The Single Lady Spy Series Boxset

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The Single Lady Spy Series Boxset Page 52

by Tara Brown


  But the focus on the kids and the damned new horse was consuming.

  I dried off and contemplated our Burrow situation. We had come up with a way to use CI to monitor the list by convincing the commander the people on it were our best suspects for either being the Master Key or seeking the Burrow. Two names hadn’t been added to the list we’d created at headquarters. Gustavo Servario and, of course, Fitz.

  Being the only one in contact with headquarters, it was Jack’s job to create the list and add the recs for surveillance and financial monitoring.

  He hadn’t come up with anything though. The surveillance had been rich people doing boring rich people things. Watching it, I had nearly choked seeing Servario at a party with a young blonde on his arm. She was beautiful and maybe twenty-five. She appeared to come from money too.

  “Mommy, can we swing?” Jules shouted from my bedroom. It actually meant could I push her on the swing at the park across the road.

  “Yeah, just give me a second.”

  “Mkay.”

  It still made me smile when she said it.

  I dragged on clothes and hurried downstairs to grab a coffee. I needed a second one if I was going to push her in the cool spring air. The warmth was coming, but it wasn't there yet. Soon. Locals had been telling us tales of opening their pools in the next couple of weeks. It felt like madness but nothing about the Canadian winter was what I’d expected. It wasn't arctic or so cold you thought you might die. It was mild and sort of pleasant. Boston had suffered a record snowfall that winter and I was okay with where I lived.

  I stepped out into the hall, freezing when I realized I was chest to chest with Coop. His hand was up like he might have been about to knock. “Hi,” I blurted.

  “Hi.” He was always calm around me. Too calm.

  “What’s up?” I lifted my gaze and hated the fact that he could still drag me into his stare.

  “Your mom wanted to tell you she’s going to grab some groceries. She’ll be back in about an hour.”

  “Oh.” I tried to act nonchalant. “Okay. Thanks.”

  He grinned like he knew something I didn't and turned, walking away casually.

  Leaning back on the closed bedroom door, I tried not to notice the scent of him in the air. It was wind and sweat and deodorant, and all of it was slowly becoming my favorite smell.

  After I hurried to the park with Jules, I played a game of tag with her on the slide and then pushed her on the swing. I couldn't help but smile at her squeals of delight, but my eyes never stopped scanning the area. The gun in the back of my jacket was illegal in Canada. Canadians were not fans of weapons the way us Americans were. I didn't care though. I carried it in case. I couldn't risk the kids, regardless of the fact that I believed we were safe.

  “Look, Mom. It’s Coop.” She giggled and pointed. My stomach fluttered as it always did when I watched him walk. Today’s winning outfit was tight Wranglers and a charcoal-gray sweater with a white polo underneath, collar out of course. His arms and chest made me clench my thighs but the crabby expression on his face saved me.

  In the two months since we agreed he should move on, he hadn’t brought up getting back together once. He had apparently given up on me, contrary to what he’d said.

  His steely blue eyes trapped me in a stare as he marched over, brooding about something until his gaze landed on my daughter. Immediately the hatred melted and was replaced by the brightest smile he had in stock. She kicked her legs and giggled, knowing the under-duck push was coming. He ran over to her, sort of crouched and in play mode. She squealed and I backed away, watching him torment her and then push her high enough to make my already tense stomach tighten more.

  She bounced and kicked, getting even more air. He ran around, pushing her back with so much force I thought—feared—she might actually go over the top of the swing set. He glanced back at me, in quite the offside manner and grunted, “You don't have to stay. I can push and bring her home.” He added, “Luce is here too.”

  “I can stay.” I bit my lip.

  “What do you think, Jules? Should Mommy go home and get on the treadmill, so her butt doesn't end up looking forty?”

  “Yeah.” Jules giggled. “Mommy, you don't want saggy butt.”

  He laughed and pushed, not bothering to give me another glimpse of his smirk.

  “Fine. I’ll go home and start baking those brownies Grandma loves.”

