“What? How do you know? When did this happen?” Treflee took a deep breath as she tried to digest the news.
“He texted her as we were coming down the mountain.” Brandy flicked a glance in Carrie’s direction. “Texted her!” She sounded amazed at Kane’s audacity.
“He’s coming to Maui.” Faye’s eyes were round.
Brandy ignored Faye’s interjection. “Upset her so much she just took off down the mountain. We had a hard time keeping up with her.”
At least Kane’s text explained why they’d all taken off and left Treflee to the mercy of a man in black spandex.
Carrie mutely stared at the table as if she weren’t the center of the conversation.
“When will he be here?” It seemed like a logical question.
Brandy nearly bit her head off for asking. “He didn’t say.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Treflee saw Ty approaching with her ice cream and a plated lunch.
Treflee reached across the table and squeezed her cousin’s hand. “Do you want to see him?”
Carrie shook her head, pulled her hand away, and burst into tears.
Treflee started so badly she nearly jumped out of her chair. She hadn’t seen Carrie cry since they were kids. The sight tugged at her heart. She shot her cousin a sympathetic look, feeling genuinely sorry for her, wanting to comfort her somehow, but having no idea how. “Don’t cry, Carrie. We’re here for you.”
Ty slid the plate in front of her—two mounds of rice, a scoop of macaroni salad, and chicken katsu. Then he turned right back around and darted off, taking her ice cream with him.
Judging by the way men reacted to tears, Treflee wondered if the most effective weapon on the battlefield wouldn’t be a great big female cry-fest.
She ignored the yummy-looking macaroni salad in front of her and addressed the group. “We’ll just have to protect Carrie and keep Kane away from her, then, won’t we?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
After lunch, Ty helped Keoni load the bikes into the trailer for the drive to Paia. Just as he loaded the last one in, his phone made the distinctive ping of an incoming encrypted text message from headquarters.
“Hey, dude, I’ll be right back. I gotta respond to this.”
“A la-dy?” Keoni strung the last word out suggestively.
Ty glanced at Tref.
“Ah, a one-woman man, huh?”
Ty grinned and shook his phone. “This is just business.” And he was off to go use his top-secret decoder ring to read his text. Playing spy was like the best boyhood game there was.
Ty walked away from the group and logged on to his secure phone. Emmett wanted him to call.
Ty made sure he couldn’t be overheard and dialed. “Hey, boss,” he said when Emmett picked up.
Emmett launched straight into business. “Got your message about the video feed and basement. We’re on it.
“The guy who attacked Treflee has no record. He’s an astronomy professor at the University of Hawaii. Regularly does research at the Haleakala Observatory as part of a grant. From time to time he works on the university’s joint ventures with the air force on Haleakala at AMOS.”
Ty sighed. So that’s where he came from—an observatory. Just like Ty’s contact. A shiver ran down his back.
“Our guy’s a Chinese immigrant. Married. Lives on the Big Island with a wife and two kids. Wife and he were naturalized ten years ago.”
“Who does he work for?” Ty tried to keep his end of the conversation cryptic, just in case.
“RIOT. The getaway driver was his wife.”
Good. We’ve rooted out two terrorists.
“We have them in custody.”
Heart pounding, Ty asked a question he knew Emmett would understand. “And me?”
Damn Tref again! If my cover is blown and I’m kicked off the mission … or worse, out of the Agency …
He owed it to George and his country to complete the mission. He had to stop RIOT from obtaining the Pinpoint Project. And he had to win Tref back. He couldn’t imagine life without her.
“You’re good. In the clear,” Emmett said. “We picked the mad biker and his getaway driver up at the bottom of the mountain before they could communicate with anyone. We checked their equipment. We’re confident they didn’t get any messages off.”
Excellent. Ty had really been sweating that one.
“We’ll interrogate them,” Emmett said. “But I doubt we’ll get much. They’re low-level operatives.”
