Barriers: Anderson Special Ops - Book 3

by Melody Anne

  “How’s it going?” Chad asked as he looked over Brackish’s shoulder.

  “We have such good sound, we’re going to hear the friction of Green’s pants when he gets a boner for the pretty senator,” Brackish said smugly.

  Chad groaned. “TMI, Brackish, TMI.”

  “Well, we can also read their body temps, so we’ll know when either one of them gets all hot and bothered and be able to detect their heart rates. Thermal dynamics can see how much the senator actually wants our little Green.”

  “Little? Who in the hell are you calling little?” Green asked as he stepped into the room.

  Brackish spun around and grinned at Green. “We’re just getting the sensors placed in the restaurant so we know when you’re smoldering for the senator,” he told him, while clicking a button and shifting the image on the screen.

  “The senator is hot, but I don’t go for the power-hungry types,” Green said with a shrug as he sat across from Brackish. He wasn’t interested in looking at the computer. He trusted his team. They all trusted each other.

  “I like a powerful woman,” Smoke said through a microphone that came through loud and clear. He’d just exited the restaurant and was on his way back to headquarters. “It makes it so much more fun to tame them.”

  “I’m going to replay you saying that at your wedding,” Brackish promised.

  Smoke laughed. “I’m not worried about that as I’ll never get married,” he assured them.

  “That’s what I said too,” Brackish said with a laugh. “Stupidest vow I ever made for myself. Now that I have Erin in my life, I realize what a blessing she is. Besides, can you imagine how lonely it would be to go home to an empty house for the rest of your life? Why would anyone choose that?” For once there was no teasing in his voice.

  “I have to admit it sucks sometimes,” Eyes said as he entered the room. “But it doesn’t suck so much that I want to give up my freedom of coming and going as I please.”

  “I thought the same thing,” Sleep said. “And sometimes the marriage isn’t perfect, but that’s when we grow the most. I’m a better person with Avery in my life than without her, so I’ll take marriage any day of the week over my bachelor life before her.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Chad said as he lifted his coffee cup and took a long swallow.

  “I’m going to work out. The waiting is driving me crazy,” Green said. The team went back to what they were doing as Green headed to the state-of-the-art gym they’d insisted on having at the facility. They worked hard, and they needed to not only keep fit but burn off energy on a daily basis. They all spent a lot of time in the gym.

  When he finished pushing himself to the limit and headed to the showers, his phone pinged. He pulled it from his pocket and found a message from one of the senator’s lackies stating she needed Green’s address so he could be picked up. A pang of irritation filled him. He didn’t like being fetched, and he didn’t like being under their control. He would’ve much rather driven there himself. But he’d play their game for now. His team would be nearby with a car if and when he wanted to leave.

  He’d been staying at the ops center since he’d come there, not because he couldn’t afford a place, but because it had everything he wanted, and he wasn’t seeing anyone, so he hadn’t needed an undercover house. Now he did. The day before Chad had figured out they’d want to know where he lived, so they’d found a place and hired a host of movers and decorators who were nearly finished installing everything a bachelor would have in his home.

  I can get there on my own, Green texted the lackey back, just wanting to show the entire team working for the senator that he wasn’t a lapdog. There was a fine line between acting starstruck and being a puppy dog.

  I must insist, sir. I’ve been given direct orders to drive you myself. MB.

  Green looked at his phone having no idea what the MB was about.

  What is MB? He texted back.

  Mallory Black. I’m the chief of staff for Senator Miller. Please send your address and I’ll be there to pick you up at 5:30.

  Green knew Mallory’s type instantly. Male or female, this type of person was a go-getter without the experience or that thing to be the boss, however always wanting to be next to the boss, hoping some of the praise and accolades would spill over on them. Some assistants, which is what they really were, were okay people. But throwing out their titles said a lot about them.

