Frost Security: The Complete 5 Books Series

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Frost Security: The Complete 5 Books Series Page 85

by Glenna Sinclair


  Unfortunately, I’d completely forgotten about my trying to kiss Matthew. Or that I’d agreed to go see Uncle Zeke with him.

  Chapter Fifteen – Matthew

  “Yes, sir,” I said, nodding and wincing as I spoke into my phone, “I know I fucked up. I know I fucked up royally, sir.”

  “This is about the goddamned pack, Jones!” Peter yelled into my ear from all the way outside of town. “Do you realize what kind of goddamned damage you could caused? What kind of attention you could have brought down on us? We have rules for a goddamned reason! Rules that are there for our protection!”

  It was too damned early for this. I still had to be out to pick up Rebecca in just an hour and a half, and I still hadn’t showered or even had my coffee. And, like I’d told her, it was going to be a long, long day ahead of us.

  I winced again. “I know, sir. I know we have them for a reason, sir.”

  This was my first ass chewing from Peter. Even though he was my boss and my alpha, he’d always been pretty mild-mannered. I mean, of course I’d dropped the ball every now and then, but that had been at the agency, where I’d screwed up a case or said the wrong thing to a client.

  Never anything serious.

  Never anything like this.

  The worst part? I knew I deserved every ounce of Peter’s ire.

  “And right now this is the last goddamned thing we need, Jones!”

  I swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”

  I heard the sound of heavy breathing on the other line, like Peter had been out jogging all morning before he heard the news, then he’d run to a quiet place so he could get his screaming out.

  All this really took me back to the military, to my first big fuck-up. I’d nearly walked us into an ambush in the mountains of Afghanistan. I saw a break in the rocks, and I slipped right through them without checking. Nothing was on the other side, of course. But my lieutenant made sure I knew why moving forward without recon was a bad idea, about how the obvious passage could have been booby trapped, or a sniper could have been set up on the other side. I’d been a greenhorn back then, and I hadn’t known any better. All the guys, afterwards, let me know that the lieutenant was just looking out for us. That his job was to get us home at the end of our deployment in one piece, and not one moment earlier or later. Because if it was early, that meant we were going with a flag draped over us.

  This, though, was worse. Because I wasn’t a greenhorn. I was a veteran, I’d been a shifter all my life. I’d been special goddamn forces. I’d parachuted into enemy territory, and rescued pilots from cliffs, valleys, and canyons in the worst weather imaginable, all under heavy fire from enemy combatants. And who had busted me and taken pot-shots at my furry ass? An old lady with a goddamned shotgun.

  Not that she’d hit me, of course. But the shame was still real.

  Shame that I’d let down my alpha, that I’d let down my pack, and, even more so, that I’d pushed Rebecca away the night before.

  “Goddammit, Jones,” Peter said, his almost normal now. “I’m just more disappointed than anything. What the hell were you thinking?”

  I took a deep breath and weighed whether or not I should tell him about Rebecca being my mate. Chances are, he already knew. Shifters, we changed a little when we found our mate, even if we hadn’t fully joined with them. Something just awoke within us, and all the other shifters seemed to be able to ferret it out just by a look or a smell.

  “Well?”

  No, I thought, I needed to be honest with him. I needed to be forthright and upfront, own up to my mistake, but let him know that I couldn’t handle this case without distraction or prejudice.

  My mouth suddenly dry, I swallowed hard again. “I found her, sir,” I said. “I found my mate. It’s Rebecca Stokes.”

  A sharp exhalation through Peter’s nose sounded like a wind tunnel in my ear. “Figured that out, huh?”

  “You knew?” I asked before I could stop my self. “Yeah, of course you knew. You always know, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. We always know. Is that where you were when the old lady took her shot?”

  I nodded on reflex even though I knew he couldn’t see my gesture. “Yeah, I was right outside her window. I knew I shouldn’t have followed the scent, especially when I realized it was inside town, but it was just so strong. Something in my brain just kicked right in and took over.”