Ty had a terrible thought. “Why did they go after Tref?”
“RIOT and their associates, the Fuk Ching, are under the misapprehension that your wife is our master spy.”
“What!” Ty cursed beneath his breath. “How in the hell did they get that idea?”
Emmett laughed. “Seems Treflee’s always where the action is. They were particularly suspicious when a woman staying next door to Sugar Love Plantation showed up at lunch with Hal.”
Ty cursed some more. He’d put Tref in even more danger.
“One more thing,” Emmett said. “Word on the street is some dumb, blond beach bum has been fawning all over Treflee. That would be you?”
Ty pictured Emmett swilling a whiskey and having a good laugh over that one with the boys at Langley. Ty scowled. “Yes.”
“Always working hard,” Emmett said. “Humint proof you’re making progress on Mission Reconciliation?”
“Absolutely,” Ty said. He refused to admit failure yet. He’d get there in the end.
Emmett gave him instructions. “Let them continue to think Treflee is the spy. The less they suspect you and Greg, the better.”
Ty argued with him. “Damn it, Emmett! No. This is too dangerous.”
“She’ll be fine. You’ve taught her how to handle herself in a pinch. And you’ll be there to bail her out. You’ll be her hero. Missions accomplished.”
Yeah, right. Ty pictured Emmett having a good laugh over that one, too. Somehow Ty couldn’t imagine Tref with hand to forehead, whispering, “My hero,” before falling into a grateful faint in his arms.
“Keep up the good work.” If Emmett had been there in person, he would have slapped Ty on the back.
Good thing Emmett couldn’t see him gritting his teeth.
“Hey, bro!” Keoni called to him. “Time to head out.”
“Duty calls,” Ty said.
“Go to it,” Emmett said.
Ty broke the secure connection and jogged to the van.
* * *
Treflee was just stepping up into the van when Ty caught her arm and pulled her aside.
“What was up inside?” he asked in a whisper.
“Man troubles,” Treflee replied. “Carrie’s ex wants her back.” She shot Ty a pointed look. “He’s coming to get her.”
“Coming to the island?” He sounded surprised.
She nodded. “You got it. And she’s scared.” Treflee sighed.
“Is he a danger?”
Treflee shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I had to swear we’ll protect her.”
Ty gave her a look that clearly left the impression he thought she wasn’t up to the task. “Good thing she has her other bridesmaids, the cop/soldier girls, with her.”
“What!” she hissed back at him. “I think I can take care of this. Who’s survived three attacks in three days, huh, master spy?”
He smiled at her, all flirt and beach bum, looking devilishly sexy in his suntanned skin, making it hard for her to stay mad at him and hang on to her hurt feelings. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “And who’s saved your delectable, beautiful hide each time?”
She frowned. “Okay, I’ll give you the lei guy, and the surfing incident. But I handled the biker on my own.”
He raised a brow.
“Okay, fine, you swatted the bee and pulled me out of the bushes, but I was already safe by then.” She lifted her chin.
“You didn’t happen to notice how he suddenly flinched and backed off right a
s he was about to stick that pump in your rear spokes? Why was that, I wonder?”
She stared at him. A horrible thought dawned on her. “You didn’t?”
He nodded.
“You shot at him?” She went cold. “You could have hit me!”
“But I didn’t, did I?” He looked too smug. “I need to get back to the range. My aim’s off. I just grazed his arm. I meant to take him out.”
She was certain he was trying to rattle her.
He took her arm. “Cheer up. I have some good news.”
Up close he smelled like yummy, yummy coconut oil, the kind that reminded her of a summer beach romance … and sex. Yes, sex on the beach was not just a drink to them.
Treflee stared deep into his eyes. She hoped he meant what she thought he did.
“We got them. Picked them up at the bottom of the mountain.”
She threw herself into his arms and hugged him. “I love you!”
