by Shauna Allen
I melted like candle wax on the spot. That. Right there. That was the guy I’d caught a glimpse of in the van that had me jonesing like a junkie for another taste of his sweetness. And good God almighty, it did not hurt one iota that he was chocolate-covered sex on a stick.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice girly and breathy, a fact I’m sure he didn’t miss.
“You sure? I could—” His phone buzzed again, making him frown harder. He yanked it out and checked it again. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. You’re good?”
“I’m good.”
He nodded once. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”
I walked him to the door, letting myself take in all six-foot-whatever of muscle and man. He stepped out and turned to me. “Lock the door behind me.”
“Always.”
I leaned against the frame and watched him. He was about halfway down the sidewalk when impulse got the better of me. “DeAndre?”
He paused and spun back. “Yeah?”
“On second thought, I am tired of being alone. Come back later, after you’re off? Have dinner with me?”
He simply stared at me for a long moment, and I could see the wheels spinning in his mind as he struggled to interpret my invitation. I was fully aware that he had no idea how to categorize me in his life. Friend or foe. Business or pleasure. Something else altogether different. Hell, neither did I. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t eat a meal together and discuss the case we were working on since there were so few people I could talk to about it, including my own best friend.
“Just dinner,” I clarified. “And we can talk about anything new I dig up.”
“Okay,” he finally relented, though his expression was tight. “I’ll pick up some food and fill you in on what I find out after the briefing.”
All business. DeAndre hid behind his Tito persona so well. I understood it, I did. He had a job to do, and I was a part of that mission. But that didn’t stop the pinch of hurt feelings every time he looked at me like he might see something other than the enemy, only to feel his invisible walls slam back down the moment we shared even a glimmer of something that felt personal.
I nodded, shoving any emotions I might have for DeAndre “Tito” Johnson firmly away. “Great.”
DeAndre
I headed back to HQ a jumble of confusion.
Brianne Kennard was an asset. Part of the mission to take down Shadeek. Plain and simple. But my traitorous fucking body could only see the woman who looked at me like she wanted something from me that I couldn’t give.
And those unreal blue eyes. Christ.
I was only human, and she put my willpower to the test like nothing and no one had before.
But I was a Marine. A leader. A trained killer. I could handle one little lady and my goddamned hormones.
With a grumble trapped in my throat, I turned into a parking space and headed inside.
My SEAL brother, Wolf, greeted me first, as usual. “Hey, man. What’s new?”
“Not much. She’s got nothing.”
Disappointment clouded his features. “Fuck.”
Tex barely glanced up from his double computer screens. “It’s not a wonder. Shadeek’s got his shit better fortified than Fort Knox with a chastity belt.”
“The hell?” Wolf barked out a choked laugh.
Tex bit back a grin. “Sorry. It sounded funnier in my head. Not enough sleep and too much bullshit. Shadeek’s an asshole.”
“You won’t get any argument from me on that,” Wolf agreed, plopping down with a water bottle and opening the file of intel in front of him to show me.
As we poured over what precious little we had, which wasn’t much more than we had the day before, more of our teams piled inside and crowded around the conference room table, ready to get to work. We’d all had enough of the bullshit. We’d brought down the drug lord, Marco Esteban, and crippled his cartel so they were barely a blip on the radar anymore. Now it was time to do the same to Shadeek, who’d been supplying him with arms—the two of them creating more casualties than a small war and more trouble for both of our teams than they were worth.
“Any word on if Shadeek is claiming responsibility for the Wimbledon attack?” Red asked from where he stood, leaning against the wall in the corner of the room.
Wolf looked to me.
“No,” I said. “There has been chatter about Mikhail Kovach from Serbia, but I think it’s all bullshit smoke and mirrors. All signs point to Shadeek. This has his signature all over it. I’d bet my left nut when the forensics come back, it’ll prove to be him, whether he claims it or not.”
“I agree,” Wolf added. “Until we know otherwise, we keep our focus solely on Shadeek. Our mission—”
His words were cut off when his teammate, Abe, burst through the door, his eyes wide and panicked.
“Abe?” Dude stood at attention immediately, his gaze darting around the perimeter for threats, while the rest of the team silently closed ranks.
Wolf strode over. “What is it, brother?”
Abe was visibly shaken, his face pale. He raked a hand over his head. “It’s Alicia, man.”
Wolf paused, confused. “Your sister?”
“Yeah. I can’t . . .” Abe blinked up at him, obviously fighting to control his emotions. “She’s on vacation. In England.” He swallowed hard. “She’s a tennis nut, brother. This trip was a bucket list thing for her.”
Wolf’s face cleared as understanding dawned. “She was at Wimbledon?”
Abe nodded. “I think so.”
“Did you call her?”
“I tried. I can’t get through to her. Her cell doesn’t work over there, and the hotel she’s staying at doesn’t have any information.” He began to pace. “I’m losing my fucking mind, Wolf. What if . . .? Oh, God.”
Wolf glanced at me in a silent request. I nodded.
“What’s her name?” I asked quietly.
Abe shot me a look. “Alicia Marie Powers.”
