Irished (The Invincibles Book 7)

by Heather Slade

  “That’s the second time you’ve asked me a similar question. Why do you think you would be?”

  He kissed me again. “Because now that I’ve started, I don’t want to stop.”

  “I don’t want to stop either.”

  “Flynn…”

  “Whatever you have to say, we can talk about when we get to your cabin.”

  He put the truck in gear and drove away from the dining hall.

  When we got to the cabin, he cut the engine but didn’t open his door.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked.

  “I think so.”

  “Why aren’t you getting out of the truck?”

  “I want you to know that I meant what I said earlier. I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment I met you. I know it sounds like a line, but I felt an immediate connection.”

  “I felt it too.”

  Paxon turned to face me. “You did?”

  I nodded. “Can we go inside now?”

  He laughed. “Sure.” He opened the door, climbed out, and held out his hand. When I jumped down, he put a hand on either side of me and kissed me one more time before leading me inside.

  37

  Irish

  It had been a long time since I’d been with a woman, not that I had any intention of being with Flynn tonight. However, things had changed between us, and I needed to be mindful of what I now knew was her complete innocence.

  “Can I get you anything?” I asked.

  “Water would be nice.” She rubbed her arms.

  “Are you cold?”

  “A little chilly. I can start a fire if you’d like.”

  I thought about telling her I’d do it, but she’d probably been the one who put the logs in the fireplace to begin with.

  When I brought her water over, I saw she’d propped some of the pillows from the sofa onto the floor. I sat down beside her and watched the fire spread from the kindling to the logs.

  “Of all the cabins on the ranch, this has always been my favorite.”

  “Yeah? How come?”

  She shrugged. “I can’t really say. It’s just got a nice feel to it.”

  I put my arm around her and snuggled her close to me. “I’ve had a condo in DC for several years. I haven’t spent much time there for the last couple, but even before that, it never felt as warm and inviting as this place. Probably because you’ve made it feel that way.”

  I loved the way her cheeks turned pink whenever I complimented her.

  “Flynn, I need to tell you—”

  “Paxon, I swear to God, if you’re about to tell me we can only be friends again—”

  I cut her off with another kiss and then rested my forehead against hers. “No, sweetheart. That wasn’t what I was going to say.”

  “Anything remotely close to that?”

  I shook my head.

  “Okay, go ahead and say whatever it is.”

  “I told you earlier that things were going to be hectic for the next few days. As much as I know I’ll want to spend time with you, I may not have much of it to spare.”

  “You don’t have to explain. I understand.” She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed.

  “I feel like there’s something else you want to say.”

  “There’s a lot, actually.”

  I slid down so I was lying on the floor rather than sitting up, rested my head on the pillow, and brought Flynn with me. I kept my arm around her, and she turned and put her arm around my waist.

  “I’m ready to hear whatever you have to say, Flynn.”

  She took a deep breath. “I unloaded a lot of stuff on you earlier. I hope you aren’t feeling sorry for me.”

  I turned to face her. “I’m not. I promise.”

  “I’m sure you know my story already since it’s Buck’s story too, but my mother died when I was three years old.”

  “I did know that.”

  “My father never remarried, so I grew up with four brothers and a dad who didn’t seem to care whether I had a female role model. I wasn’t lying when I said I never wore dresses. The one I had on at the Flying R was the first one I ever owned.”

  “Is this the second?” I asked, running my fingers across its bodice.

  When Flynn shuddered, I moved my hand away. She put it back, and I smiled. “It’s the third. Actually, it’s one of many.”

  “Each one prettier than the one before it.” This time, instead of running my finger over the fabric, I touched her skin where the two met. Flynn leaned forward, and I kissed her, pulling her so her body rested on mine.

  “I’m too heavy,” she said, attempting to move away, but I wouldn’t let her.

  “You’re perfect.”

  She lowered her gaze. “I’m the furthest thing from it.”

  I put my finger on her chin and raised her face so I could see her eyes. “You’re perfect,” I repeated. “Every part of you is. Not just your beautiful face.” I touched her lips with my finger. “Or your body that makes me want to hold it next to me whenever I’m with you.” I trailed my fingers along her dress like I had a minute ago and then rested my hand just below her shoulder. “This is the most beautiful part of all. I knew as soon as I met you that you had a kind heart.”

  “I felt the same about you.”

  “Sometimes, I wonder if there’s anything left of mine.”

  She put her hand on my left pec. “It’s whole, Paxon.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Same way you’re sure mine is kind.” She rested her head on my chest. “Tell me about your life before this mission.”

  It was hard to remember there was a “before,” and I said so. “My life before I joined the CIA was pretty dull. My dad died when I was eight. My mom died not long after I graduated from college. No brothers or sisters, not even cousins.”

  “Did you have a lot of friends in school?”

  “Nah. I was more of a loner.”

  “Like me, although probably for a different reason.”

  “I’ve never been much of a talker. People probably figured I was an asshole, so they didn’t bother trying to get to know me.”

  “Seems like you have a lot of friends now.”

