Collateral Damage

by Jemma Westbrook

  Collateral Damage, a prequel to Loss Recovery, book 1 in the Alaskan Security-Team Rogue series.

  Copyright 2019 by Jemma Westbrook.

  www.jemmawestbrook.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First printing, 2019

  Cover design by Robin Harper at Wicked by Design.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  1

  “I’M SO SORRY, Bessie.”

  Cricket tipped to one side, dropping against the chipped wall of the bathroom stall where they’d spent the past ten minutes.

  “I bet you are.” Bess lifted one foot to push down the lever with the toe of her boot, flushing the toilet in the bar just down the street from the house they shared. “Was that Korean?”

  Cricket groaned, covering her mouth with one hand. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Bess straightened fully, stretching her back and shaking out her legs. She’d been crouched behind her best friend the whole time they’d been there, doing her best to keep Cricket’s hair free of the massacre, and her feet were tingling from lack of blood flow. She held out one hand. “You think you can stand up?”

  Cricket took a shaky breath. “God I hope so. I need to go the hell home.” She took the hand Bess offered and slowly rose, holding the other palm over her stomach. When she was finally on her feet, Cricket gave Bess a small smile. “You are the best, you know that?”

  “You would do the same for me.” Bess wrapped one arm around her roommate’s waist to help keep her steady as they started for the door.

  “I would try, but I’m not sure I could do it without joining you.” Cricket barely laughed, a belch coming out on the end of the sound. “Ew.”

  “Pretty sure I’m going to need the name of that place when you’re ready to talk about it.” Bess pulled open the door to the bathroom, the sound of loud conversation and music smothering out any more conversation they might have tried to have.

  Not that there was much to discuss. It was time to go home.

  Thank God.

  Four years ago when she met Cricket at college, the more outgoing woman immediately claimed Bess as her friend, pulling her out of her introverted ways and into as much of a social life as Bess would ever want to have.

  Tonight was a perfect example.

  “I should say goodbye to everyone before I go.” Cricket pushed against Bess, redirecting their trajectory from one aimed toward the door, to one pointed at the table of her equally outgoing coworkers.

  “Hey, guys.” Somehow Cricket managed to smile and sound upbeat in spite of the fact that she was puking her guts out less than two minutes ago. “I think I need to go home and lay down.”

  “I told you not to eat there.” Marcy, one of the nurses who worked on the same floor as Cricket shook her head. “That’s what always happens.”

  Bess glanced at her friend. “You ate at a place that always gives people food poisoning?”

  Cricket lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “I really wanted spicy squid.”

  Watching her best friend barf for ten minutes wasn’t enough to make Bess gag, but just the thought of squid might be. “That’s not something anyone should ever want.”

  “It’s so goo—” Cricket’s hand pressed over her mouth.

  Bess shifted her friend’s weight as more of it leaned against her. Cricket was a good six inches taller than she was and at least twenty pounds heavier. Too much more leaning would most likely take them both down to the sticky bar floor, and that was nowhere Bess ever intended to be. “Okay. Time to go.” She gave the table an awkward-feeling smile and wave before maneuvering Cricket back in the direction of the door.

  Cricket’s feet moved alongside hers as they worked their way through the crowded space.

  Friday nights were always crowded here. Probably because most people liked to go out and drink and get a little wild. Forget everything weighing them down and let go.

  Honestly, it’s what Bess was hoping to accomplish tonight too. Unfortunately, that just might not be in her skill set.

  “You don’t have to take me, Bessie.” Cricket slowed down, turning back toward the table of her friends. “Go. Have fun.” Her dark eyes moved to Bessie’s. “You need it.”

  God that was an understatement, but what Cricket found fun and what Bess found fun were two different things, and going to sit at a table with a group of almost-strangers wasn’t even close to what she considered a good time.

  “I need you to survive the walk home.” Bess tried to pick up their pace. If Cricket was going to have another ralphing relapse, she wanted it to be outside in the street, not all over the already questionable bar floor and numerous people’s pants legs. “Keep moving.”

  They were almost to the door when it opened and a tall, good-looking guy stepped in, blue eyes scanning the bar.

  Cricket immediately lit up in spite of her current state. “There you are.”

  “Holy shit, Crick.” Ben immediately reached for Cricket as she let go of Bess, grabbing onto her boyfriend’s broad shoulders instead. His brow creased in a frown as he stared down at her. “You look terrible.”

  “Thanks.” Cricket leaned into Ben the Perfect Man, wrapping one arm around his waist.

  He pressed a kiss to her head as he pulled her close. “You know what I mean.” He glanced over his shoulder at Bess as they turned to go. “You good?”

  Bess nodded.

  It was a lie.

  Cricket peeked over the muscled arm holding her tight. “Go back and have a good time.” She wiggled her brows at Bess. “Let loose a little.”

