Playing Dirty

by Tiffany Snow

  At about a quarter to noon, Parker came out of his office.

  “I’m heading to lunch,” he said as he walked by.

  “Wait,” I called out, jumping up from my chair. He paused as I scurried around the counter. “I, um, need your help … on this report.”

  Parker looked at me strangely. “What report?”

  I thought fast. “The report for Contracts. They, um, need to know which customers have holdings in the Asian markets.”

  “Why?”

  Good question.

  I gave a fake little laugh. “Like they’re going to tell me. I don’t know; I just got the request in and they need it by this afternoon.”

  Parker glanced at his watch, frowning. “And you can’t do it on your own?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “You know I get confused with some of the Asian stuff.” Parker wasn’t fluent, but he knew enough Chinese to get by, whereas it was all Sanskrit to me.

  “Okay, fine,” he said, heading back toward his office. “Send me what you have so far.”

  That wouldn’t take long, since I had nothing.

  “Sure!” I said brightly to his retreating back. “Thanks a lot. Really appreciate it.”

  He glanced back and arched a brow before going back into his office.

  Hurrying to my computer, I created a quick-and-dirty spreadsheet and threw a few companies onto it, then sent it to Parker. I felt kind of bad for making him do made-up work, but then I thought of what could happen to him outside and the feeling went away. This whole idea that he was going to work with the CIA to lure Viktor out was appalling.

  A half hour later, I took the Szechuan chicken into his office. “Hungry?” I asked, setting the plate down on his desk.

  Parker glanced up at me, then sat back in his chair.

  “And Contracts called,” I added. “Greta said they didn’t need the report anymore. They found an easier way to pull the data.” No more guilt over making him do unnecessary work.

  “Really,” he said. “That’s funny, because I called Contracts to get some clarification, and they didn’t know anything about a report they’d requested.”

  Shit. I kept a bland smile on my face as I folded his napkin and carefully set the silverware down.

  “You probably just didn’t talk to the right people,” I said. “Anyway, thanks for your help. Sorry it ended up being a time-waster.”

  “Yes, let’s talk about that,” Parker said. “You just happened to order take-out that quickly?”

  My smile faltered a bit but I forced another laugh. “I know, right? That new place across from Starbucks is crazy fast.”

  “Sage …” Parker sighed and I gave up the game, standing in front of his desk like a kid caught sneaking candy. “What’re you doing?”

  I stared at my toes, the peachy orange so cheery against the deep gray of the carpet, and didn’t answer.

  “I have a meeting tonight with my CIA contact,” he said after a moment, “to decide the best course of action.”

  “You mean to see how they can best use you as bait?” My voice was bitter.

  “Better me than you,” he shot back.

  My hands were clenched into fists at my sides and I wondered if the CIA would even care if Parker got killed doing this.

  Getting up from his chair, Parker rounded the desk and stood in front of me. Taking my hands in his, he said, “Sage, I know you’re not happy about this, but it’s my decision. They’ll keep you safe, and the sooner we can get Viktor, the safer all of us will be.”

  I was still staring at the floor, afraid to look up at him and what he might see in my eyes. The thought of Parker putting himself deliberately in harm’s way, for my sake, left me with conflicting emotions. On one level, it stunned me that he would do that, but then again, he’d said he was a Marine. Maybe it was an honor type of thing and not as personal as it felt.

  It also took a lot of courage. Viktor was former KGB and had the kind of mercenaries and assassins at his disposal that I could only imagine. Parker’s “mission” seemed doomed before it had even begun.

  “Hey, look at me,” he said softly. His fingers tipped my chin up until our eyes met. His gaze took in the tears clinging to my lashes. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t know that,” I said. “Ryker’s going undercover, and now you’re doing this, and I-I …” I pressed my lips tightly together, unable to put into words how terrified it made me that both the men in my life were putting themselves in grave danger.

