by Marie Harte
“Go take a break from babysitting,” she said. “And sweetums, we’re still not dating.” She winked then walked away.
Vi should have known better than to put herself out there. Men were the worst, promising forever and not meaning a word of it. She’d watched her father screw around for years, no one woman ever good enough for him. For a time, she’d witnessed Angel make bad choice after bad choice. Her own forays into sexual relationships were slim to none. Sure, she loved sex, but letting herself get intimate and vulnerable was tough.
She’d stuck with a few one-night stands, turning them into two or three nights, but never more than that. She always used protection, regardless of her birth control, because she didn’t trust her partners not to lie about sexually transmitted diseases. And she always, always, scoped her sexual targets before aiming true.
But with Hammer, she’d been stupid and taken the ultimate plunge. She felt like she knew him, or at least, she liked what she knew of him, and she’d been as intimate as a woman could get with a man, taking him inside her, skin to skin.
She’d engaged her emotions. Not just sharing her body, but her heart and mind as well.
And what did she get for it?
“Tell me again,” Noel said. “Where is he?”
“The idiot left me with Gunnar and hasn’t come back. That was three hours ago! I just got a text telling me he’s on his way to his contact to get information. He said he’ll be back by Thursday latest.” Which was four days away.
She wanted to be angrier, but she kept feeling hurt. And that made no sense. Vi didn’t do love. She barely did like. Hammer could do whatever the hell he wanted away from her. They hadn’t committed to exclusive sex or dating or anything. And if she happened to catch him with another woman, she absolutely refused to put a bullet in said woman’s brain. Professionals didn’t do that, revert to personal dramatics during a mission.
But…she’d started to trust him, and he’d ruined it. For fuck’s sake, my eyes are burning. Damn him. She blinked the sting away, watching Gunnar crawl around and play with his toys.
“Violet, did you hear what I said?” Noel asked.
She got herself under control and gave Noel an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Gunnar is just too cute.”
“Right.” His gaze narrowed. “Hammer didn’t tell me or Deacon he was leaving. He texted you though. No word of where he might have gone? What info he’s trying to get for us? I thought we’d have a little more time to plan before he just took off.”
“No.” She hadn’t planned to use the tracker she’d planted on his go-bag in the hotel, but Hammer had forced her to treat him like a contract. So be it. “I have a few things to take care of in town. Mind if I borrow your car?”
“Go ahead.” He grabbed her a set of keys. She was nearly out the door before he said, “And when you see Hammer, give him a piece of my mind.”
She found him five hours later, the private plane she’d chartered taking her to the area of Birch Bay in Northern Washington, only fifteen minutes to the Canadian border. She rented a car and drove to a parcel of land bordering the Point Whitehorn Marine Reserve. Isolated and hidden, nestled in the wood line, the house she eventually came to stunned her.
Marveling at its size and views, she stood down the hill off the driveway, conscious of the hidden cameras her tech had spotted right away. The high bank waterfront property had amazing views of the San Juan Islands and Puget Sound. She wondered who the hell Hammer intended to see up here. Bill Gates?
Following his tracker on her phone, she tried to remain to the shadows as the day turned to evening. She found him standing outside on the massive stone patio overlooking the water and the islands. He paced, looking agitated, and so handsome she wanted to slug him.
“You can’t keep me in the dark. I have a right to know,” he growled.
Another body came into view, this man a slightly older version of Hammer. Nearly identical in appearance, this older version of her—lover? bedtime buddy? several-night-stand?—had a dark five o’clock shadow and longer, almost unkept hair that blew in the breeze. He wore faded jeans and a dark jacket and stood with his hands tucked in his jacket pockets.
Hold on. I though Hammer said his family was dead?
“You have no right to the info I’m withholding,” the older man said, his voice like the low growl of a wolf. “So quit telling me to go fuck myself and come on in for some homemade chili.”
“You’re kidding me. You have information that’s vital to not only my welfare, but to that of two other men, women, and a kid! Who’s not mine by the way. I told you that.”
