by Lara Lacombe
“Smart.” Skip made another deposit into his bottle. “So we’re on our own.”
“I’m afraid so,” Matt said. “Is that a deal breaker?”
For the first time, Skip smiled. “More like a deal maker,” he said. “I prefer not tripping over cops while we work.”
A waitress approached their table, and Skip clammed up again. Matt and Emma ordered drinks, and she left with a promise to bring Dave another beer.
Matt leaned forward, pitching his voice low even though the surrounding tables were empty. “I know there are no guarantees for this kind of work, but I’d prefer if you gentlemen aimed to maim rather than terminate, if you get my drift.”
Emma tensed beside him, drawing in a quick breath as she processed his words. He hated to talk about such matters in front of her, but she needed to know this wasn’t going to be a bloodless endeavor. People were going to get hurt, perhaps even killed. And while he wouldn’t shed a tear if any traffickers didn’t make it out alive, he’d much prefer for them to face the justice system.
“Gotcha,” Dave replied. “We’ll try to keep the training wheels on.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked. She fumbled with the napkin wrapped around a bundle of silverware, her fingers picking at the edges of the paper ring that held it all together.
Dave noticed her actions and slid a glance to Matt, as if to say, You sure she can handle this?
Matt nodded confidently. Emma might look fragile to an outsider, but he knew she had a core of steel. She was as tough as any man he’d served with, something Dave and Skip would discover for themselves soon enough.
“I’m not sure yet, ma’am,” Dave said. “Once we decide where to set the meet, we can draw up a more concrete plan.”
“I already know where we’re going to meet them,” Matt announced.
Emma’s head swiveled to face him. “You do?”
He nodded. “The truck stop diner, Donuts and Diesel.”
Her expression was incredulous. “Where they found us before?” She sounded less than impressed with his idea.
“The one and the same.”
Dave nodded in agreement, even as Emma asked, “Why do you want to go back there?”
“Makes sense to me,” Skip said.
Emma shot him a look. “Well, I’m not getting it. So can someone please explain it to me?”
Matt placed his hand over hers, stilling her nervous fingers. “The traffickers aren’t going to like it when you take control and dictate the location of the meet. They’ll be even more suspicious if you suggest some remote spot—they’ll figure they’re being set up. So you’re going to request a public place, one they know you’re familiar with. They won’t anticipate any trouble, because they know you’re on the run.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “But what about the other people? I don’t want anyone to get hurt because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I don’t either,” Matt said.
“Which is where we come in,” Dave interrupted. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but we have our own people. Once you tell us where this diner is, we’ll put the wheels in motion and take care of things.”
“I see.” But her tone made it clear she wasn’t convinced. “Won’t the traffickers realize something is wrong as soon as they walk in? No offense, but if your people all look like you—” she gestured to Dave and Skip’s military-issue buzz cuts and muscled arms “—it’s going to be pretty obvious things aren’t what they seem.”
Dave turned to Skip. “She doesn’t think we can blend in.”
“Nope,” said Skip.
“I’m guessing you didn’t tell her what we did in the army?” Dave asked.
Matt ran a hand through his hair. “It didn’t come up.”
Emma looked at the men, then back at Matt. “What am I missing?”
Dave smiled, baring his teeth. “We won’t be in the diner. We’ll be watching over you from the rooftop, or maybe a nearby building.”
Matt could tell by her frown she still wasn’t getting it. “They’re snipers,” he explained. “Masters of disguise.”
“Oh.” Realization dawned on her face, followed by a shadow of worry. “So I’m going to have to talk to these guys alone?”
“Nope,” Skip repeated. “Remember, our people will be there. You’ll just look alone.”
“I see.”
They fell silent as the waitress returned with their drinks. They ordered food, and as the woman walked away, Christina began to stir.
Matt flipped up the shade on her car seat and extracted her from its confines. “Morning, sunshine,” he said softly.
Christina blinked and looked around, clearly trying to reorient herself. Matt didn’t envy her confusion—it had to be hard being a baby. Fall asleep in one place, wake up in another with no explanation of how you got there.
She saw her mother and let out a plaintive cry. Matt passed her over, his heart softening as he watched the baby nuzzle into the side of Emma’s neck.
“I’m going to go change her,” Emma said. Matt rose from the table, putting a hand on her arm to help her scoot free of the booth.
“Need help?”
Emma shot him a startled look. “No, I’ve got it. Thanks, though.” She shouldered her bag and headed for the bathroom, rubbing Christina’s back as she walked.
Matt watched them until the door closed behind her. When he turned back to the table, Dave and Skip were eyeing him with undisguised curiosity.
“So, LT,” Dave began. “Got anything you want to add to your situation report?”
Matt resisted the urge to shift in his seat, knowing the men would pick up on the gesture. “What do you mean?”
“Pretty lady,” Skip said. “Cute kid.”
“That’s true,” he hedged.
“Does she know?” Dave asked.