  “Friends? I don’t know about that. Work colleagues.”

  “What about Cope?”

  I laughed. “I guess he’s my friend. Although, when I first met him, I couldn’t stand him.”

  “Tell me why.”

  We talked until well past midnight, only stopping every so often to get lost in more kisses. Every time she said she should go, I held her tight, not wanting her to leave. Finally, we both fell asleep.

  When I woke, the sun was coming up. Flynn’s back was to my front, and I had my arm around her waist. When I moved it, her eyes opened and she stretched.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “Almost six.”

  I expected her to say she had to rush off, but she smiled up at me.

  “Do you know how much I wish I could spend the whole day with you? Tonight too?”

  “As much as I’d like to spend it with you, Paxon.”

  I held out my hand, she took it, and I pulled her to her feet. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but are you supposed to be at the dining hall?”

  She smiled and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Today is my day off.”

  I put my arms around her and groaned. “Now I really wish I could take the day off too.”

  She leaned up and kissed me. “It’s okay. I have plans this morning anyway.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m having breakfast with two friends in Gunnison.”

  I loved how pleased she sounded. “Who are they?”

  That question made her cheeks turn pink. “Nina and Lucy. They’re the ones who helped me pick out new clothes and fix my hair.”

  I brushed the wisps from her face, kissed each of her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and her lips. I stopped myself from continuing down the side of her neck, knowing then
I’d be starting something neither of us was ready for.

  “Do you think you’ll be working all night?” she asked.

  “I hope not, but it depends on how much we’re able to accomplish today.”

  “If you happen to quit early, maybe I could come over.”

  “I would love it. How late is early?”

  She laughed. “Text me when you’re finishing up, and if I’m still awake, that’ll be early.”

  When Flynn left, I climbed into the coldest shower I could stand. When I got out and looked in the mirror, I hardly recognized the man staring back at me. I’d so rarely seen him smile.

  “You’re in a good mood this morning,” said Ali, nudging me with her arm when I came out of the cabin and saw her and Cope waiting for me.

  “You can tell that just by looking at my face?”

  “Yep,” answered Cope. “Not to mention that when we got up, she looked out the window and saw Buck’s sister doing the walk of shame right after sunrise.”

  The smile left my face. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Settle down, Irish. I was just joking. Although, we did see her truck last night when we returned from the dining hall, so I don’t think you can get away with telling us she came by to drop something off this morning.”

  “She stayed over, okay? But nothing happened.”

  Ali put her arm through mine as we walked to the waiting SUV. “Either way, Irish. It’s none of our business. I’m just happy to see you happy.”

  Five minutes after we walked into the ranch house where we were scheduled to meet, every bit of happiness I’d felt was knocked out of me when I saw someone I’d expected even less than Saint.

  “What the fuck is Dr. Benjamin doing here?” I barked at Decker, whose head snapped up.

  “It was in the brief I sent this morning.”

  “I didn’t have a chance to read it.”

  He raised a brow.

  “I’ll do it now.” I sat at a table and opened my laptop. When I got done reading, I wasn’t any happier about Benjamin’s arrival than I had been when I saw him. It had been Saint who suggested he join us, and from what I read, the only person he’d cleared it with was Lynx.

  “I thought I was the lead on this part of the investigation.”

  “You are.”

  “Then why wasn’t I read in on it before it happened?”

  “That’s a question you’re going to have to ask for yourself.” Decker motioned with his head to where Lynx and Emme were standing. I stalked over to them.

  “A word,” I said to Lynx, also motioning to Saint. They both followed me out the door to the front porch.

  I spun around on them. “I don’t know what chain of command the two of you believe you’re operating under, but for this mission, I’m at the top. Everything that happens with it from here until it’s called, goes through me. In my absence, it goes through Stella. Are we clear?”

  “What’s this about?” asked Lynx.

  “Dr. Benjamin.”

  “What of him? The man is an MI6 asset.”

  “I don’t care if he’s the chief of MI6. You should’ve cleared it with me before bringing him here.”

  An SUV pulled up, and Doc Butler got out along with Razor Sharp and Gunner Godet. “Good morning, gentlemen,” said Doc, walking up to join us. The other two men went inside. “Anything you want to read me in on.”

  “Irish was just informing us we should’ve cleared Benjamin’s arrival through him,” said Saint.

  Doc turned to me. “That’s my fault. They cleared it with me. I apologize, Irish.”

  I was livid but nodded. “Is there anyone else you cleared?”

  The man looked contrite, which made me feel like an asshole.

  “Negative.” He turned to the other two men. “Lynx, Saint, would you please excuse us?”

  They went inside, leaving me alone with Doc.

  “Look, I’m sorry I snapped about Benjamin. The truth is, I hadn’t expected the two of them, either.”

  “Understood. Is there a problem you need to make me aware of?”

  “Negative.”

  “Irish, are you sure?”

