Whatever.
She set the phone aside and stood. Glanced around her little house. Dammit, she liked her home here, with its wood-burning fireplace, claw-foot bathtub, and the rustic reclaimed wood she’d chosen for the cabinets in the kitchen. In fact, it was the first place she’d ever owned that felt like hers, the first place she’d considered a home. She’d hate to leave it, but if HORNET fired her, she had no reason to stay in Wyoming. Jesse certainly hadn’t given her a reason. In fact, he hadn’t given her anything in the weeks since returning from Martinique. Not even a freaking text.
He said he’d needed time, but she was starting to suspect by “time” he’d actually meant “never.”
As in, “I never want to see you again.”
Which hurt like a bitch, but she’d get over it. Maybe. Well, probably not, but she’d survive. She’d soldier on. The same as she’d always done.
On her way out the door, she passed the gray barn cat that had wandered over from the Warrick ranch and inexplicably adopted her as his person. His given name had been Lucifer, though she’d taken to calling him Lunchmeat out of spite of his adoration for her. She didn’t even like cats, but as she stared down at the furry lump of fat stretched out in the morning sun on her front porch, she realized she’d miss him if she left. A lot. They had a routine. He’d wake her up ungodly early for breakfast, and she’d threaten to make a sandwich out of him. After breakfast, they’d mutually ignore each other until he was ready for dinner, and the process repeated. Sometimes there was some sneaky cuddling that neither would admit to under oath. The whole arrangement worked for them. Actually, it worked better than every single one of her past relationships.
Maybe Lunchmeat should go with her, wherever she ended up.
She gave the cat a belly rub. He promptly curled up and bit her hand. It was another routine she’d miss if she left him behind. “Pack your litter box, buddy. If they give me the boot, we’re not sticking around.”
She decided to walk the half mile to Quinn’s house. It was shaping up to be a gorgeous summer day, the sun bright in a cloudless blue sky, giving everything a golden glow. Plus, walking gave her a few more moments to enjoy the life she’d been building here. Was it perfect? No. But it was worlds better than the lonely life she’d led in El Paso.
God. She didn’t want to leave.
All too soon, she found herself at Quinn and Mara’s house. Their cat, Hawkeye, was stretched out in a patch of sun on their porch much like Lunchmeat had been on hers. He was blocking the top step, and she was forced to step over him as she passed. The one-eyed beast lifted his head and seemed to glare at her.
She glared right back. “Lunchmeat is cuter.”
Hawkeye flicked his tail—she figured it was the cat equivalent of the middle finger—and went back to his nap.
“Stop antagonizing Hawk,” Mara’s voice said from inside.
She pushed open the screen. “I wasn’t antagonizing him. We have an understanding. A relationship based in mutual dislike. It works for us.”
Quinn and Mara’s dog, B.J., nearly keeled over in excitement at having a visitor, hopping around on her three legs. Her curled, bushy tail was nothing but a high-speed blur of tan fur. Grinning, Lanie bent down to pick her up. She was not the brightest pup in the litter, but boy, was she sweet.
She had to fend off dog kisses as she carried B.J. into the living room. Mara sat in one of the recliners, a sundress stretched tight over her big belly, her swollen ankles propped up on a pillow on the footrest.
She fanned herself with a magazine. “Ugh. Get this kid out of me.”
Lanie set B.J. down and smirked at her best friend. “Girl, you’ll get no sympathy from me. You did this to yourself.”
Mara grinned. “So worth it.”
“You won’t be saying that when you’re trying to push that kid out. You’ll be threatening to cut off Quinn’s balls.”
“He says I did threaten that and worse last time.”
Lanie tsked. “And yet you let him do this to you again.”
She rubbed her belly like she was already stroking her baby’s cheek. “Still worth it.”
“I hope so.” Audrey Van Amee-Bristow came out of the downstairs bathroom with one hand pressed to her belly. She looked genuinely green. “Because right now I’m wondering what the hell I’ve done to myself.”
“Not going to tell you it’s easy,” Mara said as Audrey flopped down on the couch. “But you’ll forget all the discomforts when your baby is placed in your arms.”