  Parker didn’t reply and something seemed to catch his eye behind me because he released my hands and took a step back. A moment later, the door to the office opened. I turned around as Ryker stepped inside.

  Rounding his desk, Parker said, “She’ll be back in a few hours, Ryker. No need to check up on her.”

  “I didn’t come here for Sage, asshole,” Ryker retorted, glancing at me. “I need a few minutes with your boss, babe. Alone.”

  I opened my mouth to ask questions, but something about the look on his face made me nod and turn away. I closed the door behind me and settled in at my desk.

  They were both still standing and the differences between the two men were striking.

  Though they were the same height, Parker was dressed in a tailored Tom Ford suit, the deep charcoal a stark contrast to the white shirt he wore. His tie was one of my favorites, a deep eggplant shot through with silver. A matching pocket square peeked from his lapel.

  In contrast, Ryker looked even rougher than usual. He hadn’t shaved, and his aviators were hooked on the front of the gray tank he wore. The black leather jacket and jeans were a given. When he moved a certain way, you could see the glint of metal at his side.

  And yet, differences aside, they carried themselves with exactly the same confidence-bordering-on-arrogance.

  I felt not the slightest twinge of conscience when I reached for my phone, toggling the switch that would turn on the intercom in Parker’s office. I pretended to work on my computer while I listened.

  “… I do for you?” Parker was asking Ryker.

  “This isn’t about me,” he replied. “This is about Sage.” My ears perked up.

  “What about her?”

  “I need you … to watch her. Look out for her.”

  “I’m doing that anyway. Viktor’s not going to give up.”

  “Viktor’s not the only problem,” Ryker said. “I have to do a job. There’s a slight chance it could put her at risk.”

  “What kind of job?”

  A pause.

  “Leo Shea.”

  I was a little surprised Ryker told Parker the truth.

  “You’re going after him again?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And he knows about Sage.”

  “Yeah. In case she didn’t tell you, Leo sent a flunky to her apartment building the other night.”

  There was another pause and I snuck a glance into the office. Ryker was walking toward the windows, looking out at the view of the city. His arms were crossed over his chest. Parker stared after him.

  “He’d come after her, you think?”

  “If my cover should get blown, maybe. Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

  “Are you going to have any backup or are you going in alone?”

  “Unfortunately, it isn’t like the Corps. I don’t have buddies to watch my back. I’m on my own. When you’re in deep enough, there’s not a lot they can do to protect you.”

  “How dangerous is this?”

  “They’re fucking drug and arms dealers, protecting a billion-dollar business. How dangerous do you think it is?” Ryker’s sarcasm was bitter.

  “You think this is a good idea? You and Sage …”

  Ryker turned to face Parker. “Me and Sage what?”

  “I thought things were getting serious between the two of you.”

  “How is our relationship any of your business?” Ryker’s tone had been matter-of-fact before, though not particularly friendly. Now it was hostile. />
  “I care about Sage. If you get your ass killed, it affects her.” His voice was as hard and cold as Ryker’s.

  “Glad to know you give a shit.”

  I could almost feel the tension in the room as I watched them through the glass, unable to look away.

  “Actually, I do,” Parker said, coming out from behind his desk. He pushed his hands into his pockets. “You were the one who decided we couldn’t move past Natalie.”

  Ryker said nothing, his gaze returning to the window.

  “Isn’t it time we bury the past?” Parker asked.

  “Interesting choice of words.”

  I could see the tension return to Parker’s frame. “You may have decided you don’t give a damn about me, but I still care what happens to you.” He was next to Ryker now, who finally turned to look at him. “So if you get in a bind, you need backup, you’d better fucking call me, or so help me, I’ll kill you myself.”

  A beat passed. “You want to move on?” Ryker asked at last. “Then prove to me you’ve changed. I’m trusting you to take care of Sage, keep her safe. That’s all. Don’t make me regret it.”

  Silence.

  “Understood.”

