by Beth Rhodes
“You could be part of a team. A part of the Hawkins family.”
Her pulse pounded. He was dangling sweet morsels in front of her, dreams she’d had her whole life—to be a part of a family, to trust those around her.
“Working with Hawk is not like working for the government. I promise you.”
“I have to think.” In her head, he’d made it to second base. No one else had gotten that far. It was like he’d studied her, knew her deepest secrets and dreams.
“Take some time.” He waved the waitress over. “Pen?”
She handed him a pen.
“Thanks, Sally.” Then he turned over the card and wrote. “That’s my cell number. Call anytime.” He gave Emily a pointed look. “Any.”
He handed the pen back, then opened his wallet and paid for dinner.
“Now.” He scooted toward her.
Emily, her heart still pounding, came to her senses. He was a little like a train, and she hurried out of his way, sliding out of the booth.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, gave a little squeeze, and smiled. “Talk to you later. Dinner was great, Sally. Tell the cook.”
Emily’s legs gave out, and she sat back down on the edge of the seat.
Temptation had a name, and it was John.
Damn it.
Chapter Three
“That’s a yummy little dinner date you had there, Miss Emily,” Sally commented on her way to a table in the back, a grin on her face.
Emily glanced up to smile at her friend. “Isn’t a guy supposed to be more than his looks?”
“Not when he looks like that.” Sally snickered and moved off to another table. Emily sat for a second, before she knew what she had to do, and grabbed her purse.
A quick twenty minutes later, she took the familiar private road toward the water.
Being in a sweet town like Harbor View, where she’d spent her short summer vacations as a kid, was only one of the reasons she’d come back to this corner of the world. Eddie Keith was the other reason.
She parked behind his old, rusty 1950s Chevy truck. It was late, but he’d be up. As long as she’d known him, he slept during the day and worked through the night. She pounded on the door before opening it. “Eddie?”
“Back here, love.” His gravelly voice drifted out through the door at the back of the house. She made her way through the living room to the kitchen and then stopped in the entrance to his office. Actually the old summer porch, which he’d weatherized. Air conditioning for the summer, heat in the winter.
File cabinets lined one wall. Computers lined the other, from tabletop to ceiling. Straight ahead through a picture window was a perfect view of the Atlantic Ocean. She took a deep breath, all the uncertainty and tension leaving her body.
“You wouldn’t miss it if you came down more often,” Eddie said, obviously picking up on her vibes. He picked up his cane and walked up to her with a discerning gleam in his eye. “Don’t talk to me about how busy you are with that coffee and donut joint, either.”
Emily stepped into his embrace, kissing his cheek before giving the old man a hug. “Fine. I won’t. It’s a café, by the way. We sell pastries, not donuts.”
He scoffed. “Sounds too stuck up for you and me.”
She didn’t call him on his hypocrisy. Twice in the last week he’d been to town and stopped for one of their éclairs and a latte.
She gave his other cheek an affectionate pat. “I need to use your computer. Do you mind?”
“My computer.” Eddie shuffled to the table and kicked one of the stools with wheels in her direction. “Two years off the radar, and all of a sudden, you want access to a computer that can dump you into some of the tightest security in the nation? What are you up to?”
“Nothing that important. I’m looking for more information on a company out of Raleigh—”
“Hawk Elite Security,” he finished for her.
She shook her head in disbelief. Still, she wasn’t surprised. For a man in his late sixties, he was in touch and unstoppable when it came to intelligence and pretty much everything that was going on inside, outside, and upside down. She hadn’t quite figured out if it was that he knew everyone. Or if he was…omnipotent.
“There’s a man in town trying to recruit me to come work for them. His name is John.” She hesitated. “Vega. Not too pushy. What do you know about him?”
Eddie stared.
She squirmed. “What?”
“John Vega is a good-looking guy.”
“Who cares?” Emily scowled at him even as her heart gave a suspicious leap. “So, you do know him?”
“He also comes from a big family. Lots of siblings. And his parents are good people.”
“Eddie, stop being passive. Tell me something I don’t know.”
He chuckled. “You’re the one who hesitated.”
“Okay,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air. “I hesitated. So what? He charmed me. That doesn’t mean I’m going to run off with him in order to fulfill your dream of having grandkids to fuss over.”
A blush rose to his cheeks. He rubbed a hand across his face with a sigh. “I want you to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
“Alone? No family—”
“I have no family.”
Eddie lifted a brow.
“My dad doesn’t count.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Look, I see what you’re trying to do. Really. I get it. Maybe to you or anyone normal, my life might seem empty. But I’m actually enjoying being tied to Harbor View, tied to a job. I don’t need—”
“A husband? Kids?”
She shook her head. “This isn’t the fifties, Eddie. I don’t need those things to be happy.”
“Do you remember those summers with your mom?”
Emily crossed to the old glider swing in the corner and sat, curling her legs under her. “Sure.”
“I remember a girl who talked about white picket fences and a girl who carried her little doll around, taking care of it as if it were real.”
