The Omega Team: Love: Classified (Kindle Worlds Novella) (4 page)

She nodded, dry-mouthed and confused at the serious tone of his voice. He held out a hand. She took it, surprised that it felt so natural. His seat was half a dozen rows back from hers, but he got her rolling bag squared away in the luggage bin and brushed her cheek with a kiss before taking it. She watched him go until someone cleared their throat behind her.

“Oh, sorry,” she said, feeling her face flush.

“No worries,” the guy who had the window seat next to hers said. “He’s hot. I’d stare at his ass too.”

She giggled and dropped into her seat, plugged earphones into her ears, and tried not to smile like a cat with a belly full of canary.

Joey tried to fall back into a doze for the short flight south, but his mind wouldn’t cooperate. Irritated since he’d trained himself to sleep whenever the opportunity arose, he stared out into the cloud-laced blue sky as the plane headed over Ohio. He pressed his overheated face to the window and tried to convince himself that doing this crazy thing for a woman he’d just met this morning—whom he was beginning to suspect was the polar opposite of what he’d always thought he wanted in a woman—was a good idea.

Joey considered his tastes in females straightforward, simple even. He was typically drawn to curves and had always figured himself a breast man. When he’d told Paige he didn’t want a quickie in an airport bathroom, he’d not been kidding. Women who’d jump him in bars and make those sorts of suggestions did not make it past his first cut on any given night.

He liked to make the first move. He preferred to be in control of almost every scene—it was a work hazard if he didn’t. And losing control over a woman in a bar . . . or in an airport . . . was not his usual M.O. But damn him if it hadn’t taken everything he had in him not to follow her to whatever “place” she knew about, to rip her clothes off and give her exactly what she wanted from him.

He sighed and rolled his forehead left to right on the window, attempting without much success to shove her out of his brain. Before the plane’s rules had kicked in, he’d sent a quick text to Grey:

“Headed to Ky. Doing a favor for a friend. Will check in from there once I figure out where I’m going after.”

He craned his neck up to check on her, smiling when he caught sight of her pulling that unruly mass of curls off her neck and fastening it once more in a messy ponytail. It was one of her nervous ticks he’d picked up on that he liked. Her tendency to messiness and disorganization was something he definitely didn’t like, however.

Jesus, man, you aren’t marrying her. Who cares if she leaves the toothpaste cap off and dirty dishes in the sink? Just fuck her and get it over with.

Joey shuddered and had to concentrate on the Tigers’ bullpen stats to keep from springing another woody. He’d had to do that a lot in the past few hours, and he had to admit that a woman had not affected him to such a degree in a damn long time, if ever. The near constant state of arousal he’d inhabited since he’d met her was like an irritating itch in the middle of his back that he couldn’t quite reach.

So, clearly, he just had to get her alone, do the deed, and move on with his life. He’d consider it payback for pretending to be her boyfriend to keep her parents off her neck.

No problem.

Maybe.

He groaned and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He was bone tired. Sleep had been elusive for the last week as he processed the shit show of a case he’d been on. All he’d been able to see every night when he closed his eyes were the huge, terrified eyes of those kids he’d found in that pervert’s basement. The evil that existed in the souls of men had never affected him so strongly, despite his tours in the Middle East where he’d been exposed to all manner of horrors.

As the plane made its bumpy landing, he felt resolved. He’d do this thing he’d agreed to do for the pretty girl from Kentucky. He’d pretend to be her boyfriend, finagle her to his hotel for a night, pack his bags and then be gone for good. As they taxied to the gate, Joey fired up his phone, half hoping Grey and Athena would have found an assignment for him, but knowing damn good and well they meant it when they insisted he make himself scarce for some R and R.

“Kentucky? Who do you know there?”
was the text response from Grey.

“A friend
,
”
he repeated.
“No biggie. She needs me to go to her sister’s wedding with her.”

“A WEDDING? WTF, dude?”

Joey smiled and ignored that comment, figuring for the most rhetorical of all possible questions. The plane lurched to a stop. Joey watched as his fellow passengers scrambled around as if their very survival hinged on them getting their crap from the overhead compartments and standing up well ahead of everyone else.

