Suds and Sam For Hire

by Stella Marie Alden

  Ah ha. So he has been stalking me on social media. I feel bad about hurting him but he was the one who cut open my heart and left it to bleed. Do I dare tell him the truth? I don’t want to appear overly eager. He made me wait six hours so I do the same.

  Chewing on a Cobb salad at my desk, I text him back.

  Me: Old photos.

  He’ll know I was trying to hurt him but I’m willing to take the risk. He must know I was lashing out. Surprisingly, my phone pings almost immediately.

  Suds: Congrats. It worked.

  This is my fault? Hell no.

  Me: You left me

  Suds: For your own good

  Me: You broke my heart.

  I want to add, I can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t think. I cry all day and into the night and yet the pain won’t abate. I’m a big fucking mess. I swear to God, I will never fall in love again.

  Suds: Sorry

  That’s it? He’s sorry?

  Me: Dammit Suds, I <3 U.

  I hold back typing I will do anything you say if you’ll only give us another try. Good thing we’re not on the phone because I’m sure I would’ve blurted out those exact words.

  He doesn’t answer right off so I figure I blew it.

  In the ladies room, I blow my nose, splash cold water on my face, then reapply makeup. My face is still bright red as I rush back into my office and hide behind my monitor.

  Hopefully, no one will see me.

  When my phone blings, I almost hate to look.

  Suds: I love you, too.

  Me: Can we talk?

  Suds: Working. Tonight?

  Me: Seven? My time?

  Suds: Y

  Me: K

  Chapter 33

  Suds

  Parked in front of Parliament, I keep a watchful eye on the door where the House of Lords exit. The voting over, the threats on his life should stop and I’ll be sent home.

  When the first sun I’ve seen in days peeks through the clouds, I join a few of the other chauffeurs as they climb out of their vehicles to get a bit of vitamin D.

  Chad, closest to my Hummer, eyes me while I text. “Girl trouble, wot?”

  I shrug and stare up at the clearing sky, hoping he’ll get the hint to mind his own business.

  Instead, he walks up the curb, waits for me to look his way, and winks. “Take it from a man who’s been married thirty years. If you find the right one, best to keep her. There aren’t enough good ones to go around. Know what I mean?”

  Maybe, I’m starting to get a clue. “Honestly? I’m no good for her.”

  “Who of us are?” His voice is loud enough for all to hear. “We’re bloomin’ nobs without a good woman behind us, isn’t that right, gents?”

  “Shut up.” The Prime Minister’s chauffeur, double parked to the right, glares.

  Another driver, buffing the hood of a pristine Royals Royce, points his chamois at the grouch. “You’re only mad because your missus made you sleep on the couch.”

  Ignoring those two, my self-appointed best friend elbows me. “You love her, eh?”

  “It’s complicated.” When my thumbs pause over my cell’s keyboard, he takes this as an invite to step closer and glance over my shoulder.

  Quickly, I change screens and show him her picture.

  “Bloody hell. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He grabs my phone and he walks it around so the other drivers can give me grief.

  “Stop.” I hold my hands high in the air. “I get it. I made a big mistake but I have no fucking idea how to fix it.”

  Chad punches me in the arm. “Tell her you’re sorry, yank. Women love that shit. You need some poetry, some flowers, and chocolates. Maybe some balloons.”

  The Prime Minister’s chauffeur snorts, crosses his arms, and leans against his vehicle. “You watch too much, Oprah. Bleeding hearts, all of you.”

  I can’t help but agree as I picture Sam in her FBI office with a helium balloon tied to a pink candy box. “She’d prefer a few lessons in armed combat or a membership to a gun range.”

  “Then give it to her, sonny, before it’s too late.” This comes from a former MI-6 in his sixties with piercing blue eyes.

  With too much time to kill, the men discuss my pathetic love life as I check my emails. Suds and Sam’s Detective Agency is full of potential clients and it gets me thinking. If I could only convince her to go back to the city, we’d have plenty of jobs. We could even hire a few guys to help us out.