  Coop turned sharply. “NO! Not those brownies.”

  His face made me laugh harder. Brownies weren’t my weakness but they were his. I folded my arms and sauntered back to the house.

  When I got into the kitchen, I pulled out the secret recipe Mom always used. The brownies were actually chickpea and coconut sugar. It gave me great pleasure to secretly know that the ingredients were completely healthy and the taste was sinful, making Coop self-conscious about how many he ate. Little did he know, each one was packed with protein and fiber.

  “What are you doing?” Mom asked as she came in with her groceries and turned on the kettle to make tea.

  “Making brownies.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Still torturing Coop?”

  “Yup.”

  “I see.” She leaned on the counter. “Have you ever considered that maybe you love him enough?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I know I do. I don't need to consider it. What I need to consider is I just got out of a long-ass relationship with a douche nozzle who screwed me over and made me a fool. I need time to process that, not time to sleep with every agent I work with.”

  “Trust me, darling, you don't fall far from the tree in that respect.” A wicked grin crossed her lips.

  “Gross.” I cringed. “Mom!”

  “What?” She was suddenly innocent. “A lady never tells, but I will say this—you don't need to process anything, Evie. Your heart was never in that marriage, and you Americans and all this ‘time to process’ nonsense is a bit much for everyone else to bear.”

  “You’re just as American as I am.”

  “Hardly.” She snorted and filled the teapot with steaming hot water to warm it. “Just love someone and worry about the mechanics of it later.” A smile crept across her lips, perhaps remembering something. “Don't waste your heart. You won’t ever get this time back. Stop thinking and just feel.”

  “He’s young, Mom. He wants kids.”

  “You have kids.” She shrugged.

  “He will want his own one day. And he’ll want to get married.”

  Obviously annoyed with me, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “Let me guess, you will never marry again because one bad man made you feel like an idiot?”

  “I don't want to marry again.”

  “Liar.” She popped open her eyes, suddenly wild with passion. “Make no mistake, child. For the right man a girl is obliged to do anything. If he is willing to walk through fire for you, should you not do the same for him? He would leave CI and live a normal life for you.” She wrinkled her nose. “And that joke of a marriage you had was nothing, ever. That boy out there is ten times the man James thought he was. He is the person you should have married, and choosing to close that option off, because of James, lets that asshole win. Why let him ruin something amazing? That makes no sense to me.” She turned and made her tea.

  I stood, confused and frozen and filled with regret. As per the usual, she was right. Letting James live for one more moment in my head was a waste of energy and a waste of a perfect life that might be lived if not for him.

  Slowly, I placed the bowl on the counter and walked back through the door I had just come in. I didn't even know if I had closed it. My eyes were focused hard on the man pushing my child and making her giggle at the park across the road.

  He lifted his head, giving me a weird look as I got closer.

  “Mommy, did you run already?” Jules asked in her cute tone, but I just shook my head. My eyes were stuck on him.

  I swallowed hard, stopping just short of him. “Can we talk?


  He grabbed Jules and the swing as they swung back to him, nodding and seeming worried. “Jules, go see if Grandma is making the brownies or if your mom has ruined them.” He slowly lowered her to the dirt. She jumped off and ran for the house with Luce in tow. She offered a wave as she made her way across the grass. “Is something wrong?”

  “Yeah.” I bit my lip. “I’m an idiot.”

  “Well, I know that but what’s wrong?”

  It was impossible to say it so I stared, mouth agape.

  “Evie?” He was even cuter when he was impatient.

  “I like you.” Oh dear God, what was that?

  He laughed, giving me a strange look. “What?”

  Not sure how to fix the thing I’d said, I decided to roll with the lame high school comment. Surely I could be more eloquent than that. “I like the way you are with my kids and me and my family.” Nope, apparently not.

  He turned his head slightly, offering a confused face. “What?” he repeated.

  “I like you and the way you smell and the way you feel and how I feel when I’m with you. I feel safe.” It was getting worse and worse. I clamped my mouth shut.