He sat, giving himself pep talks about his new-found resolve when it came to Miz DiFerrari. Once the line of humanity began inching its way forward like a giant centipede, he still waited, unwilling to clap eyes on the woman again for fear of blowing all his resolutions about her to the four winds.

Finally, once all the people around him had cleared out, he got up and pulled his pack from the bin, shouldered it, took a long breath and headed down the aisle.

“Thanks for flying Delta,” the flight attendant chirped at him.

“Sure thing,” he replied with a smile that made the woman blush. “Thank you.”

As he trudged up the slight incline of the jetway, he sensed himself sinking, falling into a mire of quicksand filled with shitty decisions and ill-considered actions. The ever-lingering exhaustion stopped hovering and pounced on him as he emerged into the much less busy terminal in Lexington, Kentucky. A town in a state he’d never once had a reason to visit. He blinked in the bright light streaming through a wall of windows opposite the gate and stumbled, nearly tripping over something before grabbing onto the back of the ubiquitous, ugly, black plastic airport seats.

“Hey,” a newly familiar voice called out. “You all right?” Paige’s voice forced him to shut his eyes and repeat the mantra he’d invented on the short plane ride to her hometown. “Joey?”

She grabbed his arm. He opened his eyes and stared at her a few seconds, then smiled. “I’m good. Sorry. Tired. It’s been a long few weeks.”

“Oh,” she said, digging through the mess of her shoulder bag until she pulled out her phone. “I’ll call and let them know we’re here.” She stopped and bit her lower lip, which made Joey have to swallow a groan. He wasn’t going to be able to do this. He couldn’t trust himself not to act so completely out of character around her. She confused him and even scared him a little.

Frowning at him, she put the phone to her ear. After a few seconds, she ended the call. “Everybody’s at the barbecue by now.” She perched on the edge of her suitcase and ran a shaking hand down her face. “Shit.”

Joey watched as her eyes took in the smaller airport. He could practically see her mind whirring, coming up with excuses to bolt. That gave him a fresh sense of purpose. If he did nothing more this weekend, he’d get this messy girl to her sister’s wedding. He wouldn’t let her run away from it.

“Let’s rent a fun car,” he suggested, holding out his elbow. She sighed and glared down at the floor. “Come on, Paige. We’re already late for the first big event. Let’s not make it worse than it is.” He raised his eyebrow at her. She stuck out her tongue at him, then rose and slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.

They made their way down the wide hallway, turning at the sign that said “rental cars,” hopped a shuttle and got out at the Hertz building. Paige stayed silent, gnawing on her lip and fingernails in turn. He accepted the upgrade to a convertible, declined the overpriced, unnecessary insurance, let the desk clerk fawn over him for as long as he could take it, thanks to his platinum status, then turned to find Paige standing outside, pawing inside her giant bag for something.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the key with its outsized keyring and the little folder of information.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Preston. Your Mustang is right there.” The clerk pointed behind Joey. He spotted the red convertible he’d noticed on the way in and smiled.

“Perfect.” He stuck his wallet in his pack and shouldered it, spotted the cigarette Paige had just stuck in her mouth and snagged it on his way past her. He broke it in two pieces, and then stomped on it, shredding it under his boots.

“Hey,” she said with hands on her hips.

“
Hay
is for horses. Get in.” He held open the passenger’s side door. “Come on, Paige. Your chariot awaits.” He stared at her, half irritated, half horny.

She blew out a puff of air, grabbed her suitcase and rolled it toward him. He took it from her with a frown. He had to get this thing back under his control, or he was going to flat out lose his mind. After slamming the door shut, he tossed her suitcase and his backpack in the trunk, climbed in behind the wheel and turned the key.

As he waited for the top to fold back, he allowed a small tickle of fury at her.
Cigarettes? Really
?

“No girlfriend of mine smokes—cigarettes, anyway.” He gripped the wheel, unable to look at her. “Got it?”

“Okay,” she said, her voice soft. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. As long as we have an understanding of that issue.”

