by April Hunt
“I’m telling you, Stone,” Trey added. “I know him from somewhere—or I feel like I should know him and it’s driving me fucking crazy.”
“Guys, I get it.” Stone sympathized with their frustration, scrubbing his hand over his beard and looking like he was about to start pulling it out, roots and all. “But it’s not like we’re going to be sitting down with our thumbs up our ass. Charlie’s already loaded the main bastard’s facial sketch into our databases and shared it with the investigators the Senator hired to look into the threat. If we get a hit, we’ll pass it on to Secure Solutions so they can use it to track the bastard down, but our focus needs to be on keeping Elle Monroe safe.”
Ever since the morning in Thailand, her safety was all Trey thought about. At least, when he wasn’t thinking about how she felt against his mouth. Or in his hands.
Trey ignored the sudden hush that swept over the room and leaned back, balancing his chair on its back two legs. He felt the fucking looks—from Rafe, from Vince, from Logan—from all of them, including Stone.
“What am I missing here?” Stone asked, his dark eyebrows lifted up in confusion as his attention bounced from man to man.
Chase chuckled. “I told you we should’ve had the water tested before we bought this crater—and then I said it again after Ortega came down with jungle love fever.”
“Hey, now,” Rafe half-heartedly defended himself, and then grinned, no doubt thinking about his lusty little redhead. He shrugged. “That was it…just hey, now. Because he’s right. There’s no sense in me denying it.”
Vince got up and helped himself to one of the bottled waters in the corner fridge. “Why the fuck do you think I suck down these things? The shit here isn’t safe.”
Stone growled, “Would someone care to bring me into the joke?”
“There’s nothing happening between me and the Senator’s daughter that wasn’t mutual or short-lived,” Trey finally defended himself to his asshole friends. “Maybe instead of worrying about my fucking love life, you all should start worrying about the storm clouds that are going to brew when you tell Elle that she’s going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future.”
Logan peered over Trey’s shoulder. The former sniper, always cool and laid-back, thunked his boots to the floor with a softly muttered expletive. “Too late, man. It’s already fucking raining.”
Trey turned and immediately swallowed a curse. Charlie and Penny flanked Elle, not a smile or hint of a grin between the three of them as they stepped into the room. It was like watching a pack of velociraptors from that dinosaur movie, the three of them spreading apart and making it near impossible to keep track of them all at the same time.
“Babe,” Rafe acknowledged Penny.
He stood to greet his fiancée and was left standing alone when she took his seat instead. Vince stole a glance at his empty spot. He wasn’t so diplomatic about giving up his chair. He made a quick grab to mark his territory, getting Charlie’s pointy elbow drilled into his midsection for good measure.
“Goddamn it, woman,” Vince growled.
Charlie ignored him, lifting her sneakered feet onto the conference table. “We figured that our invitations to your party got lost in the mail, but now we’re here, and the fun can start.” She patted the empty chair next to her, urging Elle over—within direct sight-line of Trey’s own position. “Come on and have a seat, love. Let’s hear what the boys have to say.”
Stone looked weary as he leaned his elbows on the table. “We were only going over our options, Charlie.”
“You mean the ones that involve me?” Elle chimed in, sitting next to Charlie.
Fuck if she didn’t stare down Stone until he shifted in his seat. Sean Stone made uncomfortable by a woman half his size—unreal, although justifiable.
“I think you said back in New York that I’d get answers to my questions once I was safe,” Elle reminded him. She looked around the spacious room, blatantly passing over him. “I don’t think I’m going to get much safer than here.”
“You’re not. Nothing and no one is getting to you here,” Trey spoke up in hopes of getting her to look his way. It worked, and her blue eyes nearly knocked him off his fucking chair.
Something about the woman turned off every brain cell in his head whose goal wasn’t getting her naked and in his hands. That’s what had happened in Thailand and on the plane…and they needed to have a conversation about what they were going to do about it.
