by Paige Tyler
“Okay. I’ll be quick,” he said, then turned and jogged toward the admin building.
Mac didn’t realize she was following him until she was halfway to the admin building. She stopped short, swearing under her breath. What the hell was she going to do in there, watch him shower and ask if he needed help getting all that sand off his back?
She shook her head. She needed to get a grip on herself, and fast.
She turned to head toward the training building, but stopped again. She’d wanted to get a look at the filing cabinets she’d seen yesterday. What better time to do it than while the entire SWAT team was showering?
She stepped into the building all prepared to give Gage some story about needing to use a computer, but he was already upstairs with the other men. Of course, this would be a waste of time if the file cabinets were locked. But they weren’t. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Sure, she’d be able to rifle through them, but if there was something incriminating in them, would they leave them open? Only one way to find out.
The first drawer she looked in held personnel records. She skimmed through a few, including Gage’s, but there was nothing in there she didn’t already know. It wasn’t as if they were going to maintain a list of drugs they might be taking. She closed that drawer and opened the next.
This one held more personnel records, but these were specifically related to training and weapons qualification information. Other than the fact that all the files were thick as heck—SWAT guys trained a lot—they were otherwise pretty dull.
She moved to the next cabinet and opened the top drawer. It was full of what looked like incident records for each call the team had responded to, complete with officer statements, photographs, diagrams, and procedure review documents.
Now this had potential.
She picked a folder at random and started flipping through it when she heard the sounds of laughter coming from upstairs. That was when it hit her—there were sixteen attractive, muscular, naked, and probably soap-covered men in the showers not more than a few feet above her head. The thought was almost enough to make her say the hell with these old files and sneak upstairs for a peek.
But she had a job to do—and secrets to uncover.
Mac checked the door, listening for footsteps coming down the stairs. She didn’t have a lot of time to snoop around.
She tried to focus on reading between the lines of the reports, looking for any details they might have glossed over, or even left out completely. But it was hard not getting caught up in what she read.
The first report chronicled a hostage situation involving a rape victim and her brutal attacker. The next was a father who’d killed two of his own children before Gage and his men had gotten there just in time to save the mother and a newborn baby.
Murderers barricaded in their homes, thugs who’d robbed convenience stores, everyday people who’d snapped and started shooting everyone they came across, depressed people who wanted a way out and thought pointing a gun at a bunch of people might get them what they were looking for.
Mac was stunned by how many of the incidents ended with the suspects getting arrested instead of shot by SWAT. She’d always assumed SWAT only got involved when someone needed shooting.
She jumped ahead to the date Marvin Cole had been arrested. It took her a few minutes to thumb through the files, but she finally found the incident report she was looking for. She read it through quickly, not sure what she was searching for.
The report read pretty much like the story Marvin had told her, except for the part about the kidnap victim being a twelve-year-old kid and that the kidnapper—Marvin—had beaten the hell out of the kid’s babysitter to get the kid away from her.
Gage’s report said they’d tracked Marvin to an old hotel, where Senior Corporal Zane Kendrick, one of the SWAT team’s negotiators, had tried to talk Marvin into giving himself up. Marvin had apparently threatened the kid’s life, which had sent Gage and another senior corporal on the team, Trey Duncan, into the hotel room. It was impossible to tell because Gage’s words lacked any emotion, but Mac wondered if he’d been concerned about going up against a three-hundred-and-fifty-pound criminal with only two officers.
The report provided the precise time the two-man team had kicked in the door, then only a simple three-sentence description of the ensuing arrest of the suspect and rescue of the hostage.
Senior Corporal Duncan kicked in the door and covered me as I moved across the room to secure the suspect. The suspect resisted, which required me to pin him against the wall of the room for a short period of time while Corporal Duncan got the hostage to safety. My pinning technique resulted in scratches to the suspect’s chest, which were treated by the EMTs on scene.
She was just flipping to the back of the report, which included pictures of Marvin and the familiar scratches on his chest, when she heard the thump of heavy boots on the stairs.
Crap.
Mac shoved the folder back in the filing cabinet and closed the drawer as softly as she could. Then she darted out the door and into the main office. Could she make it to the front door before whomever it was entered the room?
She decided against it and instead threw her butt into one of the office chairs and grabbed the first thing to read that she could find on the adjacent desk—a magazine about handguns. She’d just crossed her legs and opened the magazine to a page advertising Real Bleeding Zombies! Available for Target Practice Now! when Gage walked into the room.
“I thought you’d be watching TV.”
She looked up slowly, acting as if she was mesmerized by the magazine. “Oh yeah, I was going to, but then I saw this magazine and I got interested in it. I didn’t realize I’d been sitting here that long until you came down.”
“Really?” Gage casually made his way toward the filing room. “I never would have pegged you as someone to read a gun magazine.”
Mac almost gasped out loud as he walked in the room and looked around. Oh, God. Had she left the drawer open on one of the filing cabinets?
