona put her hands in the air innocently. “Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t like my cooking.”
He shot her a look. “I don’t think that’s an accurate description of the situation.” Leona had tried her hand at cooking dinner the previous night, and it’d been an unmitigated disaster. He’d never had a chance to grimace his way through it, because it was far too burned to be eaten.
“To be fair, I warned you. My mother always did the cooking, and she didn’t let the rest of us in the kitchen until she was ready to serve it up. And we both know the Army isn’t exactly famous for its culinary culture.”
“And that makes me the one who gets to cook for all the neighbors? Lucky me.” He didn’t have time for this. In fact, this whole mission was beginning to look like a waste of time. There hadn’t been any indication of suspicious activity in the neighborhood. Everything was so normal it was almost sickening. It hadn’t even rained.
The only part of his mission he’d truly been able to carry out was keeping an eye on Leona. Drake had asked him to do that, but maybe he hadn’t meant it in the same way that Hudson was doing it. He couldn’t help but keep an eye on her. It was practically torture to have her in the same household. She could be distant and aloof when she was feeling off, but Hudson was quickly learning how to deal with that.
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine. I’m going to go get ready.” Leona grinned and left the room.
He could hear the shower start a moment later and turned to the fridge, trying to remind himself that this wasn’t the first time he’d had to distract himself from his work just to keep his mission going. If he had to throw something together to serve up to the rest of the neighborhood, then so be it. And if he had to go to a party and pretend to just be an average Joe, then he could do that, too. He found all the ingredients he needed for a salad, threw them together in a bowl, and put it in the fridge to chill.
Leona was enclosed in her room when he made his way down the hall to get ready himself. As he passed the open bathroom door, the scented steam crept out into the corridor, making him close his eyes to avoid picturing her naked in the shower. That only made it worse, though. He closed himself into the master suite and ran the coldest shower he could stand.
Hudson wondered what the guys would say if they had any idea what he was going through. It was easy enough for them to all agree that they couldn’t get involved with her. They weren’t fated to her. They didn’t feel the unbelievable urge to shift in her presence and claim her. They didn’t spend all their extra brain power focusing on a woman who’d been attached to them by something stronger and stranger than any of them could understand.
Well, Drake would understand. He’d found his mate in an unexpected place. But it was too late to ask him about it now, when he’d already agreed to go on this mission with Leona. If he had a problem with it, Hudson should’ve said something about it before he left D.C.
He huffed out a breath and washed his hair and body, drying off quickly and wrapping himself in a towel before trying to decide what to wear. He’d brought plenty of casual wear, a few more specialized outfits depending on what they might end up doing for the mission, and some comfortable sweats for around the house. All the suits he typically wore to the office were left at home where they belonged. He wasn’t Hudson Taylor here. He was Hank Talcott, a simple salesman who’d moved there from the East Coast.
In the end, he settled on a white lightweight button-down with short sleeves paired with khaki cargo shorts. Casual, comfortable, but not too sloppy. Hopefully it would be good enough for Kevin and Kim and the rest of the neighborhood. He combed his hair back, hoping it would stay in place since he hadn’t bothered to get out and pick up that hair gel yet. After slipping into a pair of leather sandals, he headed back toward the kitchen.
But a woman was standing in the living room. She wore a blue dress with white polka dots that just skimmed the tops of her knees. Her back was to him, but he could see the way the dress tucked in at her slim waist. Even her shoulder blades were shapely between the wide straps of the dress, and her neck was long and smooth underneath the tendrils of curls that cascaded from her updo. Hudson cleared his throat and she turned.
It was Leona. He’d known it, somewhere deep down, and yet he couldn’t quite believe it. He’d never seen her wear anything like that, nor had he expected it. Her typical style didn’t seem much different than his own, and she preferred things that were comfortable and utilitarian instead of fashionable. But now, she was dressed like the goddess of summer. Even her face looked different, and he realized she was wearing makeup.