Keeping his fingers wrapped around the wheel, he looked down at the hand she’d placed about midway up his thigh. She pulled a pair of Raybans from the depths of her bag full of God knows what and leaned back, letting her fingers rest even closer to his crotch. “Nice car,” she said as he gunned the throaty motor. “Can I drive?”

“Is your name on the rental agreement?” He signaled left in her direction and pulled into the light, late afternoon airport traffic.

“No,” she said, turning to him as they waited at a light.

“Well, there’s your answer.”

“You sure are prickly all of a sudden, fake boyfriend.” She lifted her sunglasses at the same moment he turned to look at her. “All because of a little cig?”

“My parents both smoked like chimneys. I thought everybody’s house, hair and clothes smelled like an ashtray until I went to my first of four grade schools and found out that wasn’t the case. They died within months of each other from lung cancer.”

She took her hand off his leg, thank God. Joey forced himself to relax and enjoy the ride. It was hot but not terribly humid, with a decent breeze. He propped his left arm on the open window and signaled to exit the expressway when she told him. They waited at the bottom of the exit, the empty intersection mocking the need for a traffic light. Joey’s heart rate was slowing after the twenty minute, open-top car ride. He turned to smile at her. She was glaring at him.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you drive like somebody’s grandma? Blow off the light already, Preston. I’m late.”

He frowned at her, glanced back at the admittedly superfluous light, then gunned it, tires screeching, into a left turn. Mashing the accelerator, he reveled in the car’s power and the sound of Paige’s squeal of pleasure. They were on a mostly empty two-lane road, with just enough hills, twists and turns to make the next fifteen minutes an utter joy to drive. He braked and accelerated, focusing forward, only looking at her once to see she had both arms raised as if she were in the front car of a roller coaster.

“That’s better,” she said, reassembling her hair. “Pull over here. I should change clothes.”

“Where?” he asked, honestly confused. All he saw were a couple of unassuming houses set back from the road at the end of long driveways.

“Right there,” she said with a flap of her fingers. “It’s a friend’s house. They’ll all be at the party already, but I can change in their driveway.”

He turned into the drive, the gravel crunching under the tires, breathing heavily as if he’d just run a fast mile. Paige hopped out and grabbed her suitcase from the trunk, then tossed it into the backseat, humming under her breath.

After a few seconds spent digging through a tangle of unfolded clothing, she seemed to find what she wanted. He watched in the rear view mirror as she slipped out of her jeans and lifted the T-shirt over her head.

“Don’t stare at me,” she grumbled, glaring back at him in the mirror. “Fake boyfriends who kiss like you do but don’t follow through do not get to ogle my goodies.”

Joey averted his gaze, his ears humming, his face burning hot. “I plan to follow through,” he said through clenched teeth. “Just not in a damn airport. Why can’t you get that through your stubborn, thick skull?”

She made a snorting sound as he stared through the windshield. He felt like his every nerve was on high alert, making him quiver like a tuning fork. Within about half a minute, she was clambering over the middle console, her firm, tanned, very bare legs right in his face. He sighed and watched her, trying to summon anger, but finding only a sort of amused indulgence.

“What?” she demanded, once she’d gotten back in her seat—a seat she could have easily reached by getting out, opening the front door and climbing in that way. She had one knee bent as she fastened the strap of a high, wedge-heeled sandal around her ankle. He reached out before he could stop himself and wrapped his fingers around her ankle. Keeping his eyes fixed on where his hand connected with her leg, he slid his palm up her taut calf, stopping when he got to her bent knee.

“Is this our first fight?” he asked, mesmerized by the spray of freckles on her thigh revealed by the too-short skirt of the sundress she’d put on in the backseat. She lowered her leg, forcing him to remove his hand from it. She bent the other knee and put on her right sandal. The top of his head was burning hot, exposed to the late afternoon sun, but Joey’s skin had broken out in goose bumps.

Once she was done, she put both of her feet on the floor and tried to smooth some of the egregious wrinkles out of the skirt. Joey watched her hands move around randomly with no obvious purpose. He could smell her—the sweat, nerves, and pure femaleness of her. He put his hand on her thigh.