“Know what?” Matt had a sinking suspicion Dave was onto him; his next question confirmed it.
“Does she know how you feel about her?”
Matt sighed and reached for his water. “I think so.”
“Just think?” Skip’s gaze was disturbingly perceptive. Matt normally appreciated that quality in the other man, but found he didn’t enjoy being under the microscope himself.
“We haven’t really talked about it,” Matt replied.
“You should,” Dave said.
Matt shook his head. “What is this, some kind of messed up intervention? Since when did you two become guidance counselors?”
Dave shrugged. Skip brought the bottle to his mouth again.
“Life’s too short, man,” Dave said.
“Yep,” agreed Skip.
Matt looked away, focusing on the door to the restroom. “Yeah, well,” he muttered. “We haven’t exactly had a chance to sit down and talk.” Though they had taken advantage of the earlier lull in other ways. Heat suffused his body as he recalled the feel of her skin, the scent of her hair. The way she’d moved with him, joining him perfectly. For those endless moments, they’d held each other’s hearts. Surely she’d sensed his emotions, realized the depth of his feelings?
“Make time,” Dave urged. “You need to take a chance.”
Matt slid a glance at the man. “You’re sounding awfully new agey. Got anything of your own you want to tell me?”
Dave shut his mouth, but he couldn’t control the flush that appeared on the tips of his ears.
Matt grinned. “I see.”
“He’s in love,” Skip confirmed.
“Congratulations,” Matt said, meaning it. He was glad his friend had found happiness, even as he pitied the woman who was going to have to put up with him.
Dave smiled, his eyes going soft. “Thanks. Can’t believe I actually found someone. For a while there, I figured Skip and I were going to grow old together.”
> “Me, too,” Skip drawled. “That’s why I’m paying her.”
Dave ignored the jab. “Take it from me. If you think she’s the one, don’t let her slip through your fingers.”
“It’s not that simple,” Matt began, but Dave cut him off.
“It is. It really is.”
Matt sighed quietly, knowing his friend was right. If all went well, Emma would be free from the reach of the traffickers soon. If he really wanted to have a relationship with her, he had to talk to her sooner rather than later.
His brain recognized the fact that he was running out of time, but his heart didn’t want to bring up the topic while she was still worried about her mother. She was clearly grateful to him for his help—he needed to make sure she was free from danger before talking to her about the possibility of something more. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel that his assistance was in any way conditional.
“I’ll talk to her,” he said, taking another sip of water. “Soon,” he added, to stave off any further comments from Dave. The man was experiencing the first blush of love, and it was clear he was trying to recruit all his friends to join him in couple land. Matt wanted to be annoyed with him, but in truth, he would love to have a relationship with Emma. To feel that heady rush of excitement over something new, tempered with the comforting knowledge that he had a partner by his side.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Dave said. “Now, let’s get into the nitty-gritty before Miss Emma comes back.”
Matt nodded and leaned forward, grateful for the change of subject. He wasn’t sure what it said about him that he’d prefer to talk paramilitary strategy rather than discuss his feelings about Emma. Fortunately, he felt his normal confidence return as they began to iron out the basic details of the upcoming operation.
He might not know how to tell Emma about his feelings, but he was damn sure going to keep her and Christina safe.
* * *
Emma finished changing Christina, but she didn’t go back to the table right away. She gathered her daughter into her arms and swayed back and forth, enjoying the solid, warm weight of her baby against her chest. With so much going on, it felt good to take a time-out and simply be with her.
Dave and Skip seemed like they knew what they were doing. Both men sported wary eyes and hard smiles. They’d clearly seen combat, and while she wasn’t going to pretend to know what that was like, she’d watched enough news stories to recognize it was an experience that changed a man.
Matt apparently trusted the pair—he wouldn’t have called them otherwise. But Emma wasn’t ready to make that leap quite yet. They were only two men against the traffickers; Dave had promised her they had more people to call, but how long would that take? And would they really be able to plan something that wouldn’t tip off the traffickers?
She knew Matt had confidence in his friends’ ability to blend in, but did that extend to the other people who worked with them? Her mind kicked into overdrive, easily imagining a scenario where the men realized they were being played and shot her mother without pause.
But more than that, more than her worries over her mom and yes, even Joseph, too, Emma was scared to death of putting Christina in jeopardy. The unpredictability of the situation bothered her most. Matt and his friends were starting from the assumption the traffickers were rational men. She wasn’t so sure. What was going to stop them from shooting her on sight and taking her baby? Once they had her in arm’s reach, there would be no further need for them to pretend they were there to make an exchange. It would be easy for them to kill her and make off with Christina before Dave or Skip or their friends could act.
And what about Matt? Where would he be while this was going on? She’d feel a lot better if he was by her side. From searching in the desert to the events of the past day, she’d grown used to having him around. She was starting to take his presence for granted, even though she recognized it was a mistake to do so. When all this was over, she and Christina were going back to El Paso. Given her earlier conversation with Matt, he wasn’t going to be interested in joining them there.