His underlying hope? Not a damn fucking thing.
But being surrounded by his friends wasn’t the prime time to hash things out. He needed to wrestle his dick into behaving and lift his mind out of the fucking gutter. For now.
“Well?” she eventually urged him to continue. “Then start talking. Tell me what’s happening.”
The woman didn’t mess around. Stone gave him the small nod to go ahead. Yeah, make him be the harbinger of bad fucking news. “The bottom line’s that a few days before you were scheduled to be back in the States, someone contacted your father’s staff with threats against you, and they’re credible—as you figured out by the airport and the gala. They’re not fucking around.”
“Why?” Elle asked.
“What do you mean, ‘Why?’?” Her question surprised him.
“Why are they using me? Why not threaten my father directly?”
“Because it’s more efficient for them to threaten the family than the individuals themselves. It’s what they call the Paparazzi Effect. Celebrities often don’t care about the gossip rags talking shit and photographing them, but when their children get caught up in the storm, it’s a different story.”
“So they threaten me and get my father to do—or give them—something they want?” Elle snorted on a laugh, but the humor didn’t come close to reaching her eyes. “Then they’re going to be sorely disappointed when he tells them to take a leap. They’d be better off threatening James if they want my father to do something for them.”
Elle’s adamant belief in her words made Trey wish he’d punched her father when he’d had the chance. Christ. She was the man’s only daughter, his family. Trey didn’t even want to think about what she’d had to deal with growing up in the Monroe house for her to be so settled with the fact that her father didn’t really give a damn.
Elle cleared her throat, breaking the sudden awkwardness. “So what happens next?”
Stone joined the conversation. “Ideally, the authorities will find the person responsible for the threats, and once he’s taken into custody, the payday for our men in black doesn’t happen. They go away. You’re free and clear.”
“And the less-than-ideal scenario?”
“The more roundabout way is focusing on the bastard who keeps popping up like a damn rash,” Trey answered. “Once we get him and his friends into custody, we use them to get to whoever hired them.”
“But that’s if you get him.”
“He can’t hide forever, Elle,” Trey needed to reassure her. “Most mercenaries that pimp themselves out for business like this have some kind of military background, and I can tell you from tangoing with the bastard, he has some kind of training.”
“Oh, so I have a trained mercenary trying to hunt me down. That makes me feel so much better.”
“It also means that’s it’s just a matter of time before we find out who the hell he is, and once we do we’ll—”
“Put the information in the hands of the authorities and the security firm your father hired to let them deal with the takedown,” Stone interjected, shooting Trey a stern look before addressing Elle. “Our job is to ensure your safety, and we can’t do that until all people involved in the threats are apprehended.”
“And what happens if that doesn’t happen?” Elle asked, interpreting what Stone was telling her. “I can’t be expected to stay here forever. I mean, I know everything about my life is one big blank space right now, but I do still have one.”
* * *
After taking a much-neede
d nap, Elle checked in with Shay on Alpha’s secure line and felt marginally better knowing that she hadn’t ruined her best friend’s life. And Shay, despite the fact that she didn’t like being kept in the dark about what was happening, understood the need for it without any elaboration. That’s what made her so freaking wonderful. Everything was wonderful—Shay, the compound, her two new best friends…
And the drink in her hand.
Unlike the strong zap and forceful tingle that happened whenever she was in the presence of a certain green-eyed operative, the hum currently riding shotgun through her body was like something she’d feel rubbing against a person-sized balloon.
“You’re running low, love. Let me take care of that.” Charlie took Elle’s empty glass from her hands and replaced it with one filled to the top.
“I don’t think I should have any more.” Despite the words coming out of her mouth, Elle wrapped her fingers around the drink and took a long sip.
“Oh, please. If anyone deserves another bloody round, it’s you.” Charlie grabbed the blender and filled the two remaining glasses. She kept one for herself and passed the spare to Penny.