  I was mesmerized, watching them. Yeah, they were talking about me, but there was a lot going on there between them and I couldn’t help hoping this was a first step toward reconciliation.

  Ryker headed for the office door and I quickly flipped off the intercom. I got up and rounded the counter as he let the door swing shut behind him. I saw Parker moving behind his desk, his gaze on us.

  “So what was that all about?” I asked, pretending of course that I hadn’t listened to the entire thing.

  “I’m heading in tonight,” he said. “I don’t know when I’ll see you. It may be sporadic, and at weird times, but I’ll do what I can.”

  I shook my head. “It’s fine. I’d rather you not put yourself at risk.” My throat was thickening with tears that I was desperately trying to swallow down. “Um, so this guy thought you were dead. Is he going to just … accept … that you’re not and let you back into his organization?”

  Ryker hesitated. “I’ll be fine.”

  He was deliberately lying to me from what he’d said to Parker about how dangerous it was, which told me even more. My stomach turned over and I didn’t trust myself to speak.

  “Take this,” he said, handing me a slip of paper. “It’s the number for Malone, my partner. If you absolutely have to reach me, call him. He’ll know where I am.”

  He moved closer, sliding an arm around my waist and his lips by my ear.

  “I’ll find a way to communicate with you,” he said. “Trust me.”

  “Okay,” I whispered. “Kiss me.”

  It didn’t matter that we were in an office, standing by my desk, his lips met mine and the real world melted away. I put everything I had into that kiss, trying to convey what I was afraid to put into words—my fear, longing, worry, and yes, love. I’d fallen in love with Ryker without even realizing it, not until I was faced with losing him.

  I wondered if he felt the same.

  My fingers were sliding through his hair, a hand curled around the back of his neck, and our bodies pressed tightly together when he finally raised his head.

  His eyes were dark and serious as he looked at me. “Don’t worry,” he said, the corner of his lips tipping up in a half-smile. “I’m a tough sonofabitch. I’ll be okay.”

  My answering smile was a little watery and weak, but I tried.

  Digging in his pocket, he handed me a set of keys. “This is to my truck and house,” he said. “No one will find you there, and McClane will watch over you.”

  I nodded again. “Okay.”

  “And it’ll help,” he said, his hands tightening on my waist, “to know you’re sleeping in my bed.”

  That made my chest tight and I couldn’t speak. He smiled again and brushed his lips to my forehead, then he was striding toward the elevators. I watched until he’d disappeared inside.

  I glanced into Parker’s office as I turned back to my desk. He was watching me, the expression on his face one of grave resignation, and it pushed me over the edge. Tears fell and I hurried to the restroom to lose my composure in semi-privacy.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Parker drove me to Ryker’s apartment after work and walked me inside. McClane greeted me as enthusiastically as he always did and I had to dodge his leaps.

  “No!” I commanded, trying to be as authoritative as Ryker.

  The curt reprimand had the dog obediently plopping his ass on the floor, tail thumping as he stared up adoringly at me. I sighed.

  “So where’s this meeting of yours?” I asked him, setting my purse on the couch. McClane immediately began sniffing the leather and I watched him, hoping he didn’t think it was an oversize chew toy.

  “Actually … here.”

  I frowned. “Really? Why? I mean, I’m glad, because I really want to know what’s going on, but isn’t it a bit strange to have them come here?”

  “It’s where you are,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on a chair. I automatically grabbed it up and brushed a few stray dog hairs from the fabric, then hung it in the nearly empty coat closet by the front door. “Plus, like Ryker said, this place has no connection to either of us. It won’t be on Viktor’s radar.”

  I processed this as I let McClane out the back door and refilled his doggy dish with his dinner. Opening the fridge, I surveyed the contents, wondering if Ryker had anything I could scrounge for dinner.

  But the shelves were pretty bare. An old pizza box, a few beers, some bottled water, lots of condiments, a couple of eggs, and that was about it.