  “Will do.” Bess forced a smile as Cricket and Ben left the bar, abandoning her to a room full of strangers.

  She’d rather be the one puking up bad spicy squid.

  “You’re friend gonna be okay?”

  Bess jumped a little, the deep voice behind her seeming to come out of nowhere. Just like the man who owned it.

  She twisted to face him. Her eyes found him a little too quickly, and the sight of him made her stumble mid-spin, sending Bess careening to one side as her booted feet tangled together. He lunged forward, moving faster than she’d ever seen anyone move before. His hands caught her in a firm but careful grasp, holding her steady as she tried to regain her footing.

  Which wasn’t easy, especially with him watching her so closely. His dark eyes never left her face, not even for a second. “You okay?”

  “Yup.” Bess dragged her eyes from his, barely managing to make it past the dark shadow of scruff covering the sharp line of his jaw, and down to the broad spread of his chest.

  “Good.” The stupidly beautiful stranger still didn’t let her go. “That’s good.”

  She forced her eyes to his again and her breath nearly caught at the intensity burning there.

  This was ridiculous. He was just a man.

  It didn’t matter that he might be the single most attractive example of the specimen on the face of the earth. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a dimple hiding behind the scruff covering each cheek, he could pass for a rugged David Gandy on his best day. Just without the accent.

  It was probably better that he didn’t have it. That might be the straw that would send her legs buckling, dropping her to the bar floor she’d worked so hard to avoid earlier.

  But he would probably catch her a
gain.

  Which would be simple, considering he still hadn’t let her go from last time. “I’m okay. Really. You just surprised me.”

  He studied her for a second. “You surprised me too.” The warmth of his hands disappeared as they finally fell from her arms. His eyes flicked to the door before settling back on hers. “Did your friend have a little too much?”

  “Too much...” Her brain raced to catch up.

  “Oh.” Bess shook her head. “No. Bad Korean food.”

  “Is there good Korean food?”

  For a second Bess didn’t realize he was kidding. The line was delivered completely deadpan. It wasn’t until his full lips barely twitched that she figured out the truth. “It was spicy squid.”

  The handsome stranger’s upper lip curled, one side of his barely crooked nose lifting along with it. “That sounds disgusting.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” She watched his lips to see what they would do next.

  “Can I get you a drink...”

  Bess’s eyes snapped up to his. He wanted her name.

  Should she be giving a strange man in a bar her name? Gorgeous or not, there was a good chance she’d be trying to sneak away from him before too long, bored out of her mind. Men who looked like him didn’t usually have much to offer conversationally.

  But his voice was so deep. His eyes were so dark. And his hands were so—

  Capable.

  It would be a shame to walk away now. And maybe he would surprise her. Be more than she expected.

  “Carly. My name’s Carly Smith.” Bess forced a smile. That was about the worst fake name anyone had ever thought up. And why did she have to give him a fake name anyway? It’s not like she planned to...

  Her heart rate picked up a little at the thought of doing more than conversing with this man. No strings attached. A way to clear her head of all the confusion fogging it without adding to the blur.

  Handsome’s head barely tipped to one side, and for a second she thought he might question her.

  But then one of those strong, capable hands came out to reach in her direction. “Whitt Daniels.”

  She carefully put her hand into his. “Nice to meet you, Whitt.”

  “Likewise, Carly.” His dark eyes moved to the bar. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Bess rubbed her lips together. She almost forgot about Cricket’s friends. She should probably go tell them something. Hopefully come up with an explanation that would keep Cricket from finding out what she might be thinking of doing.

  Maybe she could tell them Whitt was an old friend she wanted to catch up with. That made sense. Right?

  But when Bess glanced to where they were sitting just a few minutes ago, the table was empty.

  Whitt followed her gaze, stepping in close at her side. Near enough the earthy scent of birch and spice was impossible to miss.

  Good God. He even smelled better than any man she’d ever met.

  “I think your friends left you.”

  Bess shook her head. “They weren’t my friends.” It was true, but their immediate abandonment still stung a little.

  “That’s apparent.” Whitt’s gaze hardened as he stared at the empty spot a second longer, before turning it back on her. “What about that drink?”

  Tonight was supposed to be about having fun. Letting loose as Cricket would say. It was the whole reason her friend dragged her here. To take a break from the decision she was pretending to reconsider. She’d already decided things were over between her and Chris, and Whitt’s presence was making her more positive of that with each passing second.

  But it still felt a little wrong to look at him the way she was, taking in every masculine inch of what he had to offer. Especially considering she was doing it for the purpose of comparing him to another man.

  One who didn’t stack up, even before Whitt appeared tonight.

  If it wasn’t for that other man she might have thought more seriously about walking away. Thanking Whitt for his offer before leaving to go home.

  Alone.

  But for once she didn’t want to be alone.