  There’s another message, as well. In it, Slate says my lawyer managed to retrieve my PI license. Everything is primed and ready to go except for Sam.

  Perhaps, I’ll have to give her more freedom but not until she’s better trained. In addition, she needs to promise to be a hell of a lot more cautious. With a little luck, we’ll forgive each other, and work things out.

  I’m willing to give it a try, but is she?

  My thoughts cease when the back door of the building opens. Eyes alert for potential risks and in unison with the other drivers, I open the back door of my bulletproof vehicle,

  “Sebastian, to the pub please.” Lord Collins opens his laptop in the back seat, I drive the short distance, and walk with him into his favorite watering hole.

  Standing at the bar, my phone buzzes, and I pick up.

  “Suds? Is that you?” Her tentative voice breaks my fucking heart.

  I don’t want her feeling uneasy talking to me and as much as I want to explain, I need to stay alert. “Sugar, I’m on the job. Can I call you back in the morning? Sorry, darlin’ but… Shit!”

  A shifty-eyed man steps through the door with one hand inside his lapel. If body language could speak, it would say, I’m a god-dammed mother-fucking assassin.

  “Gun! Get down! Everyone.” I leap onto the nearest table, crystal and silverware flying. Women in pearls and diamonds screech. Men in suits shout and either cower or cover their loved ones with their bodies.

  Careening off the side of the bar, I shove my charge on the shoulders and roll him to the floor.

  Simultaneously, the man fires a shot which lodges into the wood right above our heads.

  “Let’s go. There may be another.” I grab Lord Collins by the arm, run him into the kitchen, and out a back door leading into a narrow alley.

  Slipping over wet cobblestones, we dash straight through an Indian restaurant. With curry heating our lungs, we pass sizzling grills, sitting patrons, and out into the next street, the next block over.

  While the famous noble calls the police, I check up and down the street, then hail a cab. Once we’re safe, I remember I was on a call with Samantha.

  The green icon indicates she’s still there. “Hello?”

  “Suds. Are you alright? Was that a gun I heard?”

  “I could tell you but then I’d have to kill you.”

  Lord Collins gives me a stern look but I just shrug and mouth the word, girlfriend.

  “Be serious.” Sam’s voice comes down an octave as we make our way to Scotland Yard.”

  “I am. Until I speak with the detectives here, I need to keep quiet.”

  “Did anyone get hurt?”

  “You wound me yet again.”

  “Were you? Shot? Oh my God, they did, didn’t they?”

  “Sweetheart, no. Some guy walked into the restaurant, I didn’t like his looks, and simply pushed my charge to the floor. The guy missed his shot and ran off. It was a walk in the park.”

  “Liar.”

  “Guilty. Can I call you back? I have no idea what time it will be… Samantha? I love you, I’m sorry as fuck, and will you take me back?”

  “I thought you’d never ask, ya big dope.”

  Smiling, I hang up. “Well, what do you know about that?”

  Collins grunts. “About time.”

  Chapter 34

  Sam

  When Suds doesn’t phone me right back, I take to pacing my room, the lobby, and around the hotel. Still no news, I change into my bathing suit and jog down the stairs t
o the pool.

  On the way, I watch the video taken by a London bartender. It starts with a man in a doorway reaching into his jacket. My tough guy shouts for everyone to get down. Then, the camera tilts to the ceiling and to the floor where we get a glimpse of Suds covering Lord Collins.

  Women scream, someone says gun, then nothing.

  Like I have for hours, I check for a text from Sebastian but there’s nothing. With about a gallon of coffee in me, my brain goes into hyper-drive.

  What am I going to do? Move back home? Will he come live with me in DC? Will we try to get our detective agency off the ground? Will he let me sleuth or keep me tethered to a desk? Why hasn’t he called? Did something else happen?

  The irony of the situation hits me and for the first time, I understand his over-protective nature. If this is what it feels like to worry about someone you love, it totally sucks.

