Nice Guys Collection With Added Bonus Material

by Kindle Alexander

  “You couldn’t stop to get your things?” Connors asked as if the thought had just occurred to him.

  “No.” Mitch sighed and stared straight ahead.

  “She must have been something,” Connors said, stepping out of the elevator. Mitch took the words as an attempt at levity. The agent failed miserably.

  “Something like that. Let’s just say he was hard to leave.” Mitch gave Connors a wink, smirking as he strolled past the now-unusually-quiet agent and headed out a side door of the building. He actually laughed at the stunned look on his face when he glanced back. “I’m driving.”

  “You don’t know the way,” Connors finally said as he caught up with him in the parking lot.

  “Hope you’re a good navigator,” Mitch retorted.

  “Are you always this much of a dick?” Connors asked.

  “Pretty much,” he answered, sliding inside the car parked in the closest spot. Mitch started the ignition and dropped the gearshift in reverse before Connors had the seat belt buckled.

  Chapter 11

  Cody drove the long stretch of Interstate 35 with the driver’s window of his big black four-by-four F250 rolled down. He had his Texas Rangers baseball cap flipped backward and his Ray-Ban sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose filtering the bright Texas sun. Blake Shelton sang a tune on the radio.

  The trip back to Austin hadn’t been bad, even though the traffic stayed heavy pretty much the whole way back home. Probably because Cody’s mind remained fully focused on Mitch Knox. Now that the night was over, he was incredibly glad he’d gone. JR’s turned out to be exactly what everyone said about the place. Fantastic.

  On every level, Mitch was exactly what attracted Cody to a man. He was aggressive, clever, built like a Mack Truck, and he had ambition. Not to mention he was superhot, one of the best-looking men Cody had ever seen in person, but he was also down to earth, sarcastic as hell, and damn good at his job. Based on his appearance and attitude, before he’d figured out the man’s identity, he’d have thought Mitch more like a biker kind of guy instead of the decorated deputy US marshal he turned out to be.

  Now all these hours later, Cody knew, he likely would have had sex with Mitch last night. The decision would have come after a lengthy internal struggle to justify his actions—because he had an inner battle with just about everything that had to do with his casual sexual needs—but no question in his mind, he’d have gone through with that one-night stand if given the opportunity.

  He suspected that sexual encounter would pretty much have rocked his world, but what intrigued him more was that phone call Mitch had gotten. That call had stopped everything and sounded official. For those few seconds that he’d stood outside the car, listening to the conversation, Mitch went from the persistent, excessive flirt to a formal, hard-toned deputy marshal. It made him realize Mitch was truly badass at his job, and that was everything Cody ever wanted to be.

  As he veered off the highway, taking the back roads to his family’s farm, he wished he’d had the balls to ask for Mitch’s phone number. At the time, he’d blamed his lack of courage on not being sophisticated enough to play the one-night stand game. Giving phone numbers meant involvement, and he didn’t see Mitch as relationship material. He’d watched Mitch long enough last night to know he’d come there looking for sex. Cody easily put Mitch in the category of being the type to have a guy in every port. But now, as he lamented his missed opportunity, he recognized that fear had somewhat held him back. He had a mighty strong attraction to the guy, and it was going to take a long time to get past the appeal Mitch held. He also knew he had to up his game and get back to his priorities.

  He was a twenty-six-year-old gay man who had chosen his career. He needed to stop wasting time on trying to nail party boys down to monogamous partners and start looking for something more attainable. Someone who fit him better and understood his life.

  He figured that was the lesson he needed to have learned from last night. Eventually, he’d meet some professional men in law enforcement. He needed to be open to them, not shy away like he tended to do. He’d closed himself up too tight, trying to balance stereotypes, protect himself and keep the career goals of his profession.

  With those thoughts, he took the long dirt road to his parents’ house. He wondered what Mitch would think about weekly church services and lunch with his family. More than likely someone as badass as Mitch Knox had probably extricated himself from his family a long time ago. He couldn’t see Mitch sitting inside a church, even the Cowboy Church they all attended. He even laughed at that thought. No, he couldn’t see Mitch sitting in his family’s pew, right up front, listening to a sermon. He wondered what Mitch would think about his father and oldest brother, Mason, being deacons of that church? That thought made him laugh out loud as he pulled up to the house.

  As he suspected, all his brothers and sisters were parked right out front. What he hadn’t expected was the giant banner running across the front porch that said very clearly, Congratulations, Cody! That had him smiling. He’d given himself all night and this entire trip back home to think about Mitch, but he’d dwelled on his missed opportunity long enough. He had people here who loved him, and in the words of his oldest sister, he needed to keep moving forward, and the past was most definitely behind him.

  As he put his truck in park, the smile stayed on his face as his oldest niece, Sarah, who was seven, launched herself off the porch, running toward his truck. The rest of the brood followed. His sister-in-law caught the youngest one, Talon, as the little tyke tried to run after the others off the front porch steps. That would have been a face plant for sure since the little guy barely walked yet. Cody had decided a long time ago that his siblings were a breeding bunch.