Actually, they’d bypassed the cute little daiquiri glasses an hour ago, opting for something that held a larger volume. The swapping of the drink-ware had roughly correlated to the time Elle started experiencing that pleasing little hum.
Elle let out a messy slurp that conjured three sets of giggle fits. “These things should be illegal, they’re so freaking delicious. If my head wasn’t slightly spinning right now, I wouldn’t even realize that they have alcohol in them.”
Penny looked to her friend with a spark of pride. “Charlie happens to be a mad genius at disguising the alcohol. He’ll deny it to the end of days, but even Trey got knackered after having only two of her drinks. Two. The guys didn’t let him live it down for months.”
“Do you know that I’ve never been drunk?” Elle divulged. Both women’s heads swiveled in her direction, their mouths dropping open in shock. “I know. I’m almost thirty years old and I’ve never had to hang my head over the toilet and puke up my insides.”
“Never?” Penny asked, incredulous.
“Never. Not even on my twenty-first birthday. I spent the night like any other birthday or holiday—wearing formal wear and dining with people about thirty years my senior—and older.”
“That’s…”
“Bloody sad,” Charlie finished, still looking horrified.
Elle pointed at them and corrected, “That was being a Monroe. My mom tried her best, but when she was diagnosed with cancer, priorities shifted—as they should’ve. She just didn’t have the strength to go toe-to-toe against the great Senator Monroe. What he said was law.”
Sympathy misted Penny’s eyes. “My mom passed away when I was young, too. Is that why you became a nurse?”
The flood of what-ifs that always came when Elle thought about her mother had her taking a cleansing breath. She nodded. “Cancer takes control of every corner of a person’s life. The nurses who took care of her toward the end helped give a little bit of that back to her—and I wasn’t too young to notice.”
“It takes a special person to be able to perform that kind of service.” Penny lifted her mug in the air. “To nurses—God’s angels here on earth.”
Charlie and Elle stared at Penny—and burst into laughter.
“God’s angels on earth?” Charlie snorted. “Where the bloody hell did you read that? A greeting card?”
“I may or may not have seen it on a bumper sticker, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true,” Penny defended herself, and ended up joining in their amusement.
“So it looks like we have a twenty-first birthday to celebrate…about nine years too late.” Charlie topped off Elle’s drink before she had a chance to decline. “I’m not even going to tell you what I did for mine. I don’t want to put you into shock.”
“Why? Were there police involved?” Penny teased. Charlie gave the redhead a coy smirk that made Penny choke on her drink. “Are you serious?”
Charlie avoided the question. “So you’ve never had a proper snog with the Porcelain Princess, and you’ve never experienced a true birthday celebration—including your twenty-first. Love, you can forget tonight’s previous goal of making you crawl to your bed. If I’ve done my job right, you won’t even be able to make it off this bloody couch.”
They tapped their mugs together in solidarity and tipped their heads back for another drink.
“Did you see the look on the guys’ faces when we showed up at the Room of Testosterone?” Penny giggled. “Oh my God. Especially Trey—it was freaking priceless. I seriously think they didn’t know what to do about their turf being invaded—even Stone looked a little out of sorts, and nothing rattles him.”
“Bloody Caveman Club,” Charlie muttered before lasering her gaze Elle’s way. “Don’t let the overabundance of testosterone distract you while you’re here in this hole in the ground. It’s bad enough that the redhead over there was a sellout.”
“You say that like I’m the only one.” Penny gave Charlie a pointed glance.
The female almost-operative pushed a pink-tinged lock of hair from her face and looked deceptively calm. “Maybe we should think about cutting you off, Penn. You’re starting to talk nonsense.”
“Yeah? Then why is one of my fears stepping into the training room to find you and Vince in a naked sparring match?”
“Navy? Not bloody likely.”
Penny’s grin widened when she shot a look to Elle. “She’d like to think it wasn’t so bloody likely, but I have a sense about these things. Just like I have one about you and Trey.”