  “Looks like he could use a Deirdre,” Parker said from behind me. He reached over my shoulder and grabbed a beer off the shelf.

  “We all could use a Deirdre,” I replied, taking a beer for myself. “Looks like I need to go to the store.”

  “I can take you.”

  I shut the fridge and turned around, raising an eyebrow. “You’re going to take me to the grocery store? You are.”

  “Sure. Why not?” He used the edge of the counter to pop the lid off the bottle, traded me bottles and did the same with the second before taking a swig.

  I narrowed my eyes, taking a sip of the brew before I spoke. “Have you ever even been to a grocery store?”

  His lips curved in a half-smile. “There’s a first time for everything.”

  I couldn’t help a smile back. “Do we have time? I don’t want you to miss your meeting.”

  “Trust me, he won’t be here until late. Let’s go. I’m starving.” He took another long drink and set the bottle aside.

  Okay then.

  I directed him to a supermarket a couple of miles away, feeling a sense of the surreal as I grabbed a cart and started pushing it down an aisle, Parker by my side.

  “So this is where food comes from …” Parker said in mock wonderment. I glanced up at him and grinned, his answering smile genuine enough to take my next couple of breaths.

  I wasn’t a gourmet cook, but I got by, courtesy of some lessons from the cook we’d had at home since shortly after I’d turned four. Her name was Rita and she’d insisted I needed to learn a few dishes to make when I lived on my own.

  I grabbed the ingredients for one of those meals, plus a few other things that I considered staples—real half-n-half for my coffee, peanut M&M’s, and a bottle of wine. Okay, two.

  Parker pulled out his wallet for the cashier.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. I was digging in my purse for my money as he handed over his credit card.

  He gave me a look like I was an idiot. “Paying. I may not come here often, but I’m relatively sure they prefer you to pay before you walk out the door.”

  “I mean why are you paying for my food?” I asked in exasperation. The cashier had already swiped the card and was handing it back by the time I’d found my wallet, unzipped it, and dug out my ca
rd.

  “Because I wanted to,” he said simply, taking the groceries from the bagger and walking away before I could argue further.

  I followed him out the door and back to the car, trying not to think of how … domestic this whole scene was. After months of the return to ultra-professional at the office, it was too welcome a feeling, and I realized I’d missed the short time of intimacy Parker and I’d had.

  We were almost back to Ryker’s when he asked, “So what did you think about what Ryker said, this job he’s doing?”

  I glanced at him, decided to play dumb. “He said he’d be okay, that I shouldn’t worry.”

  Parker gave me a look. “You really think I don’t know you were listening?”

  My face got hot. “I only use that in emergencies.”

  “Like when you were listening to me order your birthday present?”

  “I wanted a scarlet pashmina. You were ordering coral. I look awful in pink.” I loved that scarf and had worn it all winter. A fabulous blend of silk and cashmere, it was a great splash of color in the drab winter months. And the orangey-pink that he’d been about to order would have been hideous.

  Parker snorted, his gaze back on the road. “I told you to just order your own present and put it on my card.”

  “Which is exactly what I did for Christmas. You were quite generous.”

  His lips twitched. “Back to the original subject,” he said. “You heard him say that Leo might give you trouble.”

  “I’m much more concerned about Ryker than myself,” I said. I’d been trying not to think about what he was doing tonight, knowing if I did, I’d be nearly incapacitated with worry. “And I think you are, too.”

  Parker didn’t answer, pulling in to Ryker’s driveway and turning off the car. We took the groceries inside and Parker put them away while I started dinner.

  “I didn’t know you cooked,” Parker said, snagging a snow pea and popping it in his mouth.

  I shrugged. “Not everyone has a Deirdre.”

  “So why do you try to pretend you’re not related to your dad?” he asked as I layered chicken and vegetables in a pan.

  “Yeah, how long have you known about that?” Parker had even spoken to my parents before, but I hadn’t realized he’d known the truth.