Wicked Firsts

by Naughton, Elisabeth

  Walker made a choking sound before a deep laugh rolled from his chest. “Just hold on to that little rule, sugar. I realized at some point in the dark hours of the morning while I wasn’t sleeping that you are at the most dangerous element in this op for me.”

  And vice versa.

  But Zoe only had to recall a catastrophe named Brent and a clandestine sex tape he’d made of them together and shown around to know why she didn’t do guys she worked with. Almost five years later and she could still remember the fear, the fury, the shame. There were months during which she’d believed her career, her self-esteem—her life—would never recover.

  Ironically, hers had; Brent’s hadn’t. He’d been fired. And ostracized. To her surprise, Zoe had retained the majority of her coworkers’ respect and friendships. In a lot of ways, her relationships at work grew closer, as if the men saw her more as a person, less as an enigma.

  Trusting men on a deep level, however, was a whole different matter. Sex, she was fine with—as long as it was with someone away from the job. Sex was physical. But she’d trusted Brent, had cared about Brent. His exposure had damaged some fundamental element of trust inside Zoe. Permanently, she’d believed, until last night, when she’d found herself longing to confide in Walker.

  And she didn’t need any more complications when it came to Walker or this assignment. Things were suddenly tilting too heavily toward the emotional side for her comfort. Give her a goal, a job, she was on board. Focused. Muddy the waters with emotion, she lost power and direction. Which was probably why she worked so well with men.

  “How’d the studying go?” he asked with the slice of a hot grin.

  Zoe made a series of faces as her mind catalogued all she’d learned.

  He laughed. Zoe smiled. She loved his laugh. More, she loved to make him laugh.

  “Some of it was…interesting. Some…downright disgusting. Some…in between.”

  “You’ve really never used any…?” he asked, sincerely amazed.

  “Why is that so shocking?”

  He tilted his head and shrugged in a familiar guy gesture that made her miss her team.

  “What were the interesting ones?”

  “Walker, I know this is news to you, but discussing sex-toy preferences isn’t like discussing breakfast choices.”

  “That little vibrator I showed you last night…”

  The hot smile he slid her way made her squirm. Zoe clenched her muscles and crossed her legs.

  “You’re wet, aren’t you?”

  “Oh…my…God.” Here eyes widened. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “What did it? Thinking about the vibrator or me?”

  “It’s really hard to get angry with you when you act like this, because you’re just so…”

  “Hot?”

  “I was thinking more…adorable.”

  He made a face, a cross between disappointment and disgust before the expression broke into a grin. “Your hair is adorable.”

  Because she wanted to eat him up, she pulled one of the catalogues from the pile and snapped it open. “Since I know how much you love teaching, tell me about this butt-plug thing. This says some of them vibrate?” She held up an eight-by-ten glossy of said butt plug. He met it with a where-the-hell-did-that-come-from look. She pointed at his face and nodded. “Exactly. I just don’t get it. At all.”

  TAFT’S STOMACH CRAMPED WITH LAUGHTER by the time they reached the café. Brooks was a combination of sarcasm, innocence, and naughty sensuality that floored him. She was refreshing. Fun. And sexy in a blend of such understated and blatant ways, he found himself fascinated.

  When he parked, she pointed a warning finger at him. “If you want to eat—”

  “I’ll order my own food.”

  She grinned. Then her phone rang, and she frowned, reaching for it. When she glanced at the display, her smile returned as she answered, “Hi, Daddy.”

  A twist joined the squeeze in Taft’s gut. Outside the truck, he leaned his butt against the grill, crossed his arms, and waited. Normally, he would open and close car doors for women, but Brooks seemed happier when he didn’t. And it annoyed him because it stole one more opportunity for him to be close to her.

  “Just working today,” she said as she shut the door. “No, nothing too exciting. Same old thing. Turning illegals around, showing them the way back to their country.”