  She wanted to have a drink with Whitt. Let him look at her with his almost black eyes a little longer. Maybe let him show her all the possibilities that might be ahead of her.

  “Okay.”

  His hand was on her back in a heartbeat, wide and warm, pressing her toward the bar. It stayed in place as she ordered her drink and he ordered his, then it eased her to a table tucked into a quiet corner.

  Whitt pulled out a chair for her then sat down in the one close beside it. “What do you do for a living, Carly?”

  “I work for my parents.” Bess sipped at the beer before setting it on the table. “They own a construction company and I am in charge of our project managers.”

  Whitt’s dark brows lifted. “A woman in charge. I like that.”

  Bess tried to hide her smile behind the mouth of her beer as she took another swallow.

  Whitt was definitely making her decision seem like the right one.

  Honestly, until Cricket found Ben, Bess thought she had an acceptable thing going with Chris. She thought the way he treated her was fine enough. That their relationship was good enough.

  Ben changed that. The way he treated Cricket made Bess realize there was more out there.

  Better men. Men who told you how beautiful you were. Men who worried about you and wanted to be sure you were happy and taken care of.

  “What about you?” Bess let her attention focus back on the man beside her. It wasn’t difficult to accomplish. “What do you do?”

  “Security.” Something she couldn’t identify flashed through his midnight eyes. There and gone before she took her next breath.

  “Like a security guard?”

  “Something like that.” Whitt placed his untouched beer on the table beside hers. “You from around here?”

  “Born and raised.” Bess gave him a small smile, knowing what she was about to say threw most people for a loop. “I’ve never even been out of the state.”

  Whitt’s brows lifted. “Never been anywhere but Oregon? Not even for college?”

  She shook her head. “It’s hard to go too far away when the whole family is involved in the business. Especially with the kind of construction we handle.”

  “What kind is that?”

  “High-end homes. Most run in the millions.” Bess swallowed down a little more beer, lifting one shoulder as she continued her explanation. “People who build houses like that are pretty high-maintenance.”

  “I can imagine.” Whitt’s lips barely lifted. “Not you though.”

  For some reason his comment felt oddly flattering. “No. I guess not.”

  Whitt leaned against the table, resting one elbow and forearm on the surface between them. “Why did you come here tonight, Carly?”

  The way he said the name made her wonder if he knew the truth. That she wasn’t really Carly.

  That nothing like this had ever happened to her before.

  “Because I had to.” Cricket would never have let her sit another night out. She’d begged off three already this month, using her recent break-up as an excuse, even though she was positive Cricket knew the truth.

  That she simply didn’t enjoy going out the way her best friend did.

  Bess was always the wallflower. The quiet one in the corner, preferring to watch instead of participate.

  She was never the woman men like Whitt sought out.

  They chased women like Cricket. Women who were outgoing and always wore a smile.

  But not tonight. Tonight she was sitting at a table with a man who picked her from a barful of options, and that felt oddly flattering too.

  One of his long, strong fingers reached out to stroke the skin of her wrist. A single touch that told her this night might turn into so much more than she expected when she left the house with Cricket.

  Tonight could be an experience unlike any she’d had before.

  But for that to
happen, she had to make a choice.

  Be what she’d always been—

  Or take a risk.

  2

  WHAT IN THE hell was he doing?

  “You had to come here tonight?” Wade let his finger stroke a little farther, sliding over the softest skin he’d ever felt. “Not wanted to?”

  The gorgeous woman claiming to be named Carly stared down at where he touched her. “I don’t really go out much.”

  She might have lied about her name, but she was definitely telling the truth about that.

  He’d watched her since she came into the bar where he was trying to kill the last night he would be spending in Wayfield, Oregon. She barely said ten words to the people at the table around her, but he could guarantee she heard everything that was said. Saw every expression and picked it apart, reading people who had no clue she could see so much.

  Maybe that’s why he couldn’t stop himself when the opportunity to talk to her fell into his lap.

  “Me either.” Wade bit off the urge to tell her more. Give this woman explanations he could never give anyone. And never wanted to.

  Not until this very minute.

  It’s why he should leave. Thank her for the conversation, and walk away.

  Because this woman was dangerous.

  “Really?” She didn’t even try to hide her skepticism. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

  She probably shouldn’t. Not at all.

  But like her, this time he was telling the truth.

  “I work a lot and I also don’t take too much time off.” Wade sipped at the beer he had no intention of finishing. Keeping a clear head was imperative in his line of work.

  Not that he was doing much working at this minute. His actions right now might actually be the exact opposite of work, because talking to this woman was too easy. Too natural.

  “I like working.” She seemed defensive. As if he might judge her for taking her career seriously.

  If only she knew.

  “So do I.” It was a reminder he needed desperately in this minute, because Wade was dangerously close to forgetting the reality of the life he chose.

  One that prevented him from giving this woman all she probably deserved.