  “Uncle Cody! Congratulations!” Sarah said, hugging him tight before he’d even made it all the way out of the truck. Tucker, who was six, was on his other side, mimicking Sarah’s hold. When four-year-old Kylie finally reached him, her little arms extended, ready for him to haul her up. He did and got a big wet kiss on his lips. He loved them all, no question, but Kylie held a special place in his heart.

  “Uncle Cody, you didn’t go with me to church this morning,” she said as he bent over, hugging Sarah, and then patting Tucker on the head. Tanner had finally made the distance. He was a little past two and a half, and Cody hauled him up, placing him on the other hip.

  “Nana made your favorite cake for Sunday lunch,” Tucker declared as the group of them made their way toward the front porch. By then, the rest of his family stood outside waiting for him.

  “Shhh, it was supposed to be a surprise,” Sarah whispered.

  “Congratulations, Son,” his mom praised again as he handed Tanner over to his brother, because at the moment, Kylie had a death grip on his shirt. His mom was five-two, so he had to angle himself to keep Kylie in his arms as he bent to hug her.

  “Thanks for all this,” he said, accepting her kiss.

  “We’re so proud of you, Son.” His dad was up next, giving him a tight hug, but his little nephew, Talon, wanted in on the action. He maneuvered himself from his sister-in-law’s arms to where he had the same death grip on Cody that Kylie had. The congratulations continued from all his brothers and sisters as he slowly made his way inside. Even his dog, Chester, was right there, ready to greet him too.

  “Was he good?” Cody asked Kylie who was finally ready to let go, once he kneeled down to pet Chester.

  “No, he pooped in the dining room. Mom got mad at him,” she corrected.

  “No, ma’am, I didn’t get mad at him. I got mad at you, little lady. You were supposed to take him outside before bedtime,” she scolded.

  “Uncle Cody, I didn’t take him outside. The coyotes are back and Mom wouldn’t let me take the BB gun out with me to protect us,” Tucker chimed in. Tucker was Kylie’s older brother.

  “But he snuck it out anyway,” Kylie said, telling on her brother. That was all it took for a fight to begin, and his sister did everyth
ing in her power to stop them before things got out of hand.

  “Did we get souvenirs?” Sarah asked.

  “Yep, in the front seat of the truck.” Cody laughed as Sarah raced out the door in a flash.

  “Tell them about the mounted patrol,” Mason suggested.

  “He can tell us while we’re eating. We’ve been holding lunch,” his mom spoke up from the door separating the dining room and the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry I’m late, Mom,” Cody apologized, moving with the group toward the table.

  “Mom made your favorite dessert,” Justin, his brother, added, slapping him on the shoulder. “Lucky.”

  The big family table, the one that kept expanding with every grandbaby born, was set, and his mom began loading the table with the huge feast she’d cooked on his behalf. Another banner, much smaller than the one out front, hung in that room too. He was even shown to his spot for this week’s dinner—the prime spot in the middle of the table. Kylie made it clear she was sitting next to him. Sarah burst back inside the room with his bags of treats.

  “We all got Texas Rangers baseball ball caps like Uncle Cody’s,” Sarah declared. She handed them out and they started to put them on.

  “No hats at the table,” his father said.

  “Let ‘em wear their hats today, Daddy. We’re celebrating,” his mom reasoned, carrying in his favorite pot roast dinner. The kids squealed with delight when they found the small sheriff’s badges that had Dallas written across the front.

  “You’re going to spoil them,” his sister Sheila scolded.

  “That’s what uncles are for.” And that earned him a huge grin from Kylie who then decided dinner needed to be eaten from his lap, not her chair. “I met Colt Michaels when I was in Dallas.”

  “No way! Where?” Mason asked.

  “He was leaving a bar.” Cody picked up his napkin and placed it on his free leg.

  “Did you get him to sign your hat?” Travis asked eagerly.

  “Nah, I wanted to, but it wasn’t really the right time.”

  “Tell us about the job,” his brother tried again.

  “Not before grace,” his dad stated as his mom took her seat next to him. That was the sign to bow his head. The entire room grew silent as his father began the blessing.

  Chapter 12

  Mitch sat quietly, staring at Senator Greyson and his wife in a private room next to Elliot’s in an undisclosed hospital west of the city. He let Connors do most of the talking for them. Apparently this was Connors’s second meeting with the family since the incident. Mrs. Greyson appeared exactly how he would expect an exhausted, concerned mom to look. Senator Greyson just looked angry. Then again, Greyson always appeared angry, which made it difficult to read his body language.

  Honestly, as close as Mitch could tell, the Greysons had pretty standard responses to the situation. The family had no idea what happened or who would want to hurt their son. Except Senator Greyson made it clear, he believed every Democrat in the nation could be considered a suspect.

  With the exception of the last remark, every other family he had interviewed felt that exact same way. When a victim had survived, they were like Colt—critically injured with very little memory of the accident. There were no leads.

  There were clear differences in the Greyson case compared to the others, though. Elliot Greyson was the youngest victim targeted, he had no career, and wasn’t high profile. His father held that distinction. The only similarity at the moment was that two of the cases involved a bomb. County Court Judge Bennett had been killed in a bombing accident.