Audrey splayed her hand over her still flat stomach. “I hope she has Gabe’s eyes. He has such pretty eyes.”
Gabe Bristow, the man who could glare an oil stain off a driveway, had pretty eyes? Lanie tried not to snort at that, but didn’t quite succeed. When the two hormonal women frowned at her, she covered her gaffe by asking, “How do you know it’s a she? Isn’t it, like, the size of a pea right now?”
“I just have a feeling.” Audrey shrugged, then frowned. “Is that weird?”
“Not at all. I knew this one”—Mara tapped her belly—“was a boy long before we saw the ultrasound.”
“Bianca looks so much like you. I bet he’ll look just like Quinn,” Audrey said, and that set the two women off talking about babies and cribs and breast milk and other things Lanie didn’t understand.
The love the women had for children they hadn’t even seen yet made something wrench loose in the middle of her chest. Would she ever know that feeling? Probably not, if Jesse didn’t want her. He was the only man she wanted, the only one she might consider doing the whole pregnancy and parenthood thing with.
Suddenly, she very badly needed to escape the living room. Even the idea of getting fired didn’t disturb her as much as the ones going through her head now.
“I, uh…” She fumbled. “I need to go. I have a meeting.”
“Yes, you do,” Mara said. “They’re waiting for you in the office.” She was usually very expressive but her face gave nothing away this time.
Lanie crossed the room to the double doors of the office. Instead of finding Gabe, Quinn, and Tucker Quentin gathered around the desk plotting a deadly op or world domination, she found the three of them sitting on the floor coloring with little Bianca. Like any sane female, Bianca was thrilled to be surrounded by three handsome men and basked in their attention. She babbled, but her baby gibberish was starting to sound more like English each day. She demanded Tucker use the pink crayon to color in the sun, and he caved like he wasn’t one of the most powerful people on Earth.
More with all the happy family stuff. They sure knew how to kick a girl when she was down.
And, okay, that wasn’t fair. They weren’t happy and secure in their relationships to spite her. She was just being mopey.
And, besides, as far as she knew, Tucker didn’t have a pregnant wife waiting for him at home. He was as single as she. Though, he didn’t seem to be as bothered by it. At one time, she hadn’t been either. When had that changed?
She cleared her throat to draw the men’s attention. “You wanted to see me,” she said to nobody in particular.
“Lanie. Hey. Yeah, thanks for coming.” Gabe closed the coloring book he’d been working in and used his cane to lever himself up to his feet.
Quinn scooped up Bianca. “Give me a minute.” He walked out with his daughter, a handful of crayons, and her coloring book.
Lanie waited, but neither of the other two seemed inclined to speak until Quinn returned. The quiet was driving her nuts. It was bad enough waiting for the anvil to drop without adding an uncomfortable silence to the equation.
“I just heard the news,” she blurted. It wasn’t exactly true—she’d known Audrey was pregnant before he had, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “Congrats.”
Gabe looked at her for a moment like he was trying to figure out what she was talking about.
“The baby,” she prompted and watched his face light up with a genuine smile that reached all the way
to his eyes. And, okay, she saw it now. When he smiled like that, his hazel eyes were pretty.
“Thanks. We’d been trying for a while before…” He waved at himself like that was explanation enough. And it was. She knew exactly what he meant.
Before he was shot.
She noticed he never completed that sentence, never said it out loud. That couldn’t be healthy.
“So yeah,” he finished. “We’re excited it finally happened.” Even though it was technically Quinn’s desk, he took a seat behind it like he owned it. Quinn wouldn’t mind, though. In their little realm, Gabe was king.
And if Gabe was king, Tucker Quentin was God.
She wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing here. He gathered the rest of the coloring books in a neat stack and set them aside as he propped a hip on the corner of the desk. In his perfectly fitted jeans and an open-collared white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, he looked like he belonged on the cover of GQ. In fact, she thought she might have seen him there once or twice before.