  Green didn’t argue with Mallory, but sent his address, knowing his alter ego — the man they thought he was — would be excited about getting picked up. He threw his phone on the bed as he stripped and headed for the shower, getting ready quicker than he wanted so he could get to the house before MB arrived.

  He barely beat her there.

  With no surprise, at exactly 5:30PM on the dot, a blacked-out SUV pulled into his driveway. Before the text came that his ride was there, he bound from the house with a smile and a wave to the driver.

  Green couldn’t stand the fakeness of it all. Through every adventure he’d taken in life, he’d made sure to be himself. It didn’t matter if it was while he held a long gun in the freezing cold, the scorching heat, or the melting humidity of a location he was at, or if he was sitting in a board room where he was in command as the youngest person in the room by at least twenty years and making decisions that moved millions and millions of dollars — he was always himself. There were many sides to Green, but fakeness and insincerities weren’t a part of him at all. Being fake made his skin crawl.

  He moved down his sidewalk, opened the passenger door, and climbed inside. He immediately shifted as he turned and held out a hand. “You must be Mallory. Great to meet you,” he said. “Love the ride.” He was putting as much enthusiasm in his voice as he could.

  Mallory, dressed exactly as he’d expected, was already backing from his driveway. She ignored his hand and gave him a brief look of disdain as if he were a bug on her expensive heels, and she was far too important to be playing taxi driver to a punk like him. He was instantly intrigued. She might be dressed the way he’d expected in a sleek, fitted business suit with thin wire-framed glasses, little makeup, and no fragrance to speak of, but there was fire in her eyes that had his body stirring in a way that shocked him.

  Once they were on the street, she took a breath and seemed to remember to act civilized. His hand was still in the air as a challenge. She sighed, reached out, and clasped his fingers briefly in hers. “Mallory Black. It’s good to meet you,” she finally said. Then she faced forward and focused on driving.

  The zing of electricity that shot through him at their very brief touch surprised the hell out of him. He hadn’t felt that enticing jolt of electricity in a long time. It was too bad she wasn’t the senator, that she wasn’t the mission.

  He decided to observe her while they made the long drive to the restaurant. She didn’t talk, and neither did he. Instead, their drive was met with a mixture of talk radio, PBS, and a ten-second phone call from the other lackey who’d texted Green, confirming the retrieval of Green and that they were on their way. If Mallory had the ability to make small talk, Green couldn’t find it.

  The vehicle pulled up to the entrance of The Pink Door, and a valet opened Green’s door. He stepped out, and before he could say thanks for the ride, the SUV pulled away. Mallory had been a strange woman indeed. Very attractive in a nerdy way, but wound way too tight for him. He liked a secure woman who let go and went wild in the bedroom.

  Even though there’d been a spark between them, he knew it would sizzle real fast. She most certainly didn’t have a kissing game, let alone a kinky bone in her body that he was curious about. The top of her suit had fitted quite close to her. He wanted to know about the bottom half.

  The other lackey who’d called while they were on their way stood at the entrance to the restaurant, waiting to pull Green to his table. It appeared they didn’t like making the senator wait for anyone. That’s why they’d insisted o
n getting him there early. Just as Brackish had stated, they did a security sweep on him, searching for weapons or bugs. He came up clear with their amateur equipment.

  “The senator will be with you shortly,” lackey number two informed him.

  “I’m here pretty early,” Green said. He was having a difficult time staying in his role of star-struck lapdog.

  “Senator Miller’s a busy woman. It’s better for you to wait for her than for her to wait for you,” lackey boy said with a cool look, indicating he didn’t see why the senator was taking anytime at all with Green. Green smiled at him, seeming to fluster the man. He turned and Green followed him inside.

  “Please send an affirmative text I’m coming through,” Green whispered as he walked a few feet behind the lackey. He felt his phone instantly vibrate. He pulled it from his interior jacket pocket to see a childish response — You’re coming through . . . by taking one for the team.

  No one is taking anything for the team, Green replied.