Spontaneous hugging of the nearly ex is not the best move in a ditch-him-and-get-on-with-life plan. Even if you are eternally grateful to him. She realized a second too late what she’d just said and done.
She cleared her throat and pulled away. Well, at least she now knew why Bond got the girls. Relief is a powerful inhibition inhibitor. Or so it appeared.
Ty was staring deep into her eyes with his mesmerizing truth-serum stare.
Keep him guessing. A little mystery was good for a nearly defunct marriage.
She smiled up at him under her lashes. You know what? She could see herself enjoying flirting with him. He deserved to be tormented. Yeah, the old “flirt with him and leave him wondering if you meant it” trick. Just her style.
Laci stepped between them and up into the van.
Ty grinned at Treflee and leaned in to whisper, “Time to drop back into our cover characters.” He held out his arm for her to get on.
She took the only vacant seat. Ty plopped in beside her. Right beside her. So close the heat from his thigh next to hers made her flush. She turned sideways in the seat and leaned back against the window, savoring the moment. The bad guys were off the mean streets of Hawaii! It was a real Hawaii Five-O moment!
Keoni closed the doors, fired up the engine, and they were off, hopefully not on another adventure. The other girls were tired. They settled in and fell asleep just a few minutes out of the parking lot.
Treflee was too wound up. She studied Ty, trying to figure out how she could be so conflicted. Loving him, hating him. Wanting him. Wanting to hit him. Angry at him. Grateful to him. All in the space of a few minutes. It had all been so simple and wonderful in the beginning.
The first time she met Ty, she accidently shot him in the leg with her pink Pepperstriker 2000. Of course, you’re not supposed to shoot someone in the leg with pepper spray, even she knew that. The guy who sold it to her demonstrated specifically how to go for the face. He said the striker’s ergonomic grip was supposed to help her aim. And it might have, if Ty hadn’t sneaked up on her from out of nowhere.
She was in college, working late all alone on a project at a building on the edge of campus just after midnight. She should have called for an escort home. But she worked on projects late two or three nights a week and calling for an escort was a hassle. So she bought the pepper spray, determined to be independent.
She’d paused at the building exit, set her backpack on the floor and kneeled beside it to dig out the spray before heading out into the dark night. She had it in her hand, with her finger on the trigger, when a pair of legs clad in jeans and topped off with a pair of Vans appeared before her simply out of nowhere. She swore she hadn’t heard anyone approach.
“Hey,” a deep, sexy voice said to her.
She was startled, panicked, and pulled the trigger, shooting spray right into his shin. Which was when they both found out that yes, pepper spray can penetrate denim.
She started coughing from the residual fumes. Her eyes watered. Her heart raced. She looked up into the coughing, tear-streaked face of the most handsome guy she’d ever seen, and her breath caught. Even with red, watery eyes he was gorgeous. And he was laughing as he tried not to wince from the pain in his leg.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She automatically reached out to brush his pants off with her hand.
“Don’t touch my leg!” He leaned down and grabbed her wrist with a strong, warm hand, stopping her just in time. “It’s practically lethal right now. Nice to meet you, too. I’m Ty.” He gave her a hand up. “Never had a girl make me so hot in just a few seconds.”
She blushed. He was joking, referring to the pepper spray, of course, but somehow he made her feel beautiful all the same.
“I’m Treflee.”
“Pretty name.” He coughed again. “Got any baby shampoo on you, Treflee?”
She stared at him and blinked, trying to see past the tears streaming down her face. Her mascara was probably running. Looking at this hot guy, she was suddenly worried about how she looked, which was probably a wreck. “Baby shampoo? Is that a non sequitur to keep me off balance? Or do you have a point?”
“Baby shampoo helps wash the pepper spray away and stop the burn.” He covered his mouth with his arm and coughed into it.
“Sorry!” She couldn’t stop apologizing. She felt really bad. He was being so stoic and understanding. “I don’t have any on me.”