  She paused beside Taft and moved the loose asphalt around the ground with the toe of her sandal, laughing sweetly at something her dad said. Her feet were as small and sexy as the rest of her. Toes painted bright pink. Taft wanted to suck them. He wanted to suck them while he fingered her. He wanted to suck them while he fingered her with that five-fingered vibrator…

  He blew out a breath and shifted on his feet, repositioned his ass on the grill. Brooks took it as a sign of impatience and mouthed, I’m sorry. She held up her index finger to indicate one minute.

  Taft shook his head and looked toward the street. He’d thought way too much last night. Too much about how delectable she’d be to touch and taste and take. Too much about how unforgettable it would feel to be touched and tasted and taken by her.

  But he’d also gone over all her actions and reactions. All her comments and non-comments. All there was to like and admire about her.

  And her rule was a very good thing. Because he was more than a little afraid she could very well be the one woman who could make him want to do that horrible, unthinkable…girlfriend…thing.

  To have her all to himself…whenever he wanted her. To know she was thinking about him…whenever she wanted someone…

  “Listen, Daddy,” she said, “I’m going into a meeting. Can I call you after? Yeah. Sure. Kiss Mom for me. I love you. I will. I promise. Bye.”

  Taft’s whole body, from his shoulders to his hips, ached. Her voice sounded so young when she talked to her father. So filled with emotion when she said, “I love you.”

  He hated that mushy shit. Hated it.

  So why was it making him want to grab her and kiss the hell out of her?

  “I’m so sorry,” she said beside him, that same voice carrying over from her conversation with her father. “He gets going and he’s sometimes hard to stop. I haven’t talked to him in a week, so it’s worse.”

  Taft couldn’t help but smile. “A daddy’s girl, huh?”

  “Hopeless.” Her shoulders relaxed. She smiled, loose, easy. Her eyes filled with affection. And Taft realized then, in that very moment, he was fuckin’ twisted over this girl. “I’m the kid they thought they couldn’t have. He wanted a boy so bad. But he got stuck with me. He tried his hardest to turn me into a boy, but every time he turned around, I was still a damn girl.” She shrugged. “It got old sometimes, having the parent you idolize always wishing you were something different, but he’s a great man and I know he loves me with all his heart. Besides, I think the idea of me being a girl is growing on him as he gets older. My mother keeps reminding him about having a daughter to take care of him in his old age, give him grandchildren, stuff like that.”

  “A lot about you makes more sense now.” He lifted his hand and ran the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “Shit, Brooks…” he rasped, a rock of fear in his belly. “I fuckin’ like you.”

  That same fear flashed in her eyes, and she curled her fingers around his, pulling his hand from her face. “Good goddamned thing we work together, huh?”

  She started toward the café, and Taft watched her hips tip back and forth a few steps before forcing his gaze to the ground and his feet into motion. “Good goddamned thing.”

  “Are you close with your parents?” she asked when he caught up.

  “My dad left when I was young. My mom…” That was a long story. “She’s never been quite right upstairs.”

  Brooks made a sound of compassion and understanding. And left it at that. On the way through the café’s front door, she squeezed his shoulder and slid her hand down his arm. Then went directly to the booth w
here Rio already sat sipping coffee.

  Taft stood a moment, struck by how that small show of sympathy fit him perfectly. And how profoundly it touched him when a million well-meaning questions from previous women had only made him want to bury the problem deeper.

  And when he sat next to Brooks in the booth, he realized just how much had changed in one day, which intensified his justification for the panic.

  “I’m going to take that as a good sign,” Rio said, his gaze darting between them.

  Brooks lifted one shoulder. “He’s tolerating me.”

  Taft met Rio’s gaze. “Do Brooks and I—officially—work together?”

  Her gaze snapped up from the menu. “Shut. Up. Yesterday he said, and I quote, ‘Because of the nature of the store, you’ll have to work together.’ ”

  “That was a different context.”

  “Taft…” she warned.

  “Taft.” Rio’s voice rose with interest. They both looked back at him. Found him smiling. “We’ve moved from Walker to Taft.” He nodded in approval. “So what’s the concern you need to talk to me about?”

