by January Bain
“What happened? You’re the original Quick Draw McGraw on getting the job done.”
“Some guy thought I was taking an accidental tumble and he just had to rescue me.”
“Nice. What guy?” Celine asked, rubbernecking the crowd.
“He’s gone. You know, the guy that was sitting right there.” She nodded at the table opposite.
“Really?” Celine’s eyebrows rose with her interest. “That hunk. Lucky you!”
“Not so lucky. I lost my chance at an easy photo. Now, I’ve got to do it again using Plan B.”
“Gimme,” Celine ordered, wagging her hand at her. “I’ll do it. Remember that case you brought me in on last year? You know, before the current state of things.”
She appreciated that her sister tiptoed around the sensitive subject, or at least she did most of the time. Sometimes she got on a rant about the absent ex, the direct cause of the current rush of less than desirable cases and more than half the reason she was closed for any new business with a man.
Celine continued her stroll down Memory Lane, her expression smug. “That supposedly bankrupt white-collar defendant who tried to pull the wool over the court’s eyes about being unable to afford the fine, and how I helped by posing with you as a potential buyer of a multi-million dollar listing that he forgot to tell the court he was sole owner of? And you know the best part?”
“No, what’s the best part?”
“Driving around and playing Folsom Prison Blues by Johnny Cash all that week, making it our anthem. We make a good team, sis.”
She handed the phone over without comment, her grin wide with the memory. Con man had had it coming, too, his own admission sealing his fate. She’d had a few such satisfying cases and wanted more of that kind of action, taking down criminals who thought themselves above the law.
The line-dancing crew was in Celine’s way as she hurried off, wiggling her way through the crowd. Well, they were in everyone’s way, strutting to a new tune. It Wasn’t God Who Made Honky Tonk Angels. Oh, really? Nevertheless, her toe-tapping began again in earnest. A sudden wild urge came over Gabby to join them and, before she knew it, she was dancing with the crowd, using the rhythmic, fun movements to absorb the excess energy surging through her system. Sometimes it was great to be alive.
Her sister came back just as the tune ended. She plonked onto her chair, breathing hard. “Look-y here!” She handed over Gabby’s phone.
Gabby checked it out. The photo showed Mr. Smith in full working mode, making an octopus look handicapped by comparison. “It’ll work.”
“A little thank you wouldn’t hurt.” Celine flounced in her seat, giving her that look. The one that annoyed Gabby. Like Celine was the put-upon step-sister in a fairy tale.
“Thank you, Celine. You are so good at this I have no idea why you don’t give up your day job working in that dead-end place as a PI’s office assistant when you know darn well you’ve got the skills to do so much more and come work for me full-time. Oh, yeah, right, you like to eat too much.” As soon as the words had left her mouth, she wanted to recall them.
“Sorry.” Gabby rubbed the back of her neck, a pair of eyes and the whiff of real man still front and center in her mind, try as she might to toss them aside. “Business could be better. But I have no right to take it out on you.”
Her sister pouted. “Only if you buy me another martini.”
She bit her tongue, wincing at the sudden pain. “Okay. One more, but that’s it.”
She gestured at their waitress, ordering the round with a wiggle of her forefinger, her ringing cell phone demanding her attention. Why hadn’t she thought to give the guy her number? Or at least ask his name? But soon as she checked the incoming number, she snatched the phone from the table, forgetting her questions for the moment. Silk O’Connor never called this late.
“Hey, Gabby. Sorry to bother you, but something important has come up.”
“You sound rushed. What’s going on?” Gabby could hear the new baby crying in the background. Lucky Silk, finding the man of her dreams. The one who wanted the white picket fence with all the trimmings. She sighed. Not her destiny.
“The baby’s fussy and we’re having company. But that’s not why I called you. TETRAD has an important job that’s just come up. Tonight. I don’t want to discuss the details over the phone. Are you interested? Can we count on you short-term? I’ve got my hands full with the baby, but I’ll help where I can.”
“How temporary?” Gabby interrupted.