  I had nothing to go on but my gut, and it could very well be that my reaction to Lynx, Saint, and Dr. Benjamin was a direct result of the part of the op that took place in Cambridge. Even my thinking Benjamin was one of the men I thought I saw in Hong Kong nine years ago could’ve been clouded by my experience with Lynx and Emme as well as the prejudice I’d felt against Saint since I’d first heard he was the agent being sent in by MI6.

  “I’m sure.”

  “If that changes, let me know.”

  I followed Doc inside. Before I could get much past the entrance, Cope intercepted me. “What is Dr. Benjamin doing here?” he asked.

  “I asked the same thing. Apparently, Lynx ran it past Doc, who approved him joining us.”

  “Why?”

  Before I could respond, Decker joined us and motioned back outside.

  “According to Doc, Saint believes Dr. Benjamin may be able to assist with our investigation—enough that it warranted bringing him here.”

  “Why didn’t either of them say that?” I didn’t expect an answer to my rhetorical question and didn’t get one.

  “What do you want to do?” Decker asked.

  “For now, he stays. If at any time I believe he shouldn’t, he’s gone. Same with Saint.”

  “Roger that,” said Decker.

  “Tell him about Hong Kong,” said Cope, nudging me.

  “That first mission, the one when Dingo, 337, and Julius were taken out. I saw two men right before the hit was carried out. It was from a distance, but I believe Dr. Benjamin was one of those men.”

  Decker nodded his head slowly. “In that case, perhaps the doctor is exactly where we want him.”

  38

  Irish

  We broke into four teams, each with a task list.

  Stella, Buck, and Rile focused on sorting through the stockpile of evidence her aunt had left her in a vault, in Tiffany’s no less.

  Burns, Doc, Gunner, and Razor centered their attention on Ming Shen-Lin and Nicholas Kerr along with Stanley Donofrio and Antoine Moreau, the two men who’d served on Interpol’s executive committee years ago when Kerr was president. Up until two days ago, Kerr had been the sole survivor of the four.

  Decker led a team made up of Lynx, Emme, Saint, and Dr. Benjamin. Their area of concentration was the current executive committee—Daniel Byrne, also recently deceased, Boris Antonov, and Chen Wang-Su aka Kim Ha-joon.

  My team—including Cope, Ali, and Money—concentrated our efforts on the man the Chinese government had recently granted permanent asylum, William “Xander” Harris.

  With the evidence Money was able to gather, we had a clear picture of the level and amount of intelligence he’d systematically released over the course of ten years. Just in sheer documentation, it numbered in the tens of thousands.

  Figuring out his motive wasn’t difficult. The boy who’d watched his father go off to two wars grew into a man whose father committed suicide outside a VA hospital after allegedly being denied treatment for a combination of Gulf War Syndrome and PTSD.

  That suicide took place one year before I first met Sumner Copeland at The Farm.

  Like with the deaths of the agents I’d been tracking, I sat back in my chair, closed my eyes, and offered a moment of reverent silence for the man, the soldier, the patriot—Herbert Harris. He’d proudly served his country, not once but twice, and his country let him down in his time of need. When tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, I didn’t try to hide them. Mr. Harris’ death was a tragedy like every other we were investigating.

  Ali reached over and put her hand on my arm. “Irish, are you okay?”

  I shook my head. “I just need a minute.” When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Flynn walking from the dining hall to another entrance that led into the main house. “Excuse me.”

  I p
ushed back my chair, stood, and went outside, hoping I’d catch her.

  “Hey, Paxon,” she said, turning to look when I approached.

  “Hi, Flynn. How was breakfast?”

  She studied me. “It was nice. Rough morning?”

  I nodded, unable to speak. When I reached for her, she wrapped her arms around my waist and gave me the hug I so desperately needed—not just today, but hundreds of times over the course of the last few years. She held me so tight, as though she knew exactly how to comfort me, even without knowing why I needed it. I lost track of how long we embraced, outside where it could be witnessed by everyone meeting in the main room of the house as well as anyone going in and out of the barn or dining hall. When I looked into her eyes, she didn’t seem embarrassed or uncomfortable as I feared she might.

  “Thank you.” I leaned forward and brushed her lips with mine.

  “Anytime, Paxon. It brings me as much comfort as it does you.”

  I rested my forehead against hers. “So wise beyond your years.”

  “I don’t know if it’s wisdom or instinct.”

  “Both.” I kissed her one more time. “I hate to say this, but I should get back in there.”

  “If you need another one of those, you have my number.”

  “Yeah, if I call, you’ll come just to give me a hug?”

  “Every time.”

  No one looked up when I came inside, not even Ali. When I pulled my chair out and sat beside her, she glanced in my direction.

  “I really like her,” she whispered.

  “So do I.”

  “Hey, Irish,” I heard Razor say from across the room. “Can you come take a look at this?”

  I bent over his laptop, looking at a blurry image of two people. Beside it, was a gravestone. I read the inscription indicating the deceased had only lived to be twenty-five years old. “Stephen Kerr?”

  “Nicholas Kerr’s only son,” answered Burns.

  “According to what Razor found, he was killed in action during the Gulf War,” said Gunner, turning to Doc.