  “A threat against Brooks,” Taft said.

  “No.” She glared at him. He could feel it on the side of his face.

  “Yes,” he countered. “Ask her about her last night on the job.”

  She kicked Taft’s shin. He gritted his teeth.

  The waitress interrupted, poured coffee, and took their food orders.

  “I heard about it,” Rio said, his tone as even as always, but there was something in his eyes that told Taft a burr was wedged under his saddle. “Seven Diablos, shitload of cocaine, Brooks starring as James West of The Wild, Wild West.”

  “You know how those guys puff everything up—” she started.

  “Cameras and audio don’t lie.”

  Taft’s gaze darted from Brooks to Rio. “You watched them?”

  “Sure did. If one of my investigators is creating buzz, I’m going to know what it’s about.”

  “I did nothing wrong.” She forced her voice level. “And there was nothing haphazard or reckless about my actions. It was a good bust.”

  “You took down three men, Zoe, when each of your men took down one.”

  “One of them ran into my ATV. Another one dropped to the ground. They fucking caught themselves.” She lifted her hands. “And since when is stellar performance a problem?”

  “When it puts you in harm’s way.” Rio said the words slowly and clearly, his green gaze warring with Brooks’s.

  She held his stare. Silence stretched. But Zoe finally swallowed and cleared her throat. “I should have…let the last guy go.”

  Rio slumped back against the booth, his expression as defeated as Brooks’s. “You would have gotten another go at him in a couple of days.”

  Zoe let out a dry, self-recriminating laugh, nodding.

  Taft ached for her. Lessons were never fun. But this one, when she’d been trying to do good, had gone above and beyond and achieved that good, and being told she’d overstepped in front of Taft… That was hard to swallow. He was humbled by her strength of character.

  ‘’Now what’s this threat?” Rio asked.

  Taft glanced at Brooks, and when she didn’t show any interest in relaying the information, he did. When he was done, Rio sat back in the booth. Draped his arm over the back. Let his gaze go distant into the restaurant as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

  “I called my shift supervisor last night,” Brooks said, back to her steady, straight-forward self, “and explained everything. He’s looking into it but hasn’t heard anything to suggest there is any threat against any Border Patrol agents, let alone a female agent.”

  “That doesn’t mean there isn’t one floating deeper, at the root of the cartel,” Rio said.

  “The smugglers know how hard we come down on anyone who takes one of our own. They know—”

  “Which could be why they’d want to take you out, because of Cody.” Rio sat forward in an abrupt but smooth move. “They’d know you’d be out for blood. They’d know you wouldn’t let one damn smuggler pass if you could help it—for justice or revenge, it wouldn’t matter.”

  Taft’s brain zeroed in on this Cody. Someone who’d meant something to Brooks. Something big that Taft didn’t know about. He cast a look at her and found her mouth hanging open, struggling for words.

  Taft’s chest tightened in her defense. She’d taken a lot over the last couple days. “Hey, Rio—”

  He put up a hand to Taft. Didn’t even look at him. “I only watched part of the aerial video, but I read the entire report. That information wasn’t there. Why not?”

  “Taft told you, I didn’t…remember.” Her voice lost some force. Taft willed her to stay strong. “I didn’t remember until Cantos was in the shop and introduced himself with his full name.”

  Rio sat back, his gaze fierce. Not angry, but concerned.

  Brooks took a deep breath. Then another. Taft feared she was about to break, and didn’t know how to handle it. He absolutely didn’t do freak-outs or tears. It wasn’t a guy thing. He’d decided long ago it was an actual phobia. One created by a lifetime of living with his mother’s bipolar disease and his hopeless attempts to help her. In fact, that experience with dependence, neediness, clinginess, and self-absorption had created a dysfunctional distaste for any hint of that within a woman and was why Taft didn’t do serious.