“Well, it might just lead to a future full-time job with us, Gabby. I know you’ve been wanting to do more, leave the cheating husbands far behind. We both know you’re better than that. Step up now and we’ll see how it goes. What do you say? We need you bright and early at the office. Can you manage your current caseload along with an extra assignment that will take up a lot of your time?”
“Yes.” Gabby’s heartrate sped up. “I say yes. I’ll see you in the morning. Oh, and text me the address, please.”
She set her phone back on the bar table, giving Celine a wide smile.
“So, what is it? You look like a cat that swallowed the canary, sis.”
“Just got a short-term job to work with a new group calling themselves TETRAD. Something that might lead to more if all it goes well. Fingers crossed.”
“When do this need you?” Celine asked, leaning forward in her seat, taking a sip of her drink.
“Right away. And they just take big cases, too.”
Celine wrinkled her forehead. “TETRAD. Hmm, isn’t that the new business your friend Silk is involved with?”
“Yeah. And the best part, what they stand for, their mission of doing whatever it takes to help others, is right up my alley.”
The waitress delivered the drinks as if right on cue. Celine raised her glass to toast with her sister.
“To new beginnings,” she said, her big blue eyes brimming with enthusiasm, the gold speckles dancing brightly as they caught the reflected light of the rustic chandeliers placed strategically over the tables.
“Yes, to new beginnings.” The atmosphere in the bar took on a brighter hue as she let the news infiltrate her system. What could a few more drinks hurt? The crowd was just getting into full swing and another round of dancing would be good exercise. On impulse, she pulled her sister to the dance floor as the house band struck up a new tune, something about a good-hearted woman in love with a two-timing man. Figured, but at least she could dance her ass off, allowing herself the luxury of releasing a little steam for a change. It had been so long since she’d felt the urges she’d been having tonight, overcome with the pure unbridled joy of being young, a life full of potential, excitement, and purpose lie dead ahead.
* * * *
Day Three: 1:22 a.m.
A bit tipsy and having caught a taxi home, Gabby stumbled into the bedroom of her rented townhouse. She pulled off her boots and tossed them aside. Her dress vanished next and she lay down on the bed in just her white lace panties and bra. What a fun night. Worth being a little tired in the morning. Too bad that handsome stranger on his big white horse had had to leave so soon. Gabby giggled aloud at the idea of the man on a horse galloping through the Legend Saloon.
Celine was wrong about her. Gabby knew lust—she was just picky. Very picky. What was wrong with that? Her fingers drifted to her lips. The stranger had stared at them, his eyes all dark and smoldering as though he’d been imagining kissing her. Oh, he’d been thunderstruck too, no doubt. Damn, I wish he was here right now. He looked experienced, as if he knew his way around a woman’s body. Would know just what buttons to push, what areas to concentrate on most. Oh, yeah.
Her hands drifted farther down and she grasped her full breasts, imagining his big strong hands there in place of hers. Caressing, touching, kissing me all over. She let her hands do what she wanted his to. Tugging on her erect nipples, first with his oh-so-talented fingers, then with his firm, sweet lips. He would pull down the straps of her bra,
exposing her naked breasts. He’d suck gentle at first, then more fiercely, ever so exquisitely hard on her sensitive nipples until she begged him for mercy. For him to fuck her. Fuck her hard, and fuck her long. Oh, yeah.
His spectacular package came to mind, how large it looked. She wanted what was hidden behind that zipper to come out and play. Now. To push between her legs, thrust right into and stretch her pussy lips wide open. Gabby inched her hand farther down her body and under the top edge of her panties. Then down inside the thin cloth, searching for the swollen lips, finding herself ready. She used her fingers to spread her outer lips, slipping one finger inside her pussy while the other caressed her clit.
She stroked her nub, her fingers rubbing it in small, tight circles, eliciting a low moan from her throat as she arched off the bed. Oh, so good. Gabby imagined him using his tongue to nibble at the sensitive bundle of nerve endings. Pleasure streaked through her as she envisioned his lips tugging, causing even more throbbing, more moans to escape. She moved her hand quicker, two fingers plowing into her heat, legs spread wide. She was soaking wet, her pussy lips slick and hot, her body about to explode.