“You…um…you look great,” he managed to murmur. “I like your hair.”
She bit her lip, accentuating her bright red lipstick as she looked down at her dress. “You don’t think it’s too much? I brought it along just in case, but I don’t want to stand out too much.”
He swallowed. It was hard enough being in the house with her, but now that she was in that dress, he didn’t know how much longer he could control himself. He turned away toward the kitchen and pulled his dish out of the fridge to give himself something else to do. “No, I’m sure it’s perfectly fine.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever been to a block party before, unless maybe it was something that my mom dragged me to when I was a kid. I’m not sure what to do with myself.” She ran her hands over the skirt of the dress again with uncertainty.
Hudson shrugged, trying to turn this outing back into part of the mission instead of anything that seemed like a date. “Mostly, we’ll just have to hang out and be ourselves. Talk to as many people as possible, see what you can find out about them without getting too invasive, eat a bit, have a beer, and then we’ll come back home.” Even saying “home” sounded too familiar, given that they were nothing but teammates. Teammates. Right.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m asking you this. I mean, it’s not like I haven’t done an undercover mission before. This is just totally different. I’m more comfortable in camo.” She touched her hair, obviously having no idea just what she was doing to him.
He uncovered the bowl and picked up a bag of tortilla chips. “Here, try some. Tell me if it needs more salt or anything.”
Leona picked up a chip and frowned into the bowl. “What is it?”
“Cowboy caviar. Sounds weird, I know, but it’s really good. Beans, corn, tomatoes, avocados, stuff like that.” Hudson didn’t consider himself a five-star chef, but he knew how to make things that were simple and tasty. Being a bachelor had made him more than sick of drive-thru faire.
He watched as she loaded up her chip and placed it between those luscious lips. Her lined eyes widened in surprise. “Oh! That’s really good!” She reached for more.
Hudson turned away. “You’ll have to wait until the party. I’m sure Kevin and Kim will want to try it, too,” he said with a grin. “Let’s go and get this over with.”
The Hartfords’ home was similar to their own, brick with a nice front yard and plenty of space. They weren’t exactly living in a poor neighborhood, and Hudson wondered if he could ever settle down in a place like this instead of his luxury apartment. It seemed more homelike, more normal, more friendly.
; “Hey! You made it!” Kim Hartford clapped her hands together when she opened the door, pulling it open wider to admit them. “Come on in! Just about everyone else is here. We’ve got the grill going out back. There are plenty of drinks in the fridge, and we’re just putting all the food here on the table. Let me introduce you to a few people.”
Hudson had told Leona that they were to use the party as part of their mission, but he found it much more difficult than he would’ve thought. Kim and Kevin seemed genuinely excited about introducing them to the other neighbors. The men gathered around the grill on the back patio while the women laughed in the kitchen. He glanced at Leona a few times to make sure she was holding her own, unable to believe he was there with such a beauty, and then easily got lost in conversations about baseball and road construction.
At one point, he headed out to the back porch after grabbing a beer from the fridge when a woman stepped in front of him. “Oh, excuse me,” he said as he tried to step around her.
But she didn’t let him. She moved directly back into his path, tipping back her chin and jutting one hip forward. “You just moved in down the street, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, sorry. Hank Talbott.” He held out his hand.
“Cathy Cooper.” She took his hand in both of her own. Her fingers circled his, making their way slowly up his arm. “Mr. Talbott, someone said you were in sales, but I have to wonder what kind of sales would keep you in such good shape.” She arched one slim eyebrow that matched her flowing dark hair.
Hudson felt his skin heat. It was flattering, but a little too flattering. He didn’t know this woman, and he couldn’t see any reason for her to be talking to him like this. “I’m in computers.”
Cathy practically batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, that’s exciting! Always on the verge of new technology. I’d love to hear more about it. Why don’t you come over here with me? There’s a lovely little shaded area on the edge of the garden.” She began leading him away from the crowd and toward the back corner of the yard.