  Shit.

  He laughed. “I like you too.”

  “No, I like you like you.” What did that even mean?

  His cheeks flushed. “I like you like you too.”

  I gave in to the idiocy I was clearly overcome with. “No. I want us to be together again.”

  One side of his mouth curved into a grin. “I want that too.”

  Neither of us moved. Plainly, we hadn't contemplated a next move. We stood frozen, staring at each other.

  “Okay. Good to know.” I turned and headed back to the house. Was he playing a game and was I suddenly fourteen?

  I went inside, sort of shocked he hadn’t followed me, and even more shocked he hadn’t told me to go fuck myself with the head games I played.

  Clearly, neither of us had a notion of what to do. Or maybe neither of us wanted to make the first move.

  Mitch gave me a weird look from the pan of brownies he was scooping batter into. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. You made the brownies?” I stepped closer, dipping my finger in the batter and taking a taste. I made the same face he was. We both knew the batter was horrid until the brownies had cooked and cooled. It didn't taste right until the intense chickpea flavor was cooked out.

  “Where’s Coop?” Mitch asked, eyeing the door. He was taller than I was now, closer to five foot six.

  I sighed and wrapped my arms around him, forcing a tween hug which he stiffened against, always making me feel like I was forcing him to love me.

  “Mom!” he moaned but I didn't relent. Jules came running in and flinging herself around me, always the one willing to have a hug.

  “I love you guys.”

  Mitch groaned but Jules nodded. “Love you too.” She lifted her face and grinned. “Love you, Mitchy.”

  He growled but I pinched him so he didn't say his usual mean retort.

  Mom came in smiling. “Finish those brownies, Mitchy.”

  He gave her a scowl. “Grandma, no one calls me that anymore.”

  “We all do.” She laughed.

  He stood up, proud of his height. “I’m taller than you all, so I get to decide. No more Mitchy.”

  Mom paused and shook her head. “Doesn't work for me.”

  I grinned at him, matching Jules’ look.

  “I got your back, Mitch,” Coop spoke from behind me. I jumped and turned, shocked to see him inside and eavesdropping. His eyes never left mine as he spoke, “No boy wants to be called anything but his name. Pet names are for girls.” He darted his stare to Mitch and offered him a wink.

  I cleared my throat and left the room, dragging Jules with me. “Time to practice your words for spelling.”

  She moaned like Mitch had. The last two months had been remarkably similar to my old life. We had fit into a pattern and I was enjoying the normalcy of it all. If only I could find a way to fix things with Coop.

  10

  That darned arms dealer

  “Evie?”

  I lifted my gaze from the pillow, blinking again and again until my vision cleared.

  “Evie?”

  There was no one in the room with me, no one I could see. I reached for the light, flicking it on but there was no one.

  The door to my bedroom opened, making me jump. Coop poked his head in, giving me a grin. “Sleeping?”

  “No,” I lied for no reason at all and not convincingly.

  “I heard you snoring.”

  “I don't snore.”

  He laughed. “Or poo?”

  “You know me better than that. I love pooing.” I scoffed and sat up, realizing I had slept naked when his eyes lowered to my bare breasts. I gasped and tugged the sheets up. “What do you want?”

  He stepped in and closed the door, leaning his back against it. “I think that's fairly obvious.”

  “You want a booty call?” I was lost.

  “No.” He walked to the bed and smiled in a way that made me wish I’d showered before bed. “I want to talk about earlier.”

  I yawned and lay back, covering myself more. “Can we talk tomorrow?”

  “No. I can’t sleep. I’m lying down there thinking nonstop. I need you to tell me what you meant.”

  I stretched and flicked the light off. “Just come and lie down. We can talk tomorrow.”

  “You’re naked.”

  “You’re almost a minor and I’m a cougar; we should be fine.” I sniggered but he didn't laugh. He pulled off his clothes and climbed in, far too close. His warm body pressed up next to mine made me doubt we would talk at all.