She scowled. “Those days were over long before I even started shooting in college.”
“Times change, though. You’re not shooting—professionally,” he added, “and maybe it’s time to figure out where your life is going.”
“Taking a job with Hawk Elite isn’t exactly going to set me on the road to picket fences and happily-ever-afters.” Exasperation rushed through her.
Eddie came over and stood over her. He reached out a hand to touch her head. It made her hold her breath when he did that, as if he was saying some kind of blessing over her.
“You started something in college as a sharpshooter. It’s time to finish it the way it was meant to be finished.”
“You mean killing a child wasn’t enough?” Her voice broke even as she scowled.
Because he was right. She’d left so much undone. She lied to herself, saying she was happy and she’d moved on. She bit at her lip, blinking off tears.
“Go, Em. Do a job or two. It doesn’t have to be permanent. Put your career to rest. And come back stronger—come back to Harbor View because you want to be here, not because you’re hiding.”
She sniffed. “You trust Vega?”
“Let me show you.” Turning his television remote sideways, Eddie flipped it open to reveal a keyboard, and typed in the man’s name with his thumbs.
“Hey, cool. That’s new.”
“I’ve been messing with this little gadget for a while.” He held it up for her to see. “Handy, don’t you think? I don’t get up and down as easily with my knee. I like to stand, keep my blood moving.”
“You know, you could be rich with an invention like that.”
“I am rich, my dear. Rich in things not of this world.” He pointed up with a shake of his finger then targeted her. “Love made me rich. Besides,” he said with a sly grin. “It was already invented.”
She looked around at his considerable collection of electronics. He liked to collect things and ra
rely bought new. “I know, I know. You had Gloria for sixty years. Even though you never had any kids, your life was filled with blessings. I only mean you could take a vacation or… Oh, never mind,” she finished with a wave of her hand. He was more stuck in his ways than she.
“Now, if I was on vacation, where the hell would you be right now, missy?”
“Point taken.” Emily nodded to the screen. “So what does the great computer god say about Hawk Elite?”
Eddie scrolled through a few more screens and compiled several windows on the left before getting started. “A family-run business for over ten years. Most of the team is former military. Vega was Army, a medic who went on to get his nursing degree. Four years.”
“Hmm. Stop trying to impress me.”
Eddie snickered. “Tancredo Byrnes was marine, like Hawk. And the third major player is Jamie Nash, an older guy who came through the military before Hawk.” He gave her a look, one she recognized. “Hawk Elite is one of the best companies I’ve ever worked with.”
“You’ve worked with them?” She stood and moved closer to the screen as she stuffed her hands in her pockets. The men were so typical of the military she’d grown up with, the men she’d worked with two short years ago. Yet at the same time, they weren’t. Without the uniforms, she found they reminded her more of an offbeat group of friends.
Which was ridiculous, seeing as she was looking at lifeless photos.
He shrugged. “They got a sharp young man on the team, a computer expert—Malcolm Daniels. He can get into any system and has created some of the best security software I’ve seen on the market—and off the market.” His eyes lit up as he looked at her. “Want me to introduce you?”
“No,” she said, in the purest form of horrific reaction, and then laughed. “Geez, Eddie. No, thank you.”
“So you’ll go back?” The worry in his voice made her realize. Maybe she hadn’t been hiding her fear and discontent too well.
“Hard to say no to the Boy Scout.”
With a harrumph, Eddie scratched his head. “You going to stay here tonight?”
She shook her head. “I should head home. I didn’t bring my bag.”
“You know who to call if you have any trouble.”
“Thanks, Eddie.”
At the sound of his alarm, John stretched, only to remember he was sitting in his car. He shifted uncomfortably, but his legs were stuck under the dash, bent at a funny angle, and his shoulder was sore where it was pressed into the seat back.
He groaned in self-reprimand. “You dumbass.”
He was surprised no one had thrown his butt in jail. All night outside a single woman’s apartment. When his phone rang to an unidentified DC cell number, he picked it up. “Yeah.”
“Pancakes or toast?”
Frowning, he ran his fingers through his hair. “Pancakes.” Then he glanced up through the windshield to her door above the shop. “Emily?”
“Yeah, sleeping beauty. Come on up.” She waved, with a little smirk on her face, and disappeared back inside.
Without any hesitation, he grabbed his pack from the back seat, crossed the road, and hurried upstairs. After knocking once, he opened the door. “Hello?”
Hardwood floors of old pine welcomed him to her home. The wood with that rich, dark hue left by stain and age rose up the wall of the small area and ended at the square panes of cut glass at the top. A slightly yellowed globe light fixture added to the 1940s charm. A row of wrought iron hooks lined the wall to the side, and he imagined in the winter they held jackets and scarfs. Another door, this one with glass panels, opened into the living room. Striped wallpaper covered the bottom half of the room, and a neutral beige covered the top. Even her furniture was slightly dated to the early twentieth century.
He stood there for a minute, taking it in, absorbing the ambiance. “My sister Sharon would love this place.”