“Hey,” she practically shouted. “Did you know they make zombie targets that bleed?”
Gage looked around the filing room, then reached over and switched off the light. “Yeah, I’ve seen them. Unfortunately, they’re not suitable for real training.”
“Really?” She hadn’t expected him to do more than laugh at how silly bleeding zombies were, not respond seriously to her question. But now he’d gone and made her curious. “Why not?”
He came around and plunked himself down in the chair beside her. “For one thing, they’re too damn expensive. For another, it encourages bad shooting habits. Everyone wants to shoot the zombie in the head instead of the center of the chest.”
She couldn’t help but laugh as she envisioned the SWAT team being pelted with bad press because they were caught preparing for the coming zombie apocalypse. “I guess I see your point. It could turn into a PR nightmare.”
Gage chuckled. “Not nearly as bad as the trouble we got into when Xander brought in the fiberglass clown he found. He thought it’d be a great idea to use it as the bad guy in a live-fire hostage training scenario. The company that owns the burger franchise that uses the clown as a mascot didn’t agree.”
Mac laughed. “I wonder why?”
“I know, right?”
She tossed the magazine on the desk, glad she’d been able to successfully distract Gage from looking too closely at the file room. She was sure she didn’t leave any of the drawers open, but she needed to be more careful. She’d have a hard time finding anything on these guys if she ended up getting caught and tossed out of the compound.
Not that she was going to learn anything worthwhile by reading through the files. The only thing she’d gained by going in there was to verify that Gage had been the one who’d pinned Marvin up against the wall and put those scratches on him. He’d come right
out and confessed to it in his report. Then had the EMTs take pictures of the scratches for the police records.
Not exactly the act of a cop whacked out on drugs. And Marvin’s assertion that only someone on drugs could pick him up and pin him against a wall? That seemed more than a little dubious now that she’d met Gage and seen all those rippling muscles. She got the feeling Gage might weight-lift criminals like Marvin for fun.
She almost screamed in frustration. Right now she felt more than a little stupid. She’d practically begged Ted to let her go after these guys, and other than the mysterious issue of the dusty NVG cases and at least one team member who was too stupid to get his injuries checked out by a hospital, she had nothing. Even the injury angle was looking like a bust. She’d done some serious eyeballing of every member of Gage’s team during PT—considering that none of them had been wearing much more than socks, sneakers, and shorts, there’d been a lot to eyeball—and she couldn’t find a wound on any of them, Martinez included. Apparently, Gage had been right about that scratch thing.
For the first time that she could remember, Mac doubted her instincts. She’d sworn there was something going on here, but now she wasn’t as sure.
She was still musing about how she could have been so wrong when she realized with a start that Gage wasn’t talking anymore. She looked up to see him regarding her with mild amusement. How long had she zoned out? Oh crap, she was completely losing it on this case.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” she asked.
“Mike and Xander have some squad-level training they’ll be doing. We can go watch that.” He gestured to the magazine on the table beside her. “Or since you seem to have taken a sudden interest in handguns, I can take you out for that shooting lesson we talked about yesterday.”
Mac’s heart beat faster. She knew she shouldn’t do it. Her best chance to learn something—if there was even something to learn—was to stay with the largest number of team members. You never knew who’d slip up and say something, so the more people you were around, the higher the probability.
But that was logic talking. And right then for some reason, logic wasn’t making decisions for her. Her rapidly increasing heart rate was. Besides, she’d just been thinking this story was looking more and more like a bust anyway.
“Just the two of us, you mean?”
He gave her a sinful smile, as if he knew that was exactly what she was hoping he meant. “Well, yeah. Unless you’d prefer to have a few other people come along with us?”
She didn’t.
* * *
It turned out that Zak had been right about the donuts. The SWAT guys did indeed eat donuts—voraciously.
She’d been shocked when her friend had walked into the training classroom with six boxes of assorted death-by-sugar bribes. It was one thing trying to get on someone’s good side, but it was another to do it so blatantly or with that many donuts. That was crazy.
But it was kind of scary the way the men ripped into the boxes. They’d cleaned out three boxes before she’d even picked through them, looking for something with sprinkles on it.
Zak looked at her smugly. She ignored him.
After the donuts were gone, Xander and Mike gave the training briefing. She and Gage sat in the back of the classroom so he could explain what was going on.
“This is a standard hostage training scenario for us,” Gage said softly into her ear. His breath felt deliciously warm against her neck. “Xander’s team will play the part of the bad guys, while your photographer will play the part of the hostage.”
Mac almost laughed. Zak wasn’t going to like that. Then again, he might. He seemed psyched about the idea. Probably all those video games he played.
“I thought maybe Ms. Stone could be the hostage,” Becker said, half turning in his seat to give her an expectant look. “You know—give her a better perspective on how we operate.”
The rest of the men nodded in agreement.
“Ms. Stone won’t be taking part in the training exercise,” Xander said firmly. “But she will be sticking her head in occasionally to watch, so you might want to pay attention to the briefing. That way, you won’t make idiots of yourselves when she happens to look your way.”