  He chuckled. “It does that. You can keep the wolf under control for only so long.”

  We sat in silence for a moment, the void of sound growing like some ominous orb or cancer as we each waited for the other to speak first. Finally, I decided, I was going to do it. I was going to speak first, tell him I was taking myself off the case.

  “You’re still on the case,” Peter said before I could even open my mouth.

  “But, sir–”

  “I don’t care how close you are to the client. This case isn’t about her, it’s about her uncle, and now all this Florentino shit going on and what the bartender told you about them moving their business into town. I want this town protected, and I need the mob out of here if we’re going to do that. And you, Matt, are the only one I’ve got on my payroll that’s qualified as a fire investigator.”

  “But–”

  “No goddamned buts. You’re it. You’re our one guy, and I can’t have you flaking out on me because you have personal feelings for your client. I expect you to keep it at least somewhat professional from here on out. No midnight goddamn stalkings. Got it?”

  I nodded into the phone, a slow smile beginning to grow on my face. “Got it, sir. No midnight stalkings.”

  “No howling at the end of her street, either.”

  “Yes, sir. Hear you loud and clear.”

  “Good. Now, get back to your morning. I want to know any updates you have later today.”

  We both hung up, and I stuffed the phone back in my pocket. My day ahead was a mixed bag of sorts. On one paw, I was looking at a long drive ahead of me. Over eight hours in the car, round trip. On the other, though, I was going to be making that drive with Rebecca. My mate.

  Of course, on the one hind-paw, she was probably still pissed at me from the night before. Even if she had been mumbling my name in her sleep.

  But, on the final paw, I didn’t care. Even if she was angry with me, that still meant I got to see her.

  I’ll say this about being a shifter: having four paws to properly look at a situation definitely had its advantages.

  Chapter Sixteen – Rebecca

  The flashes of memory seemed to emerge like some sort of loathsome beast from the fog of the night before, a huge, hairy thing that was all teeth and talons as it lumbered out of my drunken memory. I stood in the bathtub, the hot water from the showerhead beating down on my face, my mouth open in surprise, my eyes squeezed tightly shut.

  I’d kissed Matthew Jones.

  I’d thrown myself at him, almost literally, and dragged his lips down to mine in my drunken state. And, when he’d pulled back from my kiss, I’d yelled at him and slammed the door in his face before I retreated inside like a spoiled toddler throwing a hissy fit. Disgusted with myself, I shampooed my hair and rinsed my body over and over, trying to wash the embarrassment away.

  Never again. No more drinking. I didn’t care if it was my vacation, or not, I was never doing that to my body or the people around me. Never, ever, ever again.

  After I toweled off and brushed my teeth, I headed into the kitchen for some coffee, dressed only in shorts and a cropped t-shirt. It was just before eight in the morning, and I couldn’t believe I’d slept in so late. During the school year, I was up by five-thirty most days, bustling around the house and slurping down coffee.

  A knock came at the front door as I put the half-and-half back in the fridge.

  “Who could that be?” I mumbled. I’d already paid the newspaper boy his two dollars for the weekly delivery subscription. He’d been chasing me all over town for it for days.

  “Rebe
cca?” Matt’s voice called from outside as he knocked again. “You awake?”

  My mouth dropped open. What was he doing here so early in the morning? Was he here to demand an explanation for my childish, forward actions? I wracked my brain for any plausible reason, when it finally hit me. How could I have forgotten I’d agreed to accompany him to see Uncle Zeke?

  My hair was still slightly wet and I hadn’t even bothered to put on real clothes today. At least my head didn’t hurt anymore, even if the world did do that weird, wavy delay you always got with a gnarly hangover.

  “Rebecca?” he called again.

  I nearly ran out of the kitchen and to the front door, calling, “Just a minute!” I got to the door, unlocked the deadbolt, and pulled it open. “I’m so sorry! I completely forgot about this morning!”

  There he was, standing there in all his blonde glory, his bicep-defining chambray button down tucked loosely into tight, well-fitting slacks that tickled the imagination in such a wonderful way. “Sleep late?” He gave me a small smile that almost looked like a smirk.