“Too bad.”
“Christ,” Hammer snarled as he paced around his relative. “Just get me the DNA samples so I can rule out the ones on my list. And don’t give me more shit about Jonas Hood. No body, no proof of death; we assume he’s alive. You of all people should know that.”
The older man sighed. “You are seriously giving me a headache. Now why don’t you save some of that anger for your friend hiding in the bushes. Bring her in and we’ll talk about nicer things.”
Hammer froze.
Vi swore under her breath.
“She?” Hammer zeroed in on her uncannily fast. Before she’d reached him, he stood in front of her. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice rose in volume. “You tracked me?”
Before she could answer, he yanked her into a hug and planted a brutal kiss on her mouth. Then he stomped back up the steps into the house with an “Aren’t you coming?” snarled at her over his shoulder.
Vi hurried to follow him, bemused at her reception.
She tried not to goggle at the opulence of the estate. And it was an estate—there was no other word to call it. The house was more like a mansion, and the stone patio was only the icing on the cake of the designer home within.
She didn’t know a lot about home renovation, but she knew quality. From the hardwood floors to the marble countertops, crystal chandeliers, and stonework around a massive fireplace, the house had class. Heck, the living room was large enough to house half of Noel’s first floor.
At the long wooden dining table off the kitchen, which had a rustic charm and no doubt cost a bazillion dollars, she sat across from Hammer on a cushioned wooden bench and dropped her pack to the floor.
“Where’d you park?” the other man asked, his smile shocking on an older Hammer’s face.
“Uh, a few meters from the driveway, hidden along the side of the road.”
“Smart. Just out of reach of my cameras. But my security spotted you the second you walked near the drive. Heat sensors.”
“Ah.” She looked across at a still seething Hammer.
The older man cleared his throat.
“Yes?” Hammer asked, exceedingly polite.
“You going to introduce me or what?”
Vi chuckled. “Geez, you guys even have the same voice inflections.”
Hammer wiped a hand over his face, and the older man laughed.
With infinite politeness, Hammer said, “Joe Montgomery, this is a friend of mine. Violet Leon. Vi, my uncle.”
She shook the big man’s hand, conscious of the callused palm gripping hers. Whatever this man did for a living, it wasn’t sitting behind a desk. “Hello, Mr. Montgomery.”
The man’s eyes twinkled. “Call me Joe.”
Joe, as in, Big Joe?
Hammer sighed. “Before you go putting two and two together and getting seven, the name is a coincidence. Nothing more.”
“Ah, okay.”
“What’s that?” Joe asked.
“Nothing to be worried about, Joe.”
“Nothing?” Vi asked. “Sounded like something out there. Like you’re asking him for information about Jonas Hood.”
Hammer grimaced.
His uncle did the same, and it was almost comical. “Didn’t I tell you to keep away from him?”
“What is going on?” Vi demanded to know.
“Hell. My uncle knows p
eople at the Business, and he used to work for the CIA a long time ago. Or so he says. ‘Not so long’ with Joe could be as long as five minutes ago.” Hammer glowered at the man.
“Now, now.” He patted Hammer on the shoulder with a blow hard enough to leave Vi gasping for breath. Hammer just continued to project menace. “Let’s hold off on the interrogation. I’m hungry.”
“Me too,” Hammer admitted.
Vi grinned, suddenly ravenous. “He’s always hungry,” she said to his uncle. “But I could eat.”
“Terrific.” Joe beamed. “You two sit right there. Chili and corn muffins coming up. Homemade too.”
Hammer waited until his uncle left before lighting into Vi. “What the hell were you thinking planting a tracker on me? I thought I could trust you.”
“Are you kidding me? You give me a line like” —she deepened her voice to mimic Hammer’s— “‘I want you, Vi. Only you.’ Then you take off on me, no word but a shitty little three-line text? Coward.”
His eyes darkened. “You tracked me.”
