Heroes In Uniform (22 page)

Whoopsie. Splish, splash. They were making a mess.

“Alrighty.” Nicola may have slurred that word. “Tell me again how this happened. How were there two teams on the same project?”

“Okay, the hot one—”

“What?” Nic recoiled, laughing. “Hot? Who?”

Beth grinned. “Well, they were all kinda hot.”

Nic shook her head, whipping her hair back and forth. “Um, no. No how, no way. One of them was my brother.”

“Nic, you’re a show-stopper. You don’t think your brother can be hot? Cause, girl, he is. But anyway.”

“Well, Jared’s
not
hot.”

“He is until he opens his mouth.”

“Maybe.” Yup, words definitely slurring. Hiccup and a laugh. Did Jared look hot on the rooftop? Eh, maybe… “But Cash’s hot-hot.”

Beth nodded, eyes wide open. “Hm-huh. Cash’s hot.” She took a long sip of her drink. “So you and him, huh?”

“Past tense.” Nic worked hard to enunciate her words. Her lips tingled.

“I’m totally cool with sloppy sec—”

“Beth, you—” She threw a balled up paper bag at her. “Off limits. You can’t have him.”

“Then I’ll take Roman.”

“Ew.” She wrinkled her nose.

“Jared’s too mean.”

Nicola agreed. “Amen to that. Who does he think he is?”

“You should talk to Cash. Tell him what you’re thinking, feeling.” Beth ditched her straw and swallowed the rest of her drink. “What will it hurt?”

Don’t say anything.
Nicola repeated the thought two more times. It didn’t work. In wine—or at least vodka—there was truth. “He doesn’t know me anymore.”

“Get to know him again.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You never want to. What’s the deal, anyway? That tech guy was flirting with you a few weeks ago. But he was a no-go. I know for a fact that analyst Bill or Bob or whatever asked you out. And don’t forget your FBI bomb tech. He
was
—probably still
is
—completely obsessed with you. He’s inhaled too many fumes if you ask me.” She giggled. “I get paid to know these things.”

“All those men are boring. But Cash… that’s complicated.”

“Nope. It’s really easy. If it gets serious, I have a form you can fill out. Same form you filled out when dating your—”

Her phone buzzed. It was her roommate—talk about timing—and she sent the call to voicemail. “We were never serious, and I didn’t fill out paperwork.”

“It’s simple. It says I’m sleeping with what’s-his-name and promise not to divulge national secrets during pillow talk. Oh, and I give my handler permission to pillage through his personal life without him knowing.”

“I’ve worked so-o-o hard to get here.” Yup, too many Os in that so. Very professional. Oh well. “I want them to respect me.” Respect sounded funny. She mouthed the word a couple of times.

“Them?”

“All the men we work with.” She tried to mouth respect again. It still felt off.

Beth pulled her hair back into a ponytail. “They do respect you.”

“No, they don’t. They all think women at the Agency want to be saved by a man, whether we know it or not. That they’re supposed to be our superhero saviors, and I’m just waiting to see who gets to save me. Everything’s a game.” She shook her head, slurring her words together. “This is probably a game. You aren’t my best friend, but some analyst doing a psychological, behavioral workup on me right now. Shit, this will end up in my file.”

“Nope. Promise.”

She laughed, shaking a finger at her handler. “I don’t believe you, Miss Beth-the-Handler.”

“Pinky-swear. Nothing leaves these walls.” Nicola shot her a look. “Nothing’s transmitting from these walls. How about that?”

“Hmm, maybe a little better.”

“How about this? In January, I totally had a thing with Michael.”

“Oh my God. He’s our boss. He’s your boss. He’s like super-duper, everyone’s boss. And, have mercy, he is so hot.”

“Right?”

Nicola nodded like her head was on marionette strings. “I can’t believe you never told me!”

“And I didn’t report it.”

Nicola finished the last sips in her plastic cup. “We should have found bigger cups. These little drinks go too fast.”

“Or we’re drinking too much.”

“I don’t know. I think we’re drinking the right amount, given my day. Pink this time, please.”

Beth topped off her vodka. At least Nic’s hiccups were gone. That was a bonus.

Nicola took a sip. “Okay, my confession. I don’t want to leave my job. I love it. Yeah, you can note that part in my file, please. But Cash doesn’t see it. He doesn’t know that me. And if I fall in love with him all over again, and he hates this me, I won’t be able to take it.”