Yes. Yes. Yes. Fuck me harder. And he did, his cock so massive it filled her to the brim, rubbing against her G-spot until she was a seething, undulating woman on fire with lust. No self-control left, no sense of false modesty—she let him do what he wanted. Anything. Everything. Just do me. Then he pinched her clit with the perfect amount of pressure, sending her reeling into a mind-blowing orgasm that shook her to the core, leaving her breathless. Wow. She fell back against the cover. She now had her new bedtime fuck buddy.
Despite that, she still spent a restless night, stuck in the same loop of gal meets guy and instead of avoiding the lust, beds him and finds him amazing in the sack. It was so good, in fact, that she needed a cold shower in the morning to get a grip and remind herself no man could be that good at going downtown. Gabby grumbled at Celine for the stupid suggestion.
She pulled into the parking lot of the address Silk had texted. Nice. The group had set up shop in a commercial strip mall on Granville Island a few weeks back. Central location, nondescript with subtle signage—perfect for their operations. She spied Silk’s silver Audi and Jake’s black SUV. A GMC Sierra 1500 half-ton, unknown to her, was parked in the same line-up. In her overnight text giving the business address, Silk had mentioned they were bringing in a heavy hitter.
Silk stood near the front of the minimalist, ultra-modern store as Gabby opened the door, stepping inside and relishing the air conditioning cooling her agitated skin. Silk was so busy talking to someone she missed her entrance. Gabby moved to the side to check out who it was who had her friend so engaged.
No. Fucking. Way. Can’t be him. But it was him. The man who had haunted her dreams all night long. Oh, God, and she had gotten herself off, imagining him having his way with her.
She swallowed, her skin tingling and her heat rising as her heartrate sky-rocked into the stratosphere. God, if he knew how much he’d figured in her going-downtown reality and very wet dreams last night, he’d be running for his life. At that precise moment, he looked over at her, his eyes widening just a little. Quick, think of something else. Anything else.
She frowned. Was the universe setting her up just for fun? If there are no coincidences, what the fuck was this?
“Gabby, good morning.” Silk woke up to the fact she was standing there.
“Morning,” she mumbled.
“We were just talking about you, how you’ve agreed to help us this week. I’d like you to meet Cole McClintock. Cole, this is Gabrielle Banks. An awesome private investigator with myriad skills, not to mention a good friend.”
Cole cleared his throat, his expression surprised. “Hi.”
“Hi, again,” Gabby said, wishing she could sink right through the floor and into the basement. Of all the men it could be. The guy that Silk had been raving on about since he’d helped Jake and Silk take down the cartel in LA, telling her how much they wanted him to join with their new consortium. So, this was that guy. The one with intimate knowledge of the law and superior tech skills who’d helped them in LA. The very man she’d most want to make a good first impression on. Too late for that. If she didn’t need this job so damn much, she would turn and walk out the door, knowing all too well that people form their first impression of a person in the first ten or eleven seconds of meeting, and, worse, that it was tough to change that impression. Talk about embarrassing. God, how she must have appeared last night on the job—dressed like a slut to attract a guy’s interest for a honey trap sting.
“You two know each other?” Silk asked, straightening her ponytail. Gabby shifted her focus with difficulty to her friend. She looked good—still losing the baby weight, but happiness shone from every pore. Gabby pushed aside a slight stab of jealousy. Her friend deserved her happiness. Silk had been through so much. Hell, she was all alone in the world, thanks to a drunk driver who’d killed her pregnant sister back in LA. Silk had earned her new contentment by choosing the right guy, though the way she told it, she’d had no choice. They’d combusted on the world’s strangest first meeting, bar none.
Silk had ’fessed up to Gabby about her insanity at the courthouse where she planned to take out the man responsible for killing her sister. How she’d waited with a high-powered rifle a block away. That sounded unbelievable to Gabby, knowing her friend and her normal demeanor. Then, three days undercover immersed in each other’s company, and they’d been an item ever since. A definite fairy-tale ending. One in a gazillion.
“Kind of. We met last night at the Legend Saloon, just not formally. We had a slight accident with a food order,” Gabby explained.