“You left me,” she shot back, then stopped that train before it derailed. “I mean, no word about going off on your own to further the investigation? You’re an ass.”
But the damage had been done.
He looked first shocked, then delighted. “So you were pissed because you thought I deserted you? Reeaally.” He rested his elbows on the table and folded his fingers together, resting his chin on his hands. “Did you cry for me? Sing a sad song? A ballad maybe?”
She would have stabbed him if his uncle hadn’t returned, carrying a large tray of food.
“There’s a ton more if you’re hungry.” Joe set bowls of chili in front of them. He planted a large bowl of cornbread muffins in the center of the table, as well as a pitcher of iced tea and another of water, then handed them each a glass and took a seat between them both at the head of the table. “I like to cook in big batches.”
“Thank you so much.” Vi inhaled the delectable scent of a homemade meal and poured herself water. “This smells wonderful.”
“Yeah, thanks.” Hammer didn’t sound grateful.
“Does anyone else stay with you? This place looks huge.” She dipped into her food after Hammer started wolfing down his bowl. “Oh man, this is amazing.”
Joe flushed. “Thanks. I try. And no, it’s just me in the place. I look after it for the owner. He’s almost never here, and I like my privacy, so I don’t have guests often.”
“Because he has no friends,” Hammer added in between bites.
Joe glared. “Jackass.”
“A chip off the old block,” Hammer returned, his expression as fierce.
Vi started laughing, and both men swung surprised glances her way. “Oh my gosh. It’s like you’re twins.”
Hammer looked pained. “Vi, stop.”
“That bad, eh?” Joe’s stare swung from her to Hammer, and he laughed.
“Yes. You sure you’re just his uncle?”
Joe nodded. A hint of sadness filled his eyes before he smiled. “My brother and I were nearly identical despite being born five years apart. Must be why Monty’s so good looking.”
She almost choked on her bite of cornbread. “Monty?” Hammer’s misery was so apparent she cried laughing. “Monty!”
“You just had to go there,” he said to his uncle.
“What?” Joe asked, with that fake innocent smile she never believed when Hammer used it. “I’ve always called you Little Monty. Now just Monty since you’re not so little. Almost as tall as me, I suppose.”
Hammer gave him a smug smile. “I’m six-five. You have to round up to hit that.”
“Oh, you’re a half inch taller than me. Wow. Got me there.”
They continued to bicker while Vi watched and ate, thoroughly entertained. The wind whipped outside, rushing against the glass windowpanes. As the sun set, warm reds and yellows blending into the softer purples and indigos of evening, she realized that for the first time in a long time, she felt safe…and happy.
Eleven
Hammer couldn’t believe Vi had had the nerve to put a tracker on him. After he finished dinner, he planned to go through his clothes and go-bag to find and eliminate the tech keeping an eye on him. Man, he’d let her get the better of him again.
He smothered the smile that threatened to blossom, not wanting to encourage her, and watched her charming his uncle. Friggin’ Joe just had to bring up his nickname. Hammer didn’t mind being called Monty by family. But outside of Joe, he was Hammer. A tough name for a tough guy. Not something prissy like “Monty.” Hell, growing up, the kids had made fun of him before he’d grown into his big feet. Being mocked by those with conniving expressions, tapping their steepled fingers together and muttering “Ex-cell-ent” in a cartoony voice, courtesy of that animated show The Simpsons, had grown old, fast.
His father and uncle had thought it hilarious, but his mother had been on his side, even if she would smile a lot while defending him.
He wondered what Kerrigan Montgomery would have made of Violet, sitting pretty as a picture, acting so innocent. Innocent? Yeah, right. And Joe was letting her. The bastard.
Joe slipped into a pause in the conversation about her travel to Birch Bay, “So, Violet, are you and Monty close friends?”
She paused. “Well, yes. I think you can say that.” She shot Hammer a challenging grin.
“Oh, we’re like two peas in a pod,” he said in his best imitation of a character from Mayberry.
