They laughed and Jackson said, “No offense, but I don’t think it all hinges on you.”
Ethan’s frown had returned. “So you just want to watch some kind of parlor trick, then? Like I’m a clown or something?”
“We’re just kidding around,” Jackson said. “Blowing off steam. I’m sorry.”
“Doesn’t sound like it,” Ethan said, staring up at the house windows. “It sounds kinda fucked up, Jack. Is this what DARC ops is all about? Sitting around gossiping about ladies?”
“We work on dirt bikes, too,” Tucker said.
Ethan grinned, all apparently forgiven. “I guess that sounds pretty well-rounded, then.”
It was all laughs and jokes from then on, Ethan and his obvious puppy love. But Cole couldn’t find any humor in it. What was worse was how he’d felt about himself. How he’d let himself feel even the slightest bit possessive over the stupid littlest thing.
His logic, and how Annica’s body reacted to him—in contrast with her and Ethan—told him he had nothing to worry about. He knew that. But just the idea of Ethan flirting with her . . . And these guys egging him on . . .
He’d just met this girl. And he was already feeling this way?
It brought back some unpleasant memories.
Jealousy had been a problem with him in the past. He’d lost relationships over it, squeezing the sand too tightly so that it fell through his fingers. He’d like to think that he’d grown up since his early twenties, but there was this part of him that he could never seem to control. That dark, reptilian part of his brain. It was what got him into so much trouble. In school, in the army, and now at his job. For the most part he had learned to turn it around and use this energy for good, channeling it into constructive endeavors. Where he’d once become possessive, he now only got protective. He could feel the line, too, the delineation. He’d go right up against it and stay there. He could do that with Annica. He’d just allowed his attraction to her to get carried away.
He’d also not been under this type of stress for a long time. It was the same type of gnawing stressor that he’d felt back in the day, at the height of his bad-boy years when he wasn’t exactly good boyfriend material. Perhaps that was stirring up these deep-seated character flaws.
It also could have just been Annica, too. She was like no one he’d ever met. He’d never been with a woman who had a brain like hers. That was perhaps the biggest part of his attraction to her. He knew this from her news writing, but even more so from her emails. Early on, as they got to know each other, each message from Annica offered tiny yet profound views into her soul.
Of course he’d done a little research before that first contact. Nothing fancy. Nothing like the kind of reconnaissance these DARC guy would pull off. He ran her name through a search engine—beginning with the images. God, she was beautiful. He smiled to himself. Perhaps he’d been lost to her all along, ever since he’d first looked into her eyes.
18
Annica
She could hear them through the window, another round of laughter from the patio below. Although she strained to listen, ear aimed at the screen, the words rose up to the window in a jumble. The only thing that was clear was that they were having a good time—and probably at someone’s expense.
She hoped they were going easy on Ethan. He’d been acting a little too eager to work tonight. It was cute that he was on his first big story, and that he’d wanted to really dig in and get started. That was why she brought him, after all. But part of being a journalist, working around your subject, and sometimes intimately, is to know when to let loose and let go of the story for a while.
She had perhaps been a little guilty of going to the extreme with that. Letting loose. She had let go of the story completely, only to grab on to Cole—two handfuls of him. A mouthful, too.
She was still hungry.
Another round of laughter, this time from the kitchen. She spun around to her girls.
Annica was just happy they were talking about someone else’s love life for a change. Macy and her new man, Tucker. Well, old man. Old young man. Something that had begun years ago while they were both in the police academy.
Their laughter faded quickly and she could see why: ever-inquisitive Ethan had entered the room.
No notebook, thank God.
“What?” he said, his face going from loose and blank to crumpled annoyance. “What did I do now?”
The ladies laughed.
“You entered the room, apparently,” Annica said.
“I’ll tell you the same thing I told the guys,” he said. “I’m off duty. You’re safe.”
“You finally stopped working?”
“Yeah, you can all relax now. Actually, we were all outside talking, getting way off topic about dirt biking the Rubicon trail in California and my mind just sort of drifted off.”
“Oh,” Annica said, watching how the two other ladies stared at Ethan with oddly focused attention. “I never you knew you were into dirt bikes.” That bit of knowledge made her feel a little differently about her intern. He even looked different somehow. Maybe he wasn’t entirely about sitting behind a desk all day. Sure, he’d seen action at some point, she knew that. But things change. Maybe they hadn’t changed as much as she’d assumed.
“She thought you were more of the artsy type,” Mira said.
“Artsy?” he said, his face soured up at the idea of it. “Artsy . . .”
Ethan wasn’t bulky. In good shape, but lean. Tall. He had long, “artistic” fingers. Good for typing with, she’d thought.
“Why artsy?” He said. “Is it the lack of huge biceps? Tattoos? I was in the army, too, you know. Did you talk about that?”
“I keep forgetting about that,” Annica said. Huh. Normally she’d remember most everything about a person. Must be Mira’s cocktails.
“I’m really throwing you girls for a loop, huh?”
“Not me,” Macy said, turning to the girls. “I was out there with him. He actually showed the guys a thing or two about the bike.”
“Oh,” Mira said. “So what’s that supposed to mean?”