  But instead of breaking down, Brooks said, “I absolutely don’t want anything to do with this assignment if my identity could put Walker at risk. Since that is obviously an issue, I’m going to pull out. I’m sorry, Rio. Thank you for the opportunity. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  She pressed a hand to Taft’s thigh. “Let me out, please.”

  “Boss?” Taft covered her hand with his but didn’t move. He looked at Rio with a sense of panic he neither liked nor understood. “Pulling her now could be a real problem. Cantos was obviously into her. Couldn’t take his eyes off her. If he comes back, it sure as hell won’t be to see me.”

  Rio pulled his phone from his pocket and made a call. “Yeah, hey.” He described the situation in brief and asked for deep intel from inside the Diablos. When he hung up, he said, “It could take a few days to get word back. Lay low.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ZOE FELT AS IF SHE’D BEEN TURNED INSIDE OUT and left in the desert for three days.

  Her emotions were way too involved in this. Of all the assignments when she needed her emotions in check, this was that assignment.

  “You know he wasn’t saying what happened to Cody was your fault.”

  Walker’s voice seemed loud in the truck’s cab and made Zoe startle. She’d never believed Cody’s death had been her fault, but she had always wished she could have done more to prevent it.

  “I know.” She pulled her gaze from staring at nothing, redirected it out the windshield, and answered the questions Taft had asked her the night before. “I was wearing a tactical vest that night, which covered the name embroidered on my uniform. In the field, we use nicknames, never our real names. And my name would also be on the incident report and the arrest record, but the aliens going back to Mexico aren’t entitled to any documentation. Ortiz, the guy from the other night, didn’t turn out to be a return offender, so he was transported back to Mexico City this morning. It’ll be at least a week until he tries to get over the border again. And I introduced myself to Cantos with my alias, Brooks Kelly.”

  Walker remained silent. Her mind drifted over the night of the incident and caught on the confrontation with Ortiz again during processing. “Oh, shit…”

  Walker’s head turn sharply toward her. “Zoe?”

  When he used her first name like that, his voice concerned, she went all soft inside. She couldn’t afford to go soft right now. For him or herself.

  “Take me home, Walker. I need to pick up my car.”

  He didn’t argue. Just changed course.

  The
truck stopped, and Zoe focused out the window. They were already at her townhouse. Her brain was so scattered she hadn’t recognized the passage of time. Regardless of whether or not Ortiz had gotten her last name, whether or not he’d passed it on, whether or not anyone had connected it to her posing undercover at Incognito, she wasn’t together enough to work with Walker right now.

  “Thanks,” she murmured as she opened the door and slid to the ground. “I’ll see you at the store later.”

  Zoe heard him calling her name. Her first name. She really needed to talk to him about that. Later. Right now she just needed to find some quiet. Some space.

  She lifted her keys to the lock on her door but couldn’t fit the damn thing. Her hand was shaking.

  “Shit.” She brought her other hand up to steady the first.

  Another hand closed over hers. Big, bronze, gentle but firm. One of his arms slid around her waist. Zoe closed her eyes. Steeled herself.

  “Are you hard of hearing, Brooks?” he muttered, jamming the key in the lock and snapping it sideways.

  He pushed her inside and closed the door.

  Hold it together.

  She walked five feet away and turned to face him. “Thank you, for…for…” She couldn’t label everything right now. “I just need a few minutes to get my head on straight, okay? I’ll be fine. I just… I’m just…rattled. I’ll be fine. I—”

  “I know you’ll be fine, Brooks. I know you’ll pull yourself together. I know you’ll get your ass back out there on the front lines and do your job.”

  His hands were dug into his hips, elbows wide, hip cocked, gaze intense. He looked so damned sexy. Zoe recognized that thought for the distraction it was—to avoid the heavier, harder thoughts lurking.

  “But you’re not going to do that until we talk,” he said. “That’s part of this undercover gig. When you work with a partner undercover, you have to be able to nearly read each other’s mind, whether you want to or not. Whether you like each other or not. Because too often, being able to know what’s going on with the other person is what can save your life, or the other person’s life.”