  Mitch began to bite at his fingernail, letting Connors go on and on with the meaningless questions until he finally just tuned him completely out and looked around the room, watching the Secret Service a little closer. The president had ordered a double-up on the Secret Service security for this family. Mitch had been given some cock and bull story about the kid ducking out of a coffee shop, dodging his security detail. Apparently this story had been backed up by the staff at the shop.

  Per the family, Elliot was a good young man. An honor student throughout his high school years and carried those same ethics into college. He was smart, well-mannered, worked hard, and was easy to get along with. Definitely not someone who fit the mold of a rebel.

  One Secret Service agent stayed in the room during the questioning. Two stood by the door that hadn’t been allowed to be closed. Mitch assumed the move was all that departmental posturing. The ‘we’re better than you’ bullshit that seemed prevalent between the divisions, especially here in Washington DC.

  After a few minutes more of nothing, Mitch was done. They’d find no answers here. The family knew nothing. Now they needed to move on to the next task at hand. They needed to get to Kentucky before the evidence had too much time to be tampered with.

  Not exactly sure how to hurry the long-winded Connors up, Mitch stood abruptly, effectively silencing everyone, causing all eyes to look his way.

  “I’ll be out in the hall,” Mitch announced, then strolled from the room, not waiting for a reply. He heard Connors rambling off an excuse for his lack of manners, and he rolled his eyes in his retreat. Mitch targeted the two guards at the door.

  “Were either of you on this case the night the kid was abducted?” When he got the look that he was clearly stupid, he amended his sentence. “I mean the night he ran off?”

  “No, sir. Special Agent Hanson was with the family that evening,” the less ugly one said.

  “And is he around?” Mitch asked.

  “He was here earlier. We relieved him,” the uglier one answered.

  “Of course you did.” Mitch scrubbed a hand over his face as he headed for the elevator. Then thought better of it and bypassed the elevator to take the stairs down to the lobby and out the front doors, letting the sunshine soothe his frustration. Sliding his sunglasses in place, he took a seat on the closest park bench and pulled up the message he needed to send in private. This one was to Aaron.

  He’d met Aaron years ago online, playing State of Decay. As it turned out, Aaron’s day job was part of the intelligence nerd herd division of the NSA. He had the highest security level clearance anyone could have, but as Mitch had come to learn, his skills didn’t require a clearance. He was a hacker through and through. His sole purpose in the NSA was to hack into the government’s systems. Something he did easily every single day and then assisted in fixing the areas of weakness. In other words, Aaron was badass and a great ally to have on his side even if no one else thought so.

  “Hey, you busy?” Mitch texted.

  “In Dallas at Geekfest,” Aaron texted back.

  “Of course you’d be there. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I just got back from there. There wasn’t a room to be had,” Mitch texted back

  “It’s been greatness. Wat’s up?”

  “I’m calling in a favor. I’m on assignment and I need to figure out who someone is. Have time?” Mitch asked

  “Sure, what’s there to go on?” Aaron asked.

  “I have a picture I’m attaching—it’s not the best quality. His name is Cody. He lives somewhere in central Texas and he’s a Texas State Trooper. He was just assigned to the new mounted detail for the state capitol.” Mitch attached the photo he had and felt more than heard Connors stalking up on him. He purposely ignored him as he finished the text and waited for Aaron to respond.

  “Seriously, what was that about? You never just leave an interview,” Connors asked as he came to stand directly in front of Mitch.

  “It was bullshit and a waste of time. Besides, someone’s lying,” Mitch said, never looking up. Instead, he opened Aaron’s return message. “When do you need this back?”

  “Whenever it’s convenient for you, but today would be good.” Mitch texted back quickly.

  “It’s wildly assumptive to consider anyone in that room to be lying. They profile exactly as they should, and this isn’t a conversation to have so publically.” Mitch glanced up
as Connors scanned the area, looking for wondering ears. His phone vibrated again, alerting him of another text.

  “It shouldn’t take long. When I get back to my room, I’ll message you,” Aaron responded back.

  Mitch rose, making a show of stretching out his long body and rolling his shoulders. He did it all just to get a little further under the skin of his goody two-shoes partner who continued talking. Lord, did the man ever shut up? He tucked his phone in his back pocket and started for the car. Thank god he’d chosen to drive.

  “You have got to stop walking away from me in midsentence!” Connors stated emphatically. Mitch did look over his shoulder, cocking his head toward their rental.

  “The airport’s this way,” he said before lifting a finger toward the half a dozen or so cameras on the light posts around the hospital parking lot. “It’s more private in the car.” He never said another word, but by the time he had the car in reverse, Connors was buckling his seatbelt. God must have showed mercy on him because Connors didn’t start back up again until they hit the freeway. Best half mile of his life.

  Chapter 13

  You guys travel in style,” Mitch said as he boarded the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s luxury private jet.

  “You deputy marshals seem slower than the rest of the agencies I’ve worked with. Do you need sign language? Honestly, this is an important case. We need answers so we get preferential treatment, or did you not hear that in the conference call we were all on?” Connors replied.

  “Wait, what? Was that a joke I just heard?” Mitch stopped and looked around like he’d lost something.