“That’s ridiculous, Nic.”

It might be, but it was her fear. She took a huge suck on her straw. Pink might be a little better. Sweeter. “He loved college me. I liked me then too, but now I’m run-around-the-world-with-a-gun me.” A quick gasp of a hiccup made her squeak. “Damn it!”

Beth laughed then snorted.

Nicola pointed. “I heard that!”

They both laughed. Another snort. Another hiccup. More laughing.

Nicola’s phone rang. Beth wagged her eyebrows. “Maybe it’s Cash.”

She focused on the numbers on the screen. “Nope. Jared.”

“He’s hot too. Let me answer.” Beth reached for the phone. “Everyone’s hot. Is that the only word we know? Hot.” She made a face, twisting her lips. “That sounds funky. Hot. Hawt. Hottt.”

“No.” Nic batted Beth away, hiccupped, and answered, serious face on. “Yes, hello?”

Beth fell on the floor, laughing. Her drink spilled. Nicola hiccupped, covering her mouth with her palm to hide her own giggle.

Jared grumbled. “Nicola?”

Beth snorted. Nicola tried, but couldn’t stop laughing. “Hold on one minute.” She put the phone in her lap, two fingers to her mouth to shush Beth, and tried again. Serious face back on. “Yes, hello?”

Was that a British accent? Beth ran toward the bathroom, shouting something about peeing on herself.

“Nicola, what the hell is going on?”

“Nothing.” Yes, her I’m-very-sober voice featured a British woman with a nasal problem. “Can I help you, Jared?”

“Have you been drinking?”

“Have you been drinking, Jared?” Oh no. Why had that come out?

“Good Christ.”

“Did you need something? I have something on the stove.”
What? The stove?
“And must go.” The last part came out with a definite accent. Beth came out of the bathroom just in time to hear her. She doubled over, wiping at the tears running down her cheeks.

“Titan’s having a cookout tomorrow night, which you’re invited to. But I’m changing it to a retreat. We’ve got shit to work out. Be there. Bring a bag. You’ll have a room. I’ll text you details.”

Oh, that was sobering. “What?”

“Be a good little princess, finish your cocktail, and get a good night’s sleep. We start work tomorrow.”

Nicola hung up. Beth wiped the last of her tears. “What’s Mister Hot-and-Grumpy want?”

“I have to spend the night with Cash.”

“What? He said
what
?”

“Um, well.” Nicola’s thoughts waffled. Beth erupted into a laughing, snorting mess. Nicola smirked and poured another drink. “This is an emergency. Stop laughing. He said I have to stay with Titan this weekend. Under the same roof as Cash.”

“You two should totally hook up.”

“No way! I have to be professional. I have to prove to him that I can do my job.” Prove sounded more like proof, maybe poof, but Beth didn’t seem to notice.

“He’s so hot.”

“Beth, you aren’t listening.”

“And you’re whining. Hot guy may or may not have feelings for you. Same hot guy was in love with you once upon a time.”

“He loved someone else. Not me.”

“Blah.” Beth tossed her hand like it was no big deal.

Nicola smiled. Maybe she was making too much out of it. Maybe she needed more girls’ nights. “We need to get out more.”

“We need to do this more.”

“Deal.” She took another swig. “I have no idea what I’m going to wear.”

“Bring something lacy. You never know.”

Hiccup. This retreat had the potential for serious mistakes.

Garrison’s Creed
: Chapter Ten

Nicola had sleepover anxiety. Spending another night under the same roof as Cash would be hazardous to the uninterested, uber-professional charade she was trying to pull off. But here she was, next to a chilled out Cash in the too-tight confines of his heavy duty pickup truck, on the way to the cookout-turned-retreat.

“We’re here,” Cash mumbled to himself, barely audible.

They rumbled off the paved driveway, veering away from a large, up-lit white house, and rolled onto a beaten path in the grass. In the distance, a raging bonfire danced in the night. Several trucks and SUVs were backed toward the fire on one side. Nic assumed the black abyss was the lakeshore that Cash mentioned. Laughter and good times drifted through his pickup’s cracked windows.

Her overnight bag shifted as the truck bounced down the road, reminding her again that she’d be caged with him around her new co-workers.
Please don’t let them see me as just another girl he’s bagged.