He gave her his magazine-worthy smile. “How have you been, Lanie?” Either he was a good actor or that was genuine concern in his voice. Having seen the movies he’d starred in as a teenage heartthrob, she knew he wasn’t a good actor. His concern loosened the knots of tension bunched up along her spine.
“All healed.” She held out her arms to prove it. “All’s good. Well, okay, not really. Honestly, I’m wondering what I’m doing here. Are you gonna fire me for killing Schumacher?”
Another flash of a smile. “We’ll get to that.”
Quinn returned and closed the door behind him and the atmosphere in the room shifted from casual small talk to let’s-get-down-to-business.
She drew a breath and steeled herself. Here it comes. But if they were going to fire her, would they be so relaxed? And no way Mara, her best friend, would let her walk in here without warning her.
“We have a lot to discuss, so let’s get to it,” Gabe said and drew a thick file from one of the drawers. He passed it across the desk to her. “Tuc’s men handled the interrogation of the surviving Defion operatives from the situation in Martinique. They claim they were hired by Bioteric Pharmaceuticals to steal research from Doctors Tiffany Peters and Claire Oliver. For the last several years, the women have been working on a panacea drug that’s supposed to cure any and all viruses. Needless to say, Bioteric is very interested in getting their hands on it.”
“And they weren’t opposed to making the doctors disappear to get it,” Tuc added. “Lucky for us, Defion’s team picked the wrong time and place to try.”
“I wouldn’t say Tiffany Peters is feeling very lucky right now. Or Danny.” Lanie spoke before she thought better of it and all eyes shifted in her direction.
After a heavy moment, Tuc inclined his head. “You’re right. I worded that wrong. We lost a good man and an innocent woman, and I never meant to make light of that. But we did keep Defion from their goal, which is a win for us. Do you know who Bioteric is?”
She nodded. “Who doesn’t?” With the way their drug commercials played constantly on TV, they were a household name. “They’re the biggest drug company in the world.”
“And if they got their hands on that research, they’d control the entire pharmaceutical industry. It’ll give them the power to decide who lives and who dies.”
“The power to play God,” Lanie said and whistled. “That’s bad.”
Gabe nodded. “Which brings us to our next problem. Jean-Luc.”
She looked from one man to the next. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s gone.” Quinn rubbed his temple like he had a headache. “He went against our direct orders and took off in search of Claire Oliver. He thinks she’s still in danger.”
“Well, if Bioteric and Defion are after her, I’d say it’s a good bet he’s right.”
“We agree,” Gabe replied. “But we don’t have enough intel yet to launch a rescue op. I told Jean-Luc that. He didn’t like hearing it. Now we’re gonna have to find him, too.”
Lanie set the file down on the desktop without looking at it. “While this is all interesting, I don’t get why you’re telling me.”
Tuc spoke up first. He nudged the file toward her again. “I’m prepared to offer you a job.”
She opened her mouth. Closed it without making a sound. Of all the things she’d expected from this meeting, a job offer hadn’t been anywhere on that list. “I, uh, already have one…” She glanced between Gabe and Quinn. “Don’t I?”
“You absolutely do,” Quinn said. “The guys told us how you handled yourself in Martinique. Hell, you handled everything. Whether or not you accept Tuc’s offer, you’ll always have a spot on the team.”
“But this”—Tuc tapped the file with two fingers—“is more.”
Slowly, she reached for it, picked it up, opened the cover. Inside was a contract like the one she’d signed when she first started with HORNET, except the job description was much, much different. Her head snapped up so hard she gave herself whiplash. “Field commander?”
Tuc motioned to the other two men. “Gabe and Quinn will no longer go on ops. They’ll work behind the scenes from now on, stay here and beef up the training program. So we need someone with a level head to take command.”
Again, her mouth was doing the fish thing. Open, shut. Open, shut. The folder wobbled in her hands. “And you picked me?”
“In all honesty, we picked Jesse first,” Quinn admitted. “But he turned us down and suggested you. After seeing how you handled things in Martinique, we had to agree with him. You’re the best choice for the job.”
“Even better than Jesse,” Gabe added, “since his goal always has been and always will be a medical career. What’s your goal?”