  “Have a seat. Order an appetizer and a drink. The senator will be here shortly,” lackey number two said, then turned and walked away.

  This is gonna take a while, Brackish texted. She’s nowhere near the place yet.

  I figure this is all a part of the game, he replied.

  And it did take a while — forty-five minutes, in fact. Maybe that was his punishment. He’d made her wait too long to have a meeting and now she was attempting to gain her power back. She’d never met a man quite like Green before, he was sure of that.

  There was s stir in the restaurant as a few people buzzed at the sight of the senator walking inside. She moved with purpose to his table. He stood to shake hands with her, they exchanged greetings, and then sat in unison.

  She was a well-polished politician. An easy smile stayed on her face throughout their opening lines, giving any onlookers the appearance that she was as happy as could be to be in the restaurant as simply one of the normal people she lorded over. Everything about her was put together perfectly, and Green surmised it took a team of four or five people to get every piece put into place.

  While she wasn’t the stunning model type, she was an attractive woman, and it was evident her curvy figure was the result of more than simple genetics. She obviously worked out and seemingly had had work done. He could spot fake lips and boobs any day of the week. He wasn’t knocking it, either. If mother-nature didn’t give a person the gifts they wanted, why not go out and buy them for yourself? What a person did with their own body was their own business and he’d sure appreciated a good surgeon a time or two in his life when his hands had been roaming over the work of those doctors.

  “I’m glad our schedules finally aligned, and we have time to meet,” Senator Miller said with a Cheshire cat smile and a glint in her eyes that told him she knew how to play games just as well as he did. She was far more his type than the prickly woman who’d chauffeured him to the place.

  “Sorry about the delays, but I appreciate you taking me out for dinner. I have to admit, I’m confused about why,” Green said, trying to keep the character of a barely educated man who’d gotten lucky in life and was now able to intrigue a senator.

  She didn’t hesitate. “I don’t beat around the bush, Hendrick. It isn’t my style — in work or play,” she said. The waiter stopped her from speaking for a moment as he offered a bottle of wine she’d preordered and poured their first glasses. Green was very aware she hadn’t asked his opinion on their drinks. He didn’t say anything about it as he waited for the waiter to leave so the senator could continue speaking, which she did as if they hadn’t been interrupted.

  “First, please, call me Anna. Second, I find you attractive. When we met at the announcement party there was no way to talk to you privately and, unfortunately for me, the dating scene in my world has a very limited pool,” she finished before taking a sip of her three-hundred-dollar bottle of wine. He knew the brand and how pricy it was. She didn’t blush at her bold words, and it was apparent she hadn’t anticipated being rejected. She’d been at the top of the totem pole for a long time and probably hadn’t been turned down for anything since she was a child.

  Green felt his phone buzz and knew there was a text from the team that would piss him off right about then. He smiled as he held his hand out beside the table where the senator couldn’t see it and flipped up his middle finger. He was sure his team saw it loud and clear. His phone buzzed again, and he ignored it, again.

  Creating a false sense of embarrassment and eager excitement, Green squirmed in his seat while not making eye contact with the senator when he said, “Well, I, um, are you . . .?” timing his response to be perfect. Green knew he’d nailed it when he looked up and locked eyes with Anna Miller. “Are you saying you want to date me, Senator Miller?”

  She reached over and gently put her hand on top of his, keeping her eyes locked on his. “I said to call me Anna. I insist,” she told him. Then she softened her tone. “I don’t know if I’m ready for dating, but I’d like to see where things can go between us. Let’s have dinner and find out where the night might take us.”

  His phone buzzed again, and he didn’t even have to read it to know what was being sent to him. He was going to kick all of their asses when this night was over. He reached in and turned off his phone with a quick flick of his thumb.

  “I think that sounds good,” Green said, then held up his glass. “To where the night might take us,” he finished. The senator gladly met his glass with hers as she gave him a flirty smile. It was so fake it made his teeth ache, but he gave it right back to her.