Cash’s cowboy hat was pulled low over his shaggy blonde hair, hiding his eyes from her. Nicola glanced in his direction any time he looked off the road, but mostly, she sat in silence, not trusting her voice to not give away the spark that flared each time he gave a not-so-innocent smile or whoops-I-meant-to-do-that touch. He made her dizzy. She placed a hand on the oh-shit
bar.

“I’m not
driving
that
bad, Nic.”

If he wanted to believe holding herself in place had to do with his off-road driving, fine by her. Whatever kept him from knowing too much.

She tried for another deep breath. Every time Cash looked at her, it sucked the wind out of her lungs, and whoosh, the words out of her brain. How was this going to go down in front of the Titan boys? Um, bad. Very bad.

She needed a beer.

Cash turned down the radio, shushing George Strait and his song du jour about lost love. “You’ve been awfully quiet. You lost in that pretty head of yours, daydreaming about something?”

Um, yeah. You. Maybe I need two beers.
“Just thinking.”

“Right.” He eased up on the gas, and they crawled toward the massive bonfire. “Yeah, me too. Just a thinkin’.”

“About?”

He stretched. His shirt might well have been painted on. “Just thinking that I’m down for a few drinks and some barbeque. But I’m worried that, put a little booze in us, and we’re going to face off again. Our little bout with Roman probably had more to do with the Jack Daniel’s than it did with us wanting to clue our boy in about us.”

“Then you should air your grievances with me now.” She smoothed her wrinkle-free shorts for the fifth time in as many minutes.

“Actually, not sure my issue is a grievance.” He stared at her, big blue eyes locking onto her before looking ahead.

“Oh.”
Oh?

“You’re breathtaking, you know that?”

Nicola felt her cheeks heat, and she looked out the window. Cash pulled the truck off the worn path, and they drifted to a stop. Panic started in her stomach and climbed into her throat. “What are you doing, Cash?”
Shit.
Did she sound panicked?

“No idea.” Putting the truck into park, he raked a gaze over her.

She’d never heard him sound anything but Rocky Mountain strong. “Cash—”

“I’ve missed hearing you say my name.” His arms draped over the steering wheel, his head pressed to its twelve o’clock. “Nic, I’m having a problem keeping my head around you, so why don’t you shut your pretty mouth and give me a minute?”

What?
There was no way he had the same issues she did. He hated her. Hadn’t forgiven her. “Wha… why?”

He still faced the steering wheel, but slid his hands to the nine and two positions, and hung on like he was strangling Cupid. “I’m forcing my hands to stay put. Physically willing them away from you. One move, one too-sweet word, Nicola, and I’m done for.”

“I don’t understand.” She thought she was the one holding back.

He peered up from his steering wheel pillow. “What’s not to understand?”

“You’re mad at me.”

“Angrier than I’ve been in my entire life.” His eyes held her in place, riveting her to him.

“You said you might hate me.” God, it hurt to say that out loud.

“Yeah, I might.”

“So what else is there?” she asked, scared and hoping at the same time.

“If that isn’t the question, I don’t know what is.”

“You mean…”

“I mean, I’m confused.” He sat upright, straightening his broad shoulders. “I mean, I don’t do this whole soap opera, back from the dead thing. And it’s been so long. But…”

“But?” Her head circled, lungs went on strike, blood pounded in her ears.

Her phone rang. Loud. Killing any confession that may have fallen from his lips. Words she’d die to hear. If she could’ve thrown the damn thing out the window and begged him to continue, she would have. But she couldn’t and checked the caller ID. “Jared.”

Cash shook his head. “Jared?”

She glanced at him and accepted the call. Cash hardened, seemingly not thrilled that Jared had called her. Jared grumbled in her ear. Something about making sure she made it to his Titan get together. She nodded as if he could see it. Bad habit. “Yeah. Almost there. See you.”

Nicola clicked off the phone, then dropped it into her purse.

“Why’s Jared calling you?” Cash looked pissed.

Fucking Jared. He hadn’t talked to Cash yet. “You know why I’m coming out here for your boys’ retreat?”

“Dunno. You’re going to fill us in on Smooth Enterprises? Have more to tell us after we debriefed?”

“Fucking Jared,” she repeated, but aloud this time, then finished another slew of curses in her head. She didn’t want to act crass in front of Cash.

“What?” No, now Cash looked pissed. Whatever that look before was, it was clearly a warm-up to this face. “Talk. Now.”

“Someone needs to read you in.”

“Nicola, you have two seconds. Then I get pissed.”

Hmm, not pissed yet? Could have fooled her.
“Me and Jared.”