She snuck a look at Cole. He was frowning, not a good sign, his arms crossed in front of his chest. What was he thinking? Nothing good, she’d hazard a bet. Of all the times to meet a possible future boss. She’d better sort this out as best she could. If only she didn’t need this opportunity so much. She hated being judged more than anything. Her ire rose at the idea. What right did he have to criticize her? He didn’t know her circumstances. How she slaved for every penny to pay off a mountain of debt.
“Yeah, I was on one of those stakeouts, you know, dressed to catch a cheating husband. What can I say? They pay the bills.” She shrugged, clicking a thumb nail against her front teeth and sneaking another glance at Cole, who was still frowning, but looking less judgmental. Easy for you, Texas. You don’t have to pay for an ex.
Silk laughed, giving Cole a slight shake of her head as if it was no big deal, a definite signal. “What? That was you? We ended up with McDonald’s. Not exactly my favorite to-die-for pulled pork sandwich, but it sure beat cooking last night. Cole Quintin Jake Marshall, named after my three favorite guys in the whole world, was not in the best of moods. I hope you finished with the case, caught the guy? I know you’re not big on spending nights in the bar. Hazard of the job, eh.”
At least Texas wasn’t frowning now, though he still looked skeptical. Well, it was a start. Maybe. Resentment scorched the earth she stood on. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Sorry about that. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” So, this was also one of the guys they’d named their son after. The realization sent another shockwave reverberating through her system. It just got better and better.
“No worries. Okay, let’s head into the conference room and we’ll lay the case out for you,” Silk said.
Gabby hurried after her friend when Cole gestured for her to precede him, then following close behind them into the impressive room that housed a large oval teak table with sleek chrome and black leather chairs. She caught a whiff of his fragrance, relishing the fresh scent of clean man so early in the morning. Hmm. Conflicting signals entered her brain, one demanding she push him down on the conference table and have her way with him and the other wanting her to try to appear more ladylike and make up for last night. It made her head spin.
Silk O’Connor’s husband, Jake Marsha
ll, appeared, opening the back door to the office from the warehouse side, his boots echoing on the hardwood floor, cell phone in his hand. He gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek, nodded a quick greeting at Gabby. Ah, Jake. He was one of the few remaining good guys, the guy who wore a big white hat for her friend Silk. Was that what she wanted as well? If she were a betting woman, she’d lay a billion to one odds against it happening for her. Ever.
“Okay, here’s the deal.”
“Jake, can I speak with you for a moment—outside?” Cole asked, interrupting him.
Jake looked surprised but gave a curt nod. Both men strode out of the room, carefully closing the door behind them. Fuck, I know what that’s about.
Gabby gave Silk a skeptical glance, biting at her thumb nail in earnest now. “I don’t think that guy’s too pleased about my being here.”
“No worries. He just doesn’t know you yet. Give him a chance. He’ll come around once he realizes how skilled and talented you are. How could he not? Look at you!”
“Maybe.” Fuming at the perceived slight, wondering at what was being said, Gabby drummed her fingers on the tabletop.
“Relax. It’s going to be fine.”
Oh, yeah, I can see that.
The two men came back into the room a few minutes later, sitting down as if nothing untoward had happened. Her stomach roiled, making her want to strike out at something. Anything. Just—stay—calm. So much easier said than done. She shook her head, focusing only on Jake, desperate to avoid looking at the guy who doubted her. I might not be a good judge of men, but damn it, I’m good at my job.
“Quinn’s in the field and can’t join us just yet.” She knew Quinn, the ex-FBI guy who’d also been on the sting in LA with the pair. Jake continued, “Okay, Gabby, let’s bring you up to speed on what Cole’s shared with us. We got something huge that Cole’s brought to our attention that needs to be done yesterday. Missing fifteen-year-old child, tied to tech blackmail. We brought you in today not just because we’re underpowered with Silk working only part-time but because we have real need of your skill set—our specialized knowledge in surveillance and undercover operations plus your ability to read people. Knowing the tells, if they’re lying or not during conversations and interviews.”