Emma pressed her cheek against the side of Christina’s head, breathing in the scents of shampoo and her soft skin. “I’m sorry, baby,” she said quietly. “I know life has been crazy lately. It’ll go back to normal soon, I promise.”
Though after this scare, she wasn’t sure she could leave Christina in day care while she worked. She was going to have a hard time with any separation from her baby, no matter how routine it may have been before.
“We’ll figure it out,” she promised. There wasn’t any other choice; she wouldn’t have Matt’s help any longer.
A woman entered the restroom and gave her a funny look as she skirted Emma to enter a stall. Emma realized it probably seemed strange that she was standing in the middle of the place, rocking her baby as if she were trying to put her to sleep. “Time to go back,” she said softly. Maybe the food had been delivered by now. Hopefully they could eat quickly and leave—being out of the hotel room made her feel exposed and vulnerable, despite knowing she was safe with Matt and his friends. Paranoia nipped at her heels, making her wonder if everyone they saw was somehow connected to the traffickers. That woman, for instance—did she have her phone out in the stall, punching in a text message to her contact?
Emma shook her head, hating the way her nerves were hijacking her brain. But until she knew the traffickers were no longer a threat, she was going to wonder...
She shouldered her bag once more and headed back to the table. Matt stood to allow her to slide back into the booth. “Want me to get a high chair?”
“Yes, please.”
He left, and she glanced over at Dave and Skip. Their food had arrived, but she noticed neither man had started eating. “I hope you weren’t waiting for me,” she said. “I didn’t mean to take so long.”
Skip shrugged. Dave said, “It’s not a problem, ma’am. We all eat pretty fast, thanks to the army. Didn’t want you coming back to find our plates empty.”
“Well, thanks, then.”
Matt returned with a wooden high chair that looked like it had seen better days. But the safety strap seemed to be in working order, so Emma buckled Christina in and silently vowed to bathe her when they returned to the hotel.
“I’ll switch places with you,” Matt offered. “That way you can still sit by her.”
She stood, allowing him to move past her. Space was tight, and he brushed against her butt as he entered the booth. The contact was innocent enough, but it sent a zing through her legs and made her stomach flutter.
She sank down, hoping the men didn’t notice her blush. Her skin felt tight, like it was too small for her body. She focused on mashing up some vegetables for Christina, waiting for her unwanted reaction to pass.
They all ate quietly for a few minutes. “Did you finish making your plans?” she asked. She wasn’t sure how long the men needed to come up with a strategy, but since everyone seemed more interested in chewing than talking, she figured maybe they hadn’t required much time.
“Pretty much,” Dave said. He took a healthy bite of his burger but offered no additional information.
“And?” Was she going to have to beg them to fill her in? Her jaw clenched in frustration—whatever they’d come up with, she was going to have to play a part in the activities. Why didn’t they seem interested in making sure she knew what to expect?
“I’ll tell you later,” Matt said. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
He sounded so calm, but his words of reassurance didn’t help her nerves. Still, he’d brought her this far. She was just going to have to trust him a bit longer.
What other choice did she have?
Chapter 13
It was late when they returned to the hotel room. Matt had spent the drive back from the restaurant filling her in on the basic details of the plan to stop the traf
fickers. He could tell from her body language that Emma wasn’t totally on board with the strategy, but she’d put on a brave face. He wondered if there was anything he could do or say to make her feel more comfortable—she had to be nervous, but he wanted her to understand that tomorrow she was going to be safer than she thought.
The plan was for Skip to drive her to the diner. He’d stay in the car, pretending to be Matt, while Emma met with the men. Dave was going to provide cover from the overgrown lot across the road from the truck stop.
Dave and Skip were two of the finest men he’d served with. They’d stayed in touch after they’d all left the army, and he’d followed their burgeoning private security business with interest. They’d offered him a position several times, but he’d always turned them down. Now, though, after feeling the rush that came with planning an operation, he was starting to wonder if he’d made the right decision.
“You’re excited.”
Matt turned to face Emma. She was sitting on the bed, snapping Christina into her pajamas. She didn’t look unhappy with him; if anything, her expression was one of acceptance, as if she’d come to peace with something.
“I am,” he confirmed. “But not in the way you think.”
“Oh?”
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the words to explain his mood. “My adrenaline is up, that’s true. But not because I’m happy about what we’re going to do tomorrow. I wish we didn’t have to confront these men, that your mother wasn’t suffering at their hands.”
A shudder passed through her. “Me, too.”
“We’ve got a solid plan, though,” he said. “And I’m confident we can save her.”
“Are you looking forward to being in the action again? It’s probably a lot different from your normal day-to-day activities.”
“It is,” he said. “And again, it’s not something I’m going to celebrate. But I’m not going to shy away from it, either.”
She didn’t reply, instead busying herself with arranging the pillows on the bed. He recognized her behavior for what it was: an expression of nervous energy.