  And I was right to be doubtful because he didn't talk. He sighed and moved his head back and forth, breaking the pillow in, and then lifted his hands up behind his head and closed his eyes. The moment he relaxed, I was wide awake, maybe because of the smell of him or the feel of him, or that I’d not had sex in months.

  In the moonlight I was stuck on the curves of his arm and face. I wanted to suck his lips and ride his—shit! Had he done this on purpose?

  I rolled onto my back and let the blankets slip down a little, revealing a little nipple to the cool air of the room. I positioned my back so my breast stuck out. His breathing slowed and became deeper just as it always did right before he fell asleep. He hadn’t noticed which meant he was truly going to sleep. Maybe it also meant I was imagining things.

  I rolled away from him, pulling up the covers once more.

  Eventually, I fell asleep, but it was restless and lacked the peace of sleeping alone.

  When I woke, I was crusty eyed and exhausted. It was similar to waking next to James, or maybe just being married—going to bed annoyed or unsatisfied and waking with what felt like a hang-on. I didn't miss that.

  The thing that wasn't like waking next to James was the face I saw when I opened my eyes. I blinked and discovered he had been watching me sleep. I wiped my mouth and winced. “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing.” He offered a bit of a sly grin. “You were talking in your sleep. I think you woke yourself up.”

  James had told me the same thing several times.

  “What did I say?”

  The grin grew. “That you love me.”

  “I did not. What did I say?” I swatted him in the arm, right where he had been shot. The scar was something I normally avoided. I hated remembering that day.

  “You did.” His eyes widened and I knew he wasn't lying. He reached over and dragged me across the bed to him, pressing our bodies against each other. “You said you loved me even though I was a bratty kid.”

  The words sounded right. I sighed. “I have to get up.” I pushed on his chest but it was pointless. He held me firmly against him. Making the mistake I always made with him, I glanced up into his steely blue eyes. That was always the end of me and the fight mustered against him.

  “You aren’t getting u
p.” He smiled wide. “Unless it’s to ride my co—”

  “Whoa!” I pulled back, cutting him off. “Let’s not start the day with dirty talk.”

  He lowered his face, feathering his lips against mine and then speaking softly, “Then let’s start it with make-up sex.” His tongue and lips pried my mouth open, sliding against me. The way he moved, it felt like he was tense, but I realized he was moving with purpose when he lifted himself and was lying overtop me. He pulled me to him, wrapping himself around me and holding tight. It was slow and lingering, the way he touched and kissed. I wondered how he didn't have morning breath and tried not to think about mine.

  His fingers dug in as he tilted his head and kissed my neck. His rigid cock pressed into my hip and I froze. “I can’t do this.”

  He kissed my neck, nodding. “Yes, you can.”

  “I actually can’t.” I pushed him off me. He sighed, clearly more invested than I was. A slow and possibly mocking smile crept across my lips. “I have to have breakfast and coffee and water and perform my ablutions before I can do anything, in the morning.”

  He wrinkled his nose. “What?”

  “I have to have a—well, I won’t go to the bathroom if I orgasm in the morning.”

  “I don't under—” Disgust crept across his face. “Oh.” He leaned back, obviously uncomfortable with the fact that I was a real girl—woman—human. “So, rain check?” He looked put off.

  “Sure.” I was annoyed that he was bothered. I reached over and took my cell phone and climbed from the bed. I needed coffee before I could attempt to fix the disaster I was in the middle of creating. First the complete disaster of “I like you” in the yard and now this.

  Ugh . . .

  I hurried to my closet, hating that his eyes were on my bare ass. Why had I gone to bed naked?

  When I got downstairs, Fitz offered me a coffee and a grin. He knew something.

  “Morning.” I snapped my eyes shut and moaned, stretching and taking the coffee. I refused to notice his amused face.

  “Have a good sleep, Evie?”

  I slowly blinked as a response.

  “Me either. Too warm in my room last night.” He shrugged. “Must be something in the air, spring and humidity maybe.” He winked and strolled to the table.

 

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