She thought of Danny then, sitting on the beach, staring out over the water, and she heard herself repeating his words: “I want to help people.” Then she laughed. “And kick bad guy ass. If I can do both at the same time, that’s my dream job.”
“Yeah,” Quinn said and grinned at the other two men. “This is gonna work. So you’re in?”
She folded the file against her chest. She wanted to say yes, but…there was something she needed to do first. “Can I sleep on it tonight?”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Dad, look!”
At the sound of Connor’s laughter, Jesse set aside the saddle he’d been cleaning and stuck his head out of the tack room. Half Pint, the only pony in his stable, nuzzled Connor’s side, searching the pockets of his lightweight jacket. His son looked absolutely thrilled, like a five-year-old told he was going to Disneyland. “She knows you have a treat for her.”
In the two weeks since their return from Martinique, Connor still grumbled about his chores in the barn, but now he actually came home from school and did them with little other fuss. He’d fallen for the horses—every single one from sweet gelding Almonds, to the temperamental mare Dixie Diva, to quiet Old Lady Ophelia, and even Tasmanian Devil, a.k.a. Tazzy, the occasionally fractious stallion. But Connor had a particular soft spot for Half Pint, the Shetland pony with spiky black hair and a fuzzy, stocky tan body. He’d taken to bringing her a sugar cube every afternoon before he started his chores.
“You want your sugar, huh?” Connor said to the horse.
She nickered and shook her head in an emphatic up-down of agreement. Connor dug the sugar cube out of his pocket, watched her eat it out of his hand, then produced an apple—Jesse was pretty sure it was the one he’d put in Connor’s school backpack yesterday—and also gave that to her.
Amused, but trying not to show it, Jesse shook his head. “You spoil her.”
“Only the best for my girl.” Connor ruffled Half Pint’s spiky mane, the strode over to greet Diva, who pranced back and forth in her stall, throwing her head in exasperation that Half Pint was getting attention and she wasn’t. “Oh, and Dad? Someone’s here for you,” he added a little too casually. “Out front.”
Jesse�
�s suspicion radar went on red alert. “Who?”
Connor only shrugged and grabbed a bridle before opening Dixie’s stall door. He was good with the horses. A natural. But that wasn’t a surprise. He may not have been raised around them, but he had Warrick blood in his veins and Warricks always were and always had been horse people.
Which made Jesse wondered about the decisions he’d recently come to. With ranch life so thick in his blood, was it wrong to want more for himself and his son? He didn’t know. But something had to change.
He considered ignoring his visitor. He had a pretty good feeling he knew who it’d be, and he knew his asked for time was up. But in the end, he walked out of the barn and finally faced the woman he loved.
Lanie leaned against the hood of her car, long legs crossed at the ankle. When she spotted him, she straightened and gave a tentative smile. Which just wasn’t right. Lanie wasn’t a tentative woman.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Haven’t seen you around.”
He stopped a few feet from her. “I told you I needed some time.”
“I get that. What happened to Danny…” She trailed off. Drew a breath that moved her shoulders. “Well. It shook us all.”
“Yeah.”
Silence stretched between them, so long it became awkward.
Lanie shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jean shorts and rocked on her feet. “You, uh, know it wasn’t your fault, right? The autopsy showed he could’ve been shot in a hospital surgical suite with a full trauma staff on stand-by and he still would’ve died.”
“I know.” It had taken many sleepless nights replaying the scenes over and over in his head, analyzing and reanalyzing his every move, before he’d finally accepted that there had been no other possible outcome.
But he still couldn’t shake the thought that if he’d had more knowledge, maybe Danny would have survived. He wanted to learn more. He wanted to be better prepared. He wanted the MD after his name.
Lanie didn’t look convinced, but he wasn’t yet ready to talk about the decision he’d made regarding his future with HORNET. Not when he still wasn’t sure what their future held. Or even if they had one together. He certainly wanted one. He could admit that now. He’d only sworn off women in the first place because of her. He’d convinced himself that if he led a monk’s life, his feelings for her would disappear.
Code of Honor (HORNET) Page 22