  I sighed. “A little,” I admitted as I tried to flick a damp lock of hair out of my face. “Did we really agree to eight?”

  “You were a little tipsy,” he said, his eyes glancing down my body, pausing at my bare midriff, and settling on my barely covered legs. “But you seemed on board with it, so I just went with the flow. You going to be up to it? It’s a long drive.”

  I suddenly felt very self-conscious. Here I was, standing in front of a handsome, tough firefighter, with a smile that lit up a room, and all I had on was a pair of shorts and an old, cropped college tee. And, even worse, it was in plain sight for all the neighbors to see.

  “Why don’t you come in?” I asked, stepping back. “If Gladys looks out her front door, she’s going to think something’s up.”

  “No, I can just wait in the truck. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Get in here, Matthew.” I rolled my eyes as he chuckled and slid past me. I shut the door behind him. “I’ll be just a minute. Make yourself at home. There’s some coffee in the kitchen that’s fresh.”

  “I’m fine,” he said as I turned and headed back to the bedroom. “Had plenty already.”

  “Suit yourself,” I told him as I closed the bedroom door. “If you change your mind, though, the mugs are right above the coffee pot.”

  I figured that since all my teaching outfits were just about the level of business casual, they would be the best fit for visiting my godfather in prison. Still struggling to believe that phrase had actually entered my life, I began to pull out some work clothes, a flowy top and a nice pair of slacks, and lay them on the bed. I went back over to the bedroom door and cracked it open a little. “Going to warn you, I still need to do my face. It’s going to be a minute.”

  “Take your time,” he said from the living room. “But not too much. I want to get there by at least early afternoon.”

  I finished drying my hair in my bathroom and dressed as quickly as I could. Fully clothed, I sat down at my vanity to do my makeup. The whole time, I was wondering how I’d broach the subject of what happened last night. I’d made a complete ass of myself, and a solution to this little pickle of a problem hadn’t exactly presented itself. Worst of all? My memory of his phantom lips on mine, in my dream no less, were as real as ever.

  I’d do anything to feel his arms around me again, to feel his soft mouth pressed against mine just one more time. Just thinking back on it sent a tingly warmth through my body, one that I desperately tried to ignore.

  “Rebecca,” I sternly reminded myself in the mirror, “no more of this shit. Hear me? You made a big enough fool of yourself last night, no reason to make it worse. Just remember, you need to keep this professional. Maybe, after everything’s said and done, you can ask him out for a drink.” I paused and licked my unpainted lips. “Scratch that. Dinner. You probably shouldn’t drink around him. Not for a while at least, or maybe ever.”

  A little while later, I was smoothing down the front of my outfit as I stepped out into the hallway, the heels of my flats clicking on the tile. “Ready?” I asked.

  He was perched on the edge of my loveseat, phone in hand, and he looked up at me with a mixture of shock and, I don’t know, something else. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

  “Matthew?” I asked, carefully closing the bedroom door behind me. “You okay?”

  He shook his head, like he was trying to put some sense back in it, and stood up. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “Do I look alright?” I asked, walking into the living room. Just a few feet separated us now, and I had to hold back my competing urge to both apologize for the night before, and to try and recreate it.

  He nodded as his eyes traveled over me and my outfit. “Yeah, you look great.”

  “Don’t think it’s too much?” I asked, smoothing down the front of my green top. “I’m just, I don’t know, I’m nervous about going down there. It’s not every day you have to go to prison to visit the man who raised you.”

  He took a step toward me. “I know, it’s tough. And seems weird. But, believe me, we’ll get him out of there. Just be patient. Cases like this take time to unravel, and there’s a process. We’re only a couple steps in.”

  I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and exhaled through my mouth. “I know. It’s just hard. Everything just seems out of whack. Like the world’s been flung off its axis and has gone off-kilter.”