Ethan smiled. “It means I’m a badass.”
No one laughed. Instead, it was followed by the most pained awkward silence imaginable.
Annica had to say something to fill the gap. “Well, you’re definitely a badass journalist.”
“Intern,” Mira said, before her face cringed up. She looked like she felt about it. She said, “Sorry?”
“That’s fine,” Ethan said. “I’m a badass intern, then.”
“He really is,” Annica said. “I’d actually be nowhere without him.”
“Nowhere without coffees,” Ethan said through a playful smile. “I get it.”
“No, come on,” Annica said, laughing, then looking at Macy and Mira. “Guys, please, ease up on my rock-star intern.”
She knew it was probably hard for Ethan, being in this house with three alpha males and getting teased like this. They hazed everyone. Though he was an alpha in his own, mild-mannered, intelligent way. And through his pen, especially. He was a good writer.
“He’s really just trying to behave himself because the two of you have partners already. Right, Ethan?” she said.
“Huh?”
“Oh,” Macy said. “He’s a big flirt, is he?”
Annica’s cheeks reddened for what felt like the millionth time that night. “Well, not with me, I mean, but, uh . . .”
“What?” Ethan had gone back to that blank, almost sullen face of his. “Why are we talking about this?”
“Because it’s fascinating,” Mira said with a grin.
“Because we’ve all been drinking,” Annica said. “Ignore it.”
Mira said, “No, I want to hear about his exploits.”
“Do you guys travel around often?” Macy said, before her mouth pursed tightly.
Annica shot her a look.
Macy said, “You know, traveling around, just the two of you, hunting down
stories, and, you know . . .”
“No, I don’t know.”
Mira chimed in. “What are accommodations like?”
“What?” Ethan said.
“Hotels,” Mira said, “Do you guys share rooms?”
Ethan had a certain affliction—no, a clue: a reddened neck—whenever he’d get embarrassed enough. It hadn’t happened very often. But then again, Ethan had never met the DARC ladies. Tonight, he was definitely getting a good dose of them. And here in the kitchen, his neck lit up like a stoplight.
“Ladies,” Annica said. “You’re killing us.”
“I think we’re killing Ethan especially,” Macy said.
“Sorry,” Mira added.
“No one’s killing me,” Ethan said in a flat and plain voice. He walked toward the fridge. “I’m fine. I just came in to get a beer, that’s all. Nothing more to it than that.” But he’d actually arrived looking like he was searching for Annica, wanting to try another of his jokes, perhaps, or another question about work. In that way, she was almost happy he’d been warded off.
But did the ladies have to tease him quite that much?
“Where are you guys staying tonight?” Macy said.
“Their hotel,” Mira said. “Right, Annica? She told me all about it.”
Ethan said, “If you’re really that interested, we’re staying at the Hilo Peachtree Hotel.”
“In separate rooms,” Annica said quickly after. The girls laughed, and so did Ethan. But she could see a hint of pain in his face. He was probably better off grabbing his beer and leaving now, tail between his legs. Poor guy.
“I’d never want to share a room with her,” he said. “For one, we’re just not that close. Right?”
“Right?” Annica said, a little afraid of where it was going . . . his joke, and their relationship.
He said, “For two, I’ve seen how messy her desk can get.”
The kitchen was quiet. Annica said, “Hard work is messy. That’s the sign of a good investigative reporter.”
“It’s also the sign of a slob,” Ethan said, a smile finally flashing across his face. Some semblance of confidence returning to the lean and not-too-bad-looking artist.
They laughed again, this time squarely at Annica. It was fine. She welcomed the attention shift away from Ethan and who he might or might not be infatuated with. But the laughter ended a little too abruptly. She followed the gaze of the two women, straight to Cole.
How long had he been there at the doorway?
He was smiling, but there was something troubling him. Something empty behind his little chuckle as she looked at Ethan.
Could he tell what was going on?
Mira said a polite yet slightly vapid “Hello.”
And Cole just turned to look at Annica. She felt hollow inside. “Can we talk for a minute?” he asked.
An even greater silence fell over the hushed crowd.
Could they talk for a minute?
It felt as if the school principal had just stopped by.
“Yeah,” Annica said. “Sure.”
She gave Ethan a quick glance. He was looking at Cole, and then back to her, neck as red as ever. Annica told them all she’d be right back, and then slinked out of the room. She made it seem like work. A chore. Though once she left the kitchen and was alone with him, she was so grateful for the interruption. She didn’t even care what he’d had to say or how bad the news was . . .
She could see the worry on his face.
What was there to worry about?
A lot of things, most likely. His boss trying to track him down to kill him, and her, and whoever else they’d had associated to this mess: mainly, the occupants of the house party tonight. She and Cole had sure brought on a lot of danger to everyone. And all they could do now was laugh about it.
She assumed he was in no laughing mood, until they were outside, out front, alone in the light. He smiled at her.
“What the hell are you doing?” she said.
“Rescuing you.”
“From?”
“Certain embarrassment,” he said.
“How so?”
“Ah, you know . . .”
“No,” Annica said. “I don’t.”
“The guys were all kidding around, and . . .”
“With Ethan?”