  Argh! Arm over arm, I kick, praying my thoughts will settle. It’s not until a full hour later, my cell rings. Mid-lap, I swallow water, cough, and swim like mad to the side.

  Heart pounding, fingers prune-like, I reach for my phone and punch the speaker icon. “Hello?”

  Suds laughs. “You sound all out of breath. Running a marathon?”

  “I was working off some frustration in the pool. Are you okay?” Shivering, I jump out of the water and wrap a towel around my shoulders.

  “Sure, why?” His casual tone reminds me how he thinks this is a regular day. Meanwhile, I’ve been a wreck.

  “Nothing.” I’ve just been imagining the worst of scenarios while I wait for your call.

  “Swimming, huh? What’re you wearing?”

  In truth, I have on a modest one-piece but it’s time for a little payback. “A red bikini with strings at the thighs, the back, and behind the neck.”

  “Who else is with you?”

  “A couple of lonely business men.” I glance around the empty chairs and grin.

  “You’re pullin’ my leg, right?”

  “Nope. They asked me for a twosome.”

  “That would be a threesome. Show me. On your phone. Send me a picture.”

  “I can’t. They left.”

  “Busted.” When he chuckles, it’s like the last few weeks never happened. Still, I need to know he’s not injured, arrested, or being tortured in the Tower of London.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Scotland yard.”

  I sigh. “I suppose this means you’ll need to stay longer.”

  “No. Can you believe these guys? They want me gone? Someone took a video of a yank saving their asses and they’re afraid it will go viral.”

  “Actually, it already has.” I send him the link.

  “Damn, over ten million hits. You suppose Hollywood might be interested?”

  “I thought you said this job was easy-squeezy.” I wrap a towel around my hair.

  “It was.”

  “When are you coming home?”

  “The next flight out. First class, thanks to the UK. According to Slate, calls are pouring in from all over. They want yours truly, of course, to guard them.”

  My heart sinks. “Great.”

  “Hold, on, no crying, little lady. I told him we’re going to be busy for a while. We need to paint our office. Colonial white as I recall.”

  “Really? You still want to?” My lower lip quivers. Oh my God. He hasn’t given up on our dream.

  “Whatever you want, sunshine. Hell, I’ve missed you.”

  “Me too.”

  “You’ve missed you?

  “You know what I mean.”

  He chuckles. “I do.”

  “Careful. Those two words might get you in trouble.”

  “Anytime you’re ready, darlin’, any time.”

  After, we both keep it light. Sure, we got some work to do in the trust department but the discussion will have to keep until we’re face to face.

  Chapter 35

  Suds

  The flight from London to Dulles takes more than thirteen hours. I did try to catch some sleep over the Atlantic but I can’t relax while thinking of my woman in my arms again. I was such an idiot to let her go.

  Free from the long line at customs, I take long, fast strides into the waiting area and search for her unique mix of blond locks among the many heads.

  “Suds!” Sam waves, our eyes meet, and she ducks under the temporary barrier into my open arms.

  She presses into me and kisses me shamelessly until a female TSA officer taps me on the shoulder. “Move it along.”

  “Yes ma’am.” I put my arm around my woman and hold her tight down a long corridor filled with rental car kiosks.

  “How was your flight?” My girl stops and I lean over, inhaling her new, fruity shampoo.

  Her fingertips slide behind my neck and her body melds into me. Hell, I need to get her alone before I lose my ever lovin’ mind.

  I kiss her again until some jealous asshole shouts, “Get a room you two.”

  We don’t stop because neither of us give a shit. By the time we come up for air, her cheeks are red, her eyes bright, and her mouth swollen.

  Damned if my chest don’t get all tight at what I almost lost. “Sugar? How far away is your hotel?”

  “Maybe an hour.” Tugging on my hand, she glances at my knapsack and suit bag. “Is that all you have? Do we need to wait for your luggage?”

  “I’m good to go.” We follow the exit signs and an out-of-service rest room catches my eye.