A few of the men laughed, but Becker looked positively glum. It was enough to make Mac feel bad. She leaned over to whisper in Gage’s ear. “I guess we could put off our shooting lesson for a little while, if it would help. I can play a very convincing hostage.”
The muscle in Gage’s jaw flexed. “Zak will work fine as the hostage. Besides, Becker just wants to see you tied to a chair, squirming to get loose. I think he has a thing for you.”
Mac laughed, until she caught Becker studying her. And he wasn’t the only one. She wouldn’t go so far as to say their looks were predatory, but she could have sworn the temperature in the training room jumped up three or four degrees. She didn’t mind being the center of attention in a room full of hot guys, but this was a little more than she might be ready for.
She looked at Gage. “Maybe it’s time for that shooting lesson?”
“Good idea.” He swept the room with his gaze. “Ms. Stone and I will be down at the lower shooting range. You probably should stay well clear of that part of the compound. I wouldn’t want an errant shot going wide and putting a hole through any of you.”
As they left the training building and headed for the armory, Mac gave Gage a sidelong look. “Your guys really need to spend some more time around the opposite sex. You ever thought about getting a few women on the team? Maybe mellow them out a little bit?”
She’d meant it as a joke, but Gage must have thought she was serious. “I’ve considered it, but it’s damn hard finding women who can fit the specific requirements I’ve put in place for the team. I’m always looking, though.”
When they got to the armory, Mac leaned back against the counter and watched as Gage took several pistols and boxes of ammo from one of the safes and packed them in a soft-sided bag about the size of a carry-on.
“Are you really that worried I’m a bad shot?” she asked, enjoying the view as he bent over to pull out some hearing protection. Damn, what she wouldn’t give to see him do that naked.
He turned to give her a curious look. “No. Why?”
“Well, you warned everyone to stay away from the shooting range. I figured you were worried I’d miss the target and accidently hit someone.”
She tried to sound casual about it, but honestly, she was a little concerned about the possibility of screwing up.
Gage picked up the bag, then held open the door for her. “I never said you’d be the one shooting them.”
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked along the sandy path to the shooting range he’d pointed out the day before. “So, you were just making sure we had some privacy?”
He grinned. “I thought you might be more relaxed if it was just the two of us.”
She smiled back at him, keenly aware of the familiar heat swirling in her tummy again. Target shooting as a form of foreplay—who knew?
* * *
Gage stood behind Mackenzie, steadying her arms as she aimed the small .22 automatic he’d started her on. She was actually better at this than she’d given herself credit for, especially when she realized that not every handgun was so powerful it’d put her on her ass to fire it. The .22 was the perfect gun for her because it wasn’t too loud, didn’t have much recoil, and was easy to aim. And now that she’d figured it out, she was starting to enjoy herself.
He knew he sure as hell was. Mostly because Mackenzie had a bad habit of leaning forward when she pulled the trigger. It helped her line up the sights, but made for an unstable shooting base. On the bright side, her unorthodox stance did cause her butt to stick out nicely. And as close as he was standing, that ass of hers was doing some interesting things to his focus as we
ll. At first he tried to keep his rapidly hardening cock from grazing her bottom, but that quickly became impossible—he was simply standing too close to her.
He would have felt bad about getting hard during a shooting lesson if it wasn’t for the fact that Mackenzie was just as turned on as he was, maybe more so. He knew because he could smell her arousal. That uniquely feminine scent was so heady and overwhelming that it was almost hard to see straight, much less instruct her in the finer points of handgun use.
Worse, his mind kept slipping to the idea of how much better she’d smell if she was naked. It’d probably bring him to his knees.
He swallowed a groan and tried not to think about it. Yeah, like that was going to work. His hard-on was threatening to rip through the front of his uniform pants to get closer to her. He wasn’t doing a good job of thinking about anything but how tempting Mackenzie smelled.
After coming downstairs and finding Mackenzie’s scent all over the filing room, he’d realized that last’s night’s dinner had done nothing to dissuade her from pursuing her story. He’d known right then that he’d be spending the next several days working his ass off to keep her distracted. Of course, he’d assumed he’d spend the time distracting her the old-fashioned way, not the sexual way. But hey, this way was much better anyhow.
“I don’t think I’m doing this right,” Mackenzie complained. “I’ve only hit the target a few times.”
She fired the last bullet in the clip, missing again.
He reluctantly moved away from her to reload the magazine. He would reload the four others she’d already fired while he was at it. She loved the little .22 and had gone through the first fifty rounds in nothing flat.
“You’re doing better than you think. It’s just that the bullet holes are so small, you can’t see the holes in the target.”
“You can?”
She squinted at the target. God, her face was so cute when she scrunched it up like that.
“Yeah,” he said. “But it’s just because I’ve been doing this for a while. Trust me, you’re putting almost all your shots on the paper.”