I nodded and stepped out to start making calls to see what I could find out. Behind me, I heard the others reassuring him that in a crowd that size, she was probably okay, but I was sure it would fall on deaf ears until he knew she was safe. I had a sister, too. I understood.
Tex and Lucky pushed out into the hallway a few minutes later.
“Any luck?” Tex asked, indicating the phone in my hand as I punched out a text.
“No. They’re working on notifying all the victims’ families now, and I’ve got a message in at both of the hospitals where they took victims. Hopefully, I’ll get a call back with news soon if she was taken to either one. I’ve also left messages with the hotel manager to call me if she shows up there, and with my contact in the police force. He’s ex-SAS and we met in Afghanistan. He’ll hook me up if there’s any news.”
Tex nodded. “Thanks, man.”
I finished the text to my sister, just checking in and telling her I loved her, hit send then tucked the phone away. “So . . . where does this leave us?”
“Same place we were, unfortunately,” Tex said. “Unless Brianne can find a way to worm through Shadeek’s firewalls that I can’t.”
I grunted out a non-reply.
I felt Lucky’s appraising stare. “When are you going over to talk to her again?” he asked.
“When are you?” I shot back. Hell, his wife was her best friend. They were the ones all chummy with her. Maybe Brianne was right. Maybe Lucky should be her handler or whatever the hell she wanted to call it.
He lifted a brow. “Got a burr under your saddle, Tito?”
“Fuck off.”
He just laughed. “A blonde burr?”
“I said. Fuck. Off.”
This just made him laugh harder. “Wow. Who would’ve thought?”
I got right up in his face, forcing the smile from his lips as I backed him into the wall. “Nobody better be thinking anything, got it? Now shut the fuck up about it before I send your ass to the commander.”
“For wh
at?”
I stepped back, knowing full well I was out of line but unable to help it. “For being an asshole.”
He didn’t move, and I could feel Tex’s stare at my back, but thankfully he didn’t say a word and let Lucky and I handle our own business. “I’m not sure what’s going on between you and Brianne,” Lucky said, his voice low and serious, “but I would suggest you figure it out because I’m not the one being an asshole.” He shoved past me, his shoulder bumping mine, then he paused and spun back, his eyes fierce. “You’re the best Marine I know, Tito. You’ve always been a fair and honest leader. We can always trust you to have our backs. But if you’re going to let a woman turn you upside down . . . you know what? Why don’t you take the advice you gave to me when I was in your shoes?”
I lifted my eyes and met his. “Yeah? And what was that?” I croaked.
“Sometimes it’s okay to trust your gut and have faith in someone.”
“Faith?” I spat the word like it was rotten. Marines didn’t operate on faith—especially not those in recon. We operated on the concrete intelligence bought with our own blood, sweat, and tears. My father, a Marine and my hero, had taught me that.
“Yeah. She’s not the enemy, man.”
I shot Tex a glance, but his expression was stoic and unreadable as he turned away. “How could you possibly know that, Lucky?” I asked, suddenly desperate to believe him.
He lifted his left hand, displaying his wedding band. “I just do, brother.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but my phone rang in my pocket. I yanked it out and answered when I saw it was my friend from the SAS. “Daniels! Whatcha know?”
“Tito, mate. How are ya?”
“I’m good, thanks. Do you have any word on my friend’s sister?”
“Actually, I do, but it’s not great.”
I glanced up at Tex. “Was she a casualty?”
“No, but she was injured. She’s in surgery now. From what I understand, it’s a broken leg and some internal bleeding. They’ve stabilized her, and she’s expected to survive, but it will be a bit of a long recovery process for her. I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, friend. I’ll pass the information along to her brother.”
“I’ll make sure someone is there when she wakes up from surgery to let her know her family has been updated.”
“I appreciate that.”
We hung up, and I dropped my head to get my thoughts together. After a moment, I spun to go give Abe the news.
He took it better than I expected. I think he was just relieved to know something and that she was alive.
“We’ll make sure you’re on the first flight out to England,” Wolf offered.
“No need.” Abe lifted a hand. “My mom will want to be there. I’ll go see her later, and honestly, I’d rather be here with the team to catch the fucker who put her in the hospital to begin with.” Anger laced his words.
Anger we all felt.
“Alright, brother. If you’re sure,” Wolf said.
“I’m sure.”
Abe took a few minutes to call his family then we slowly moved back to our meeting, mapping out training and plans with what intel we had, though we needed more and stat. Through it all, Lucky’s words reverberated through my mind like a gong.
Have faith in Brianne?
She wasn’t the enemy?
I still wasn’t sure . . .
But, at this point, I had nothing more to lose, and everything to gain. I could control my wayward desires if it meant putting that sick fuck down and avenging my buddy Abe’s sister, not to mention the countless other victims that Shadeek had hurt.
It was time to do more than let her help.
It was time to trust her and myself.
Brianne
I couldn’t pinpoint it, but something was different about DeAndre when he showed up at my place that evening, Chinese takeout in hand. Freer somehow. Less guarded.