She looked at his jeans again and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. “My roommate might have some back at the apartment.” Which was the truth. Her roommate used it because she thought it was gentle on her hair.
He arched a brow. She felt mortified. She hadn’t meant to seem brazen, as though she were inviting him home after she’d just met and attacked him. She was simply trying to help.
“We could cut the pants leg off? If we had scissors.” She winced and looked apologetic. She didn’t have scissors, either. “Rip it off with brute strength?”
He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Trying to rip my pants off already?” Beneath the watery tears, his eyes danced with amusement. He grinned.
She blushed. “What’s the alternative? Take your jeans off and walk around campus in your boxers?”
“So you think I’m a boxers guy?”
“I was too polite to say tighty-whities.”
He laughed and broke out coughing again. When he gained control he said, “Why don’t I just wait forty-five to fifty minutes for the effects to wear off and the burning sensation to start to fade.” He nodded toward her backpack. “Get your stuff. I’ll walk you home.”
She hesitated.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to attack you. If I was, I would have taken you up on the offer to remove my pants. Plus I know you have a pepper gun on you.”
“It only had one shot.”
He laughed. “Probably shouldn’t have told me that.”
“Yeah.” She smiled. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Want to sit with me and have a coffee while we wait an hour and find out? I know a great all-night diner.”
“Yeah,” she said, feeling unaccountably giddy for having just shot a very handsome someone.
He picked up her backpack, tossed it over his shoulder, winced, held his pants leg away from his skin, and opened the door for her with his shoulder.
Then they went to have coffee and talked until three in the morning. He kissed her when he dropped her off at her campus apartment. Ty was the first person who’d made her smile, really smile, since her dad had died from cancer the month before.
The next time she saw Ty, he gave her the new, improved Pepperstriker 3000, which came equipped with a safety lock, and promised her lessons on how to use it.
To this day, he still didn’t trust her with a firearm. Looking back, she realized she’d loved him since that first time she met him. No one else had ever made her feel so safe, or so happy and loved.
How had things gone so wrong?
Ty raised a brow and wiped his chin with his shoulder. �
��Do I have something on my face?”
His question brought her back to the present. “Just looking at you.” She sounded too breathless and infatuated for Treflee the wife. But just right for a woman supposedly infatuated and wanting a fling with a hot tour guide. “You’re incredibly easy on the eyes.”
Ty had always told her the easiest and most believable lies began with the truth. She smiled and looked down. “I bet all the girls tell you that.”
By which she meant—in code-speak—were there more girls?
He seemed to realize her intention. He tipped her chin up and stared into her eyes. “There’s only one girl’s opinion that’s ever mattered.”
Her heart fluttered. She sighed, wishing it were true. Or maybe it was true, just not true enough. “When this … fling … is over, we … I … have to go back to real life.” She pulled her feet up on the seat and curled up, wrapping her arms around her knees.
“What’s wrong with your real life?”
She tilted her head, staying in character. “Surfer and psychologist?”
“Being out in the surf gives you perspective, you know?”
She didn’t, but she didn’t call him on it, either.
“You didn’t answer my question.” He reached over and disentangled one of her legs, pulling her foot to rest on his thigh.
He untied her shoe. Took it and her sock off and tossed them on the floor.
She wiggled her toes and sighed. It felt so good to be barefoot. Ty knew she hated wearing shoes.
He squeezed her foot, just like he had a hundred times before after she’d had a long day at work, just in the way that made her go weak in the knees and released every ounce of tension in her body. He squeezed it hard and stroked the inside of her arch with his thumb.
That was too much, too intimate. From the way he was looking at her, he knew it, too. She tried to pull away. “Someone could wake up and see us,” she whispered.
He mouthed the word “so?” as he held on tight.
It was just like Ty not to care. And no doubt he was fully aware and on alert to the state of the others—asleep, or awake and watching and listening.
The Spy Who Left Me: An Agent Ex Novel Page 17