“They talked to him and sent him in there, encouraged him to flirt with you or whatever.”
“So that’s what you guys were doing out there, laughing like that.”
“And other things.”
“I don’t even want to know.”
“It was Jackson and Tucker, mostly,” Cole said. “Everyone’s been drinking, you know. And, I think we’ve all been under a lot of stress lately. You and me specifically. I guess they were just trying to lighten the mood.”
“And what was Ethan trying to do? He works under me.”
“Maybe that’s what he’s trying accomplish?”
Her stomach turned at the thought. “Come on, Cole.”
“Sorry,” he said. “That was bad.”
“Actually,” Annica said. “I think I know what it is.”
“What?”
“I think it’s you.”
“Me?”
“I think you’re threatened by our connection,” she said. “Ethan and mine.”
He chuckled at that, his hand immediately rising to his chin and rubbing there.
“Look at you,” Annica said. “You look like I’ve just caught you with something. You look guilty.”
“No,” he said. “No. I’m not threatened by anything with him. He’s a nice kid.”
“Yeah, he’s nice. He’s also a good reporter, and we work well together. So I don’t want anything to mess that up.”
“Me neither,” Cole said. “That’s the last thing I want.”
“What’s the first thing?”
“What’s the what?”
“What do you want?”
His hand went back to his chin. “As in, what do I want right now, with you, or . . .?”
“Let’s start with why you brought me outside,” she said.
“I already told you that.”
She had moved alongside him, creeping against the side of the house until their bodies touched. “Then let’s move on to what you really want.”
“You already know that,” he said, his hand wrapping around hers.
“Uh-huh,” she said, snuggling into him. “But where?”
“Where what?”
“They’ll see us,” Annica said.
“They’ll see us what?”
“They’ll see me ‘interview you,’” she said.
“Ah, yes, interviewing . . . Maybe we should conduct the interview where we’ll have some privacy.”
“Mainly from Ethan,” she said, grinning.
“Let’s go for a ride,” Cole said.
“What, in their van?”
“On my bike.”
“Oh.”
“You’re okay without a helmet?”
“Am I?”
Cole smiled. “I’m a good driver.”
“Where are we going?”
“Just somewhere away from these people. Aren’t you sick of it already?”
Was she? Everyone had been kind and welcoming, mostly, but things were heating up inside more than she wanted right now. Operatives blowing off steam before a mission. She should be used to it, but right now she just wanted some space, some quiet. Maybe recent events had changed her, too, this time more than she’d realized. “Yeah,” she said. “I need a break, too.”
“I can give you that,” Cole said, tugging on her arm and pulling her off the wall. She followed him down the stone path curving toward the road where his bike had been parked. Next to the curb. Next to the van. The sight of the white paneled moving van reminded her of their mission. His bike symbolized the opposite: escape from it, at least for a little while. Escape, with each other. They both needed this.
“Hop on back,” he said.
>
“Wait,” Annica said. “They’ll hear us.” She looked back at the house, the windows lit in the dark.
“So?”
She pushed at him, breaking their lock, and said, “So they’ll think you’re kidnapping me.”
“No, they trust me now.”
She huffed. “After one day?”
“What do you need to do? Ask Jackson for permission?”
She almost said yes.
But why? Permission from Jackson?
“Jesus,” Cole said, “it’s like I’m trying to sneak you away from your father or something.”
Was that what it was?
No, not even close. She could do whatever she wanted. She could rebel, and do it with whomever she wanted—even if it was the main subject of her latest investigation . . . biker bad boy Cole . . .
Annica looked back at him as he’d gone to his bike, inspecting something on it. A bike without any helmets. A rebel without a cause.
He flashed her a smile and said, “You ready?”
Yes, she was ready. More than ready. It was time to move on, and she was going to do it in style.
She strode over, her thoughts on nothing but the night, the open road, escaping down it with Cole. Being bad with Cole.
“How do I . . . ?” She looked at the bike, not knowing even how to get on.
“Straddle it,” he said with a grin that had gone even more devilish. “You know how to do that, right?”
“Shut up.” She swung her leg over the seat and slid in behind him. She’d never been on a bike before and it almost felt scary sitting on top—even just parked there—until she reached forward for him, for stability, for his muscles.
“That’s it,” he said, “just hold on.” Cole stomped his leg through the kickstart and brought the engine to life, loud and vibrating all through their bodies.
The jig was up now. The bike was louder than she’d expected. What she expected next was to see everyone pour out of the house at any minute.
She tapped Cole’s shoulder and shouted, “Let’s go.”
The sudden movement made her grab a firmer hold of him, her arms locking around his torso as they got up to speed down the winding, oceanside road. Fuck, this was actually fun. Annica wanted to lean her head against his back. It seemed like a natural thing to do, holding him tight and resting her head against him as her hair blew around. It felt good being close again. He wasn’t driving fast enough to be scary, as she’d suspected he might have done. She’d had enough scares for one day, even with adventures she’d normally found fun. All she wanted now was a nice relaxing drive, and the promise of Cole, and privacy, at the end of it—wherever they were going.
Dark Salvation (DARC Ops Book 7) Page 14