“Idiot,” she grumbled at him.
“Stalker,” he grumbled back.
Joe just smiled and continued to eat.
“What brings you so far north, Violet?” Joe asked after a small silence, during which they’d polished off the muffins.
“Your nephew left me hanging with a baby. No word of goodbye. He just took off.”
Joe started choking. Hammer pounded him on the back and waited for his uncle to stop coughing.
“Wait,” Joe managed. “You’re pregnant?”
Vi frowned. “Huh? Oh, no. The baby belongs to friends of ours.” She flushed, and Hammer found her embarrassment adorable. That she could go from cute to tough-as-nails in killing mode, in the blink of an eye, only made him like her more.
God, she was right. He was an idiot.
“Too bad.” Joe slapped Hammer on the shoulder. “This one needs a good woman to settle him down.”
“He needs a whip and chains to settle him down. A woman shouldn’t be subjected to ‘this one’s’ poor sense of humor.” She glared at Hammer.
Joe laughed, as if she’d said something hilarious. “Now I can tell you’re good friends.”
She gave Hammer a sweet smile. “Oh, we’re friendly. I don’t know what I want only you means to most men, but Hammer told me I’m it for him. It’s a lot of pressure considering we just started dating, but I know love can happen fast for some people.”
She had to be feeling superior, giving Hammer that smug look. She had no idea the grave she’d started digging for herself with his uncle.
“Well, I for one am glad to hear it.” Joe cleared his bowl. “Anyone for seconds?”
“I’ll get it Uncle Joe.” Hammer stood. “Vi, you want more?”
“No thanks.”
“Okay. You done?”
She nodded, and he took her bowl to the dishwasher.
His uncle stared at him.
“What now?” Hammer growled.
“Nothing, nothing.” Joe made more annoying small talk, learning about Vi through her lies, most likely. Though Hammer had to wonder what she’d said that might be true.
While he cleaned up the kitchen, he saw his uncle charm Vi out of some useful information. She liked dogs better than cats but wasn’t around the house enough to have a pet. She didn’t mind the thought of children but wanted to live more of her life before having them—translation, killing people for a living did not make for safe motherly mode. She had no respect for people that didn’t take a sta
nd, and she wasn’t a fan of organized religion though she respected everyone’s right to worship, or not, as they chose.
“Heck, Joe. Why not ask her what her thoughts on abortion and politics are? I don’t think you covered those.” He shook his head.
Did his uncle know who she was? He had to, didn’t he? Joe knew everything about everyone. So why wouldn’t he share the information he clearly had on Jonas Hood?
“Now, Monty. You know you never discuss politics or religion during dinner. Bad for digestion.” Joe winked.
Vi blushed, and Hammer didn’t like her enjoying his uncle so much. Some women liked older men. Did Vi?
He watched her watching his uncle and returned to the table. “I’m done. Why don’t I give Vi the grand tour? We’ll be back in a bit.” He noticed she reluctantly rose with her bag, but she didn’t protest leaving with him.
His uncle nodded, and Hammer swore he saw mirth in Joe’s dark brown eyes. “Sure, thing. Why not put her in the room next to yours? It’s empty.” They were all empty. The brothers and sisters he should have had never materialized. And then it was too late.
“That’ll work.” His room sat in another wing than his uncle’s. Perfect.
The minute they turned out of the living area and started up the stairs, Vi grabbed him by the hand and practically raced up to the landing. Once away from his uncle, she yanked him with her into a nearby room and shut the door behind them.
“You…” She looked around her in awe. “Where are we?”
He sighed. “I really was going to give you the tour before we discussed you following me. This, Violet, is the rose room. It’s a modified parlor for the ladies.” He snorted. “There’s a liquor cabinet behind the bar that has anything you could ever need, a pool table and card table over there, as you can see. And this tiny library with the settee and comfy reading chair for your pleasure.”
“I could die in here.” She tested out the settee and chair, then settled back in the settee. “This is incredible. Who owns this house?”