It was like stepping back in time…
Except for the large array of computer gear that sat in the corner of the living room. A desktop, two laptops, speakers and webcams, hard drives of all shapes and sizes.
“She likes vintage?”
He really looked at her now. And though he had no idea when she got home last night—dumbass—she looked rested and at ease. Almost happy.
“She’s a history professor at New York University.”
“That makes more sense.”
“What?”
“You’re more than brawn.”
“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Why? Are you going with dumb jock here or something?”
She blushed a little. “Sorry, and if it helps, it didn’t fit, even if you are well muscled.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Come on. Breakfast.” She waved him over to the small dining room where she had a spread of food, including pancakes, fruit, scrambled eggs.
“Wow. Did you do this for me?”
Emily bit at her lip and shrugged then cleared her throat. “Well, uh.” She chuckled. “I figured I should get on your good side, since you’d be the one introducing me to my new boss.”
John’s mouth fell open. His arms hung limply at his sides as shock filled him. “Wait, what?”
“I’m going to take you up on your offer.”
“You are?”
She nodded.
“Just like that?”
“Do you want me to change my—”
“No,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “Why?”
“For someone who was so gung-ho about wanting me on the team, you’re acting awful suspicious.”
He shook his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. None of my business…”
“But…”
“But I’m curious. Yesterday, you said no before I even mentioned the job. So, what happened to make you say yes?”
Emily poured a cup of coffee and sat at the table. John followed suit. She served up the eggs, grabbed two pancakes, and passed him the plate. When she’d poured syrup on her short stack, she set the bottle on the table and looked at him as if thinking.
“Truthfully?”
“Naturally,” he replied.
“Unfinished business.”
Chapter Four
Raleigh, North Carolina
One Week Later
“You seem nervous. What’s up?” John eyed Marcus as he leaned back in the booth at the local pub down the block from headquarters and sipped his cold beer. He closed his eyes on a moan. “Oh, thank you, Jesus.”
Marcus chuckled, ignoring the question. “Long week of training the hot new girl putting you on edge, Father John?”
John rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”
But the truth was that it did have him on edge. She’d quietly made herself a part of the everyday life, the coming and going. Like a fricking silent wraith. She didn’t talk much—to anyone. But occasionally, he’d catch her in a one-on-one with a team member, chatting. She liked to talk guns with the guys. And with the other women, she’d talk about getting on the range and actually shooting. Always small talk about what she knew best.
He’d seen her with Marie and Stacy, and even Moira Hawkins, giving pointers at the shooting range.
She’d laugh, too. She really was happy with a gun in her hands.
“So, how long do you think she’ll stick around?”
John shrugged. “Don’t know.”
She’d said “unfinished business,” and he had an idea that meant this assignment was temporary. For whatever reason—and maybe it wasn’t completely unfounded—she blamed herself for what had happened two years ago. Hidden footage of the meeting that day had surfaced in the last year. He’d watched, too, like every other curious social media troll.
“Hey, guys,” Emily said, as if his thoughts had conjured her into existence.
John stood so quickly his chair tipped back. He reached for it and caught it. “Emily. Hi. How are you?”
Craig Wilder, who’d been sitting to John’s left—quiet as can be—rose as well, and he offered
his chair. “Would you like to sit with us?”
She looked a little uncertain. “Oh, no. I’m only here for a quick dinner and then I’ve got…stuff to do.”
“Please,” John said, pulling back on Craig’s chair. Craig turned around to grab a chair from an empty table. “We’re just unwinding.”
“I don’t want to intrude on—”
“You’re not intruding sweetheart,” Marcus said, as he tipped his chair back and eyed her. And in normal circumstances, John might not have noticed. Instead, he wanted to kick the chair out from under Marcus and throw him on his ass.
“Okay, for a little while, I guess.” She took the seat offered and hooked a little purse to the back of her chair.
John sat back down, his heart pounding a little harder than normal. “So, how was your first week?”
She licked her lips. Nerves, he assumed. But she sat up straighter and finally looked him in the eye. “It wasn’t what I expected. I guess I was thinking it would be busier.”
“We have some downtime in the year when we focus on training and recruiting.”
“Ah, hence me.” She laughed and, when the waiter came around, ordered a drink and food.
The table was quiet, as if the three of them had never had a girl join them for dinner. “It’s not usually this awkward silence.” John finished off his beer and set the bottle on the table.
“It’s okay. I’m used to it.”
Marcus leaned in. “So, how many people have you killed?”
John used a foot and shoved his buddy’s chair. “Shut up, Marcus, or you’ll be my first.”
Emily’s brow lifted.
“I’m sorry, Emily. He’s being an asshole. Excuse my French.”
“My apologies,” Marcus said. “Guess I’m curious about an assassin. Especially one who is a woman.”
“Do you shoot, Marcus?” Emily didn’t bat an eye; instead she engaged him, asking him about his own experience in the field. It wasn’t long before he was talking to her, leaning in to do so, and seemingly interested in more than how hot she was—which was quite a bit, as far as John was concerned.