  He nodded. “Well, you’re right, it has. Someone’s taken a big swipe at your life and knocked you right off your feet. It’s okay to feel upset and disoriented with everything going on. Most people do. Remember, that’s why you hired Frost Security. Fixing things is what we do.”

  I looked up at him and gave him a tight smile. “Thanks, Matthew. For everything so far.”

  “Oh, I haven’t done anything. Not yet.”

  Chapter Seventeen – Matthew

  We were three hours into the uncomfortably silent drive when I finally spoke up. “About last night,” I began, my voice trailing off as my mind suddenly went blank.

  Rebecca cleared her throat a little uncomfortably. “About last night…” she said in a small voice.

  Oh, for Pete’s sake. I’d just spent the last two hundred miles crafting a whole speech, one that carefully, cautiously explained the minefield I was tiptoeing through by being here in this pickup with her. About how I did really like her, about how her embrace had just taken me by surprise, but that we had strict rules against fraternizing with clients or becoming romantically entangled during a case.

  Even though, of course, my three coworkers had all pretty much flat-out broken that rule.

  And now, here I was, struck mute with the woman of my dreams, when my whole life I’d been able to talk to women like it was just walking to me. Whole damn speech had gone right out the window.

  “About last night…” I repeated before licking my suddenly dry lips. If this kept up, I was going to have to invest in some Chapstick.

  “I’m so sorry,” we both said in unison. We looked at each other for as long as I could manage while still driving safely. “You go first,” we both said in chorus.

  She laughed as I grinned and turned my eyes back to the road. “Sorry,” I said again. “You go first.”

  “No, no,” she protested. “You were the one who spoke first. You get to go first.”

  “I don’t think this is a ‘get to go’ situation, now is it?”

  She smiled at me, those perfectly white and even teeth of hers a slash of white against her light red lips. God, she was beautiful. If I’d had an English teacher that looked like her, I might have actually paid attention when we were reading The Great Gatsby. “Well,” she said, “just tell me what you want to tell me.”

  I nodded, took a deep breath. “Okay. About last night.”

  “Yeah, you might have mentioned that that’s what this was about.”

  I chuckled and shook my head. “About the kiss la
st night, then? How about that?”

  “Better.”

  “I’m not going to lie, I liked it. I really liked it.”

  “So did I.”

  “But it can’t happen again while I’m working your case, okay? We have rules in place for a reason, and I already broke one by giving you a ride home from the Elk last night.”

  She shook her head. “No, I get it. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, um, attacked you like that.”

  I nodded. “I would like to take you out afterwards, though, if I may be forward. After all this is said and done.”

  She smiled, her eyes twinkling a little in the reflective rays blasting at us from the highway ahead. “I don’t think you can get more forward than I was last night.” She laughed in slight embarrassment. “But, yes, Matthew. That would be lovely.”

  “Just no shots, okay?”

  She chuckled. “Believe me, you’re not going to get any argument. I felt enough like Humpty Dumpty this morning that I’m surprised I was able to put myself back together again. So, agreed, no shots. And that’s fine if we have to wait.”

  “Did you still want to say something?” I asked with a little laugh.

  “You know, I think you’ve covered it just fine.”

  I touched her hand where it lay on the center console. She slipped her much smaller fingers into mine and entwined them tightly. And we drove like that the whole way to the Colorado State Pen.

  It was one of the best damn car rides of my life.

  Chapter Eighteen – Rebecca

  Something about the way our hands seemed to interlock was inexplicable and magical. This time two days ago, it was like I’d been at the bottom of a deep, dark well. Only a small circle of sky was visible overhead. My voice had been hollow and full of echoes in the intense loneliness of what I’d been experiencing as my world came crumbling down around me.

  Forty-eight hours later, though?

  The world was right. The world was almost perfect. I didn’t know how to explain it, but even with a conspiracy by some organized crime family swirling around me, my Uncle Zeke, and my hometown, I just couldn’t do anything but feel at ease in my heart. All the anxieties about the future had begun to settle, to drift away as I slowly began to emerge from the deep cistern I’d been imprisoned in by the circumstances of life.

 

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