  The night went in the direction Green had figured it would go — in the direction his team had figured it would go. They talked politics, sports, family, and everything in between. Green knew what he was telling her was a bunch of crap, and he had no doubt it was the same from her. But it’s what people who just wanted to get laid without having a commitment did — they talked to impress.

  Green was normally very adept at adjusting to a conversation and then moving it in the direction he wanted it to go. But with the senator it wasn’t as easy for him — she was a great match to his wit. There was something about her he hadn’t expected, and he found it actually interested him.

  As the meal came to an end and the obvious point of sitting and socializing in that setting passed its time, the senator looked over to Green and stated, “I’d like to continue this evening. There’s a private wine bar not far from here that I’m a member of. Would you like to join me?”

  It might’ve been formed as a question, but Green knew if he didn’t go, there’d never be another invitation of any kind from her. This evening had to go a very specific way and he needed to walk a razor thin tightrope. He agreed — taking one for the damn team.

  They were driven to a wine bar, a member-only establishment and those members were paying a high price for that exclusivity. A bar made of African blackwood with sandalwood inlays, surrounded by deep leather high-backed barstools, was the centerpiece of the place. The Brazilian rosewood flooring was polished to a high shine. High-top tables had two to four seats surrounding them with candle centerpieces and low-hung crystal chandeliers. The atmosphere screamed money, and the members wore clothes that likely cost more than most people’s mortgage payments with jewelry that cost as much as the house.

  They were in the center of the room when a voice called out to Senator Miller, making an audible hush throughout the room as people turned to look at the could-be President of the United States walk inside as if she owned the place, her arm in Green’s. They wanted to know who he was — and it was more than obvious she loved making them wait.

  “Madam President,” another voice said, obvious enthusiasm in her voice. Senator Miller had a loyal following, that was for sure, and a lot of people who were willing to buy her stories.

  “Hello everyone. Thank you for the warm greetings,” the senator said. “But I don’t want a fuss. I’m just here with my frie
nd to have a quiet drink or two.” She was smooth with her words, letting them know they were important to her, but she wanted time alone. She did it without offending anyone in the room.

  “This is my friend, Hendrick, and we’re going to take the Mariner room as I need to talk shop for a bit. After that I’ll join you at the bar to tell some stories about who caught the biggest fish.” She finished her sentence with a fake laugh, causing the patrons in the room to chuckle along with her.

  “You enjoy yourself, Senator,” someone said.

  “Yep, looks like it’s you who caught the biggest fish tonight,” another piped in.

  “I just might have,” Senator Miller whispered in Green’s ear. A shudder rippled through him. He wasn’t sure if it was one of desire or revulsion. Maybe a few more drinks would let him know.

  The Mariner room had a couch running along the back wall with an oversized chair on each side of it. Well-placed shelves were filled with leather-bound books, and multiple small tables were around each seat with a coffee table on top of the silk Persian rug.

  “Please, have a seat on the couch. I’m going to grab a couple bottles of wine and some glasses. Do you prefer red or white?” she asked plainly. After the restaurant he was surprised she was asking.

  “I don’t drink much wine, but I liked what we had at the restaurant,” Green said. It was an outright lie. He drank plenty of wine to know exactly what he did and didn’t like.

  “I’ll be right back,” she replied, then walked away.

  Green had to admit her curves from the backside were just as flattering as those from the front. Maybe there was more to this woman that he’d given her credit for. She was definitely power-hungry, which had always excited him. Beyond that, he wouldn’t mind bragging to the boys he’d bedded the, possibly, first female president. A little skip in his normally steady heart rate made him realize it had been far too long since he’d last had sex.

  He remembered he’d turned off his phone and pulled it from his pocket while he had a minute alone. There were a couple of dozen messages, but the last one popped up; Lost comms, please confirm all is well. Smoke is trailing you, but not inside.