Charlie flung herself on the couch, forcing Elle to clutch her drink tightly. “Talk about naked sparring matches. Panties are at serious risk of catching fire by being in the same room as you two.”
“Now I think you’ve had too much fruity goodness.” Elle tried to play off the too-on-target statement.
“You may wish that was the case, but we both know it’s not true.”
Elle shook her head and ignored the faint spin that followed. “Trey’s an intense guy. I’m sure he’s like that in every aspect of his life.”
“He is.” Charlie agreed with a nod. “They all are, and they have that brooding, protective thing down to a bloody art form, but Trey—compared to the others—has always been a bit more low-key. Lately, though, he’s rivaling Vince in the doom-and-brood department, and that’s saying something.”
The pull to spill her guts was strong, and got stronger the more the bottom of her mug came into view. This was what she’d always imagined it would be like to have girlfriends and slumber parties. Sure, she had Shay, but she’d come into her life when they’d both already been bogged down with responsibilities and professional futures.
Instead of puking up her emotions, Elle asked, “Do either of you have any suggestions on how to ignore the draw of the brood? Because I have to be honest, if I keep going in the direction I am now, I’m going to smack into it head-first…possibly naked and head-first.”
Penny gave her hand a sympathetic pat. “I know from personal experience that the more you try to convince yourself that you’re not drawn, or the more you try to keep your distance, the harder and deeper you’ll fall. Love is a fickle, fickle little bitch.”
Charlie choked on her drink, coughing until her face went crimson. “You said fickle little bitch.”
“I swear. I can swear. Why does everyone think I’m incapable of swearing?”
“Screaming ‘Oh, God’ when you and Rafe are shaking the compound walls during a vertical mambo doesn’t really count.”
Penny tossed a pillow into Charlie’s face, initiating another string of giggles. It took a few minutes for them to settle down, but then the root of Elle’s concern came roaring back.
Trey. Her. And that undeniable draw to have his hands on her at all times.
Penny angled sideways into the plush chair and draped her
legs over the arm. “In all honesty, Elle, you really could do a lot worse than Trey. He’s one of the good guys. He says what he means and doesn’t play into drama. He’s loyal. He’s steady.”
“So he’s not an overbearing alpha type?”
“Oh, no. He’s totally overbearing. Sometimes it’s so bad I call him a Helicopter Brother.” Penny laughed. “But I’m reserving hope that he’ll get that out of his system when he works off all the stored guilt. At least that’s what I tell myself so I don’t kill him with my bare hands.”
Guilt. She wondered what would make a guy like Trey feel remorse, but the conversation was already starting to feel a little gossipy. Lord knew she didn’t want anyone dissecting her feelings—past or present.
Elle felt the heat of someone’s scrutiny and looked up to see both women watching her carefully.
A smile bloomed on Penny’s face. “I think what Trey needs is someone determined enough to rip through that guilt and strong enough to throw a kink into his hovering. Once that happens, I think it would be happily ever after with church bells and a gaggle of kids.”
Charlie chuckled and nodded her agreement. “Couldn’t you imagine? Green-eyed, blonde-haired, with little dimpled, cherub cheeks? People would die from the level of cuteness.”
At the mention of children, a sumo wrestler could’ve sat on Elle’s chest and felt light. While Penny and Charlie exchanged laughs, Elle quickly sobered, and she didn’t blame her new friends. After all, it was the “normal” progression expected by the majority of the population—James and her father included.
It was almost ten months ago when she’d finally accepted that it wasn’t her normal progression. But it wasn’t until much more recently that she’d stopped blaming herself for it. Sometimes, she wondered if she even had.
A solid lump formed in Elle’s throat. She had to swallow a few times for it to go down. Trey’s happily ever after shouldn’t matter to her—but it did.
“Is that something Trey’s looking for?” She barely managed to keep her voice even. “The marriage and kids and dogs barking in the backyard?”