  Fingers intertwined, I glance up and down the hall. Then, I knock. When no one responds, I pull her inside and latch the door. After dropping my bags, I press her into the wall with my mouth devouring hers.

  Not having been with her for weeks, blood flows, and my cock grows painfully hard while she squirms against me.

  At first, I thought we’d have us some heavy kissing but now the opportunity has presented itself, I’d be plain stupid to pass it up.

  While she unbuckles my belt, I pinch her chin and thrust my tongue in and out. She sucks in hard, I moan and slip my hands under her shirt. I tug a stretchy bra up and over her breasts, which fall into my desperately seeking palms.

  “Hell, I’ve missed you.” I caress her chest while her busy fingers unzip my jeans.

  I can’t breathe, can’t think. All I want is to be connected with my woman again, to claim what is mine, to make sure I didn’t break us so bad we can’t be mended.

  My hands leave her breasts and I slide them to behind neck, her hair tickling my knuckles. Tilting my head, I get a better angle for the kiss while I press my cock into her hand.

  My palm slips down her back, inside her stretchy leggings, and I squeeze her sexy ass.

  With one hand still fisted around me, she tugs down her pants, slides out of one leg, and spreads open for me.

  Tongues still fighting for dominance, my hand finds its way between her thighs and up to her wet want.

  She shivers, damn close to the big ‘O.’

  Hell no, I want her coming around me so unwrap her fingers in order to place my tip at her opening.

  Then I plunge deep into her sweetness and catch her screams with more kisses. I’m on fire. My heart’s pounding like a mother-fucker. My chest hurts with love and desire.

  “My God, girl. What you do to me.”

  When her feet clamp around the back of my thighs, I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  The door clunks as I bang into her so I move her to the corner because I’m comin’ and I’m coming hard.

  A finger to her nub is all it takes to set her off and hell if those tiny pulsings don’t take me all the way to God almighty. With a grunt and two more thrusts, I empty into her.

  I’m not sure how long we pant, forehead to forehead, both of our eyes closed.

  Eventually, I fall back to earth, kiss her cheek, and tuck myself in. “Be right back.”

  I run water over a paper towel until it’s soft, kneel, and wipe my seed off her while kissing her legs. She balan
ces on one foot so I can get her pants back on while nibbling her belly button.

  “I was sure stupid.” As I hug her around the waist she reaches for my hair, and tugs me to her lips where we kiss long and slow.

  “Yeah, you were but I was, too. Let’s agree, no matter what happens, not to leave. From now on we stay and fight it out.”

  “I guess you’re figuring we may have some stormy times ahead.”

  She grins and uses my line. “Damn straight.”

  Much later, in the back of the Uber, she gives me my comeuppance. “You shouldn’t have taken off and given me the silent treatment.”

  “I know, but in my defense, I couldn’t deal with you almost getting killed.”

  “But I wasn’t. That was all in your head. However, I have to admit. After yesterday, I’m beginning to understand what it’s like to worry, really worry, about the one you love.”

  “You were worried about me?” I chuckle. “You don’t need to, luv. This is what I do. Your Uncle Sam paid top dollar to train me.”

  Chapter 36

  Sam

  In the morning, I lay awake for the longest time watching Suds snooze and wondering what to do next.

  It’s easy enough to quit my job with the FBI because I’m a contractor, not a permanent employee. Because they wanted assurances I wouldn’t give, I held out for more money with better benefits. It’ll serve them right when I say goodbye but I’ll make sure not to burn any bridges.

  Munching on a peanut butter toast and drinking shitty hotel coffee. I call my older cousin and give her the good news.

  “Guess what? I’m coming home.” I speak softly so as not to rouse Sebastian but Rose squeals so loud she’ll wake the dead.

  “Oh my God! Really?”

  On the other end of the phone, Chloe yowls, glass crashes, and Mia scolds, “Bad kitty!”

  “I can’t believe you left the catastrophe with us.” Rose sighs as her sister pops her head into view on the video chat. “Frankie’s cat smashed two Virgin Marys and one crucifix.