I had no idea what had brought about the changes, or even how I knew they were there exactly—other than studying the man had become a bit of an obsession—but I liked them. His smiles were a bit easier. His green eyes brighter and more open, less assessing.
“So,” he said as we dug into the rice and assortment of dishes he’d brought over. “How did you make out today?”
I fought the automatic groan. “Slow.”
He nodded. “You think he’s got someone else like you covering his tracks now?”
“Oh, I’m sure he does. But I’m not stupid. I left a few trap doors behind in the firewalls that I can still worm my way into. I’m close on one of them, I just need a little bit more time.”
He looked up at me, eggroll halfway to his mouth. “Really?”
I wanted to smile, but I didn’t. “Really. I’ll get in. Don’t worry about that.” I picked up my own eggroll and took a bite. “Soon.”
He dropped his eggroll to his plate. “Yeah?”
Now I did smile. “Why do you act so surprised? This is why you brought me on board, right? It’s what I do.”
“I . . . well, yeah.” I loved how the big Marine stumbled over his words. “I know it’s what you do, I just didn’t expect you to do it so fast.”
I lifted a brow. “It’s not like I have anything else to do.”
I’d never seen a black man blush, but I think he might’ve as he turned back to his food, and I couldn’t help but wonder what in the world he was thinking. “You’re not a prisoner, Brianne. You know that.”
“No, but I have nowhere to go. Nowhere safe anyway. Isn’t that basically the same thing?”
Those haunting eyes lifted to mine. “I guess so. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.” As our gazes held, I would’ve sworn something sparked between us, but he quickly glanced away and forked up more rice.
We ate in silence for a while until I couldn’t take it anymore. “So, did you find out anything new today?” I asked.
Something I couldn’t name flickered across his features, but he quickly banked it. “Nobody’s claimed responsibility for the bombing at Wimbledon yet, but it’s got Shadeek’s signature all over it. I think it’s only a matter of time before we know it was him. You were right, and I should’ve listened to you.”
“DeAndre—”
“No. I should’ve listened, and I will from now on because not listening got sixty-four casualties and seventy-eight wounded in England, one of them a friend’s sister.”
I gasped. “Oh, God. Is she alright?”
“She has severe injuries and a long road of recovery ahead of her, but she’s alive. No thanks to me.”
Unable to help myself, I reached across the table and cupped his fist. “It’s not your fault, DeAndre. Even if you would’ve listened to me, there’s no way we would’ve figured out what he was going to do and stopped it in time. You can’t take this on yourself. He did this. Not you.”
He didn’t meet my gaze. Instead, he studied my small hand over his much larger one. Ivory flesh on dark. Soft to work-roughened. He didn’t pull away as I would’ve expected him to, and my heart began to pound a strong, steady thrum as it awakened in my chest at our touch. “DeAndre?” I whispered.
Slowly, so slowly, he stretched out his fist until his hand was flat on the table and mine laid on top, our fingers loosely interlaced. The stark differences in size and color became even more apparent like this. Now, he lifted his gaze to mine. “I need you to help me stop him.” His words were low and pained, as if drawn from somewhere deep inside of him that survived on something much more than the mission.
“I will,” I swore.
And in that moment, I knew I would sell my soul to help this man. I was already doing my best to crack into the network, but when he looked at me like I was going to be his salvation, I knew I would type my fingers to bloody stumps and stare at screens until I was bleary and blind for him. Because I’d never been anything special to anyone before, but I’d fight to the death to be something spec
ial to this man—the man who, even if he never knew it, had literally saved my life in every way you can save someone.
After dinner, I offered him coffee, but he declined, so I booted up my computer and showed him where I was on breaking back through the wormholes I’d left behind in the backdoor of the code I’d helped to create in Shadeek’s firewall. It was complicated, but I would get there. I was more determined than ever.
I caught myself about fifteen minutes into my computer geek talk and stopped mid-sentence. “Sorry. That’s probably more than you wanted to hear. I’ll go over it in more detail with Tex if you want.”
He glanced up from the screen, surprised. “I’m following you just fine. I’m impressed.”
A hot blush burned my cheeks. “Thank you.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket. “Excuse me.” He pulled it out and checked the screen, typed something back, then tucked it away. “Sorry. The guys.”
“Do you need to leave?”
“I . . .” His jaw ticked when his phone went off again. “I’m so sorry.” He yanked it out and shot off another text then glanced up. “Yes. I’m supposed to be meeting them . . .” He hesitated, obviously debating with himself. Maybe even with the person on the phone as they texted back and forth a couple more times as he murmured another apology. Finally, he seemed to relent and faced me again. “Why don’t you come with me?”
He couldn’t have shocked me more if he would’ve tasered me. “Go with you? Where?”
“It’s nothing official. Everyone is just getting together at a bar for some drinks to unwind.”
Now my phone pinged. I picked it up to read a text from my best friend.
Grace: Come out with us tonight. I miss you!
I glanced up. “Were you put up to asking me to tag along?”
“What? No. You deserve a night out like everyone else.”
I hesitated, but ultimately a night out with my bestie was too good to resist. I had been cooped up in this apartment for too long. “Give me a few minutes to change.”