by Cat Johnson
“Welcome. Can I get you something to drink?” the middle-aged male server asked.
“Can I see a wine list, please?” Dale asked.
He prepared himself for the man to try to show off his wine expertise. He was going to need some alcohol in his system to deal with that. “Beer, please.”
The man rattled off a list of brands. He settled on one and turned back to Dale, who still had his nose buried in the leather portfolio containing the wine list.
“So, Dale, what do you do for a living?”
Dale looked up. “Actually, I’m happily living a life of leisure.”
“Oh?” His eyes narrowed.
“He retired last year from the airline,” his mother supplied.
Or so he said . . .
“Did you? Which airline is that?”
“American. Twenty-five years I was with them.”
“Doing?” he prompted.
“I was the Executive Vice President in charge of communications.”
That explained why he was such a smooth talker.
“Dale flew us out here for free.” His mother squeezed Dale’s arm as she said it.
Dale nodded. “Yup. One of the perks of retiring from a position in executive leadership at an airline.”
“Of course,” he agreed, even if he didn’t have any clue about it. Which was dangerous.
This man could be selling his mother a load of bull and Brian wouldn’t know how to disprove it.
Maybe he could find something online—
“Brian, you and Dale have something in common,” his mother began.
“Oh?” he asked.
She nodded. “Dale was in the military too.”
“Were you now?” Brian’s heart sped as he prepared to nail Dale to the wall. If he dared to lie about his service, he’d catch him.
“Air Force. Did my twenty and retired.”
“Where’d you serve?” he asked, leaning forward, ready to pounce.
“A few places but my favorite, and where I was when I retired, was Hickam.” Dale turned toward Brian’s mother. “I can’t wait to show you Hawaii.”
“Dale’s taking me to Oahu after we leave here. It was a surprise. For my birthday.” She gazed into the man’s eyes.
Meanwhile, Brian’s brain spun, doing the math to see if it was possible this guy could do twenty years in the Air Force and then put in twenty-five at the airlines.
That would put him in his mid-sixties. He supposed the guy could be that old. Though he looked damn good for his age.
He went on to search his brain for who he might know who could get him military records on Dale.
“Brian?”
He glanced up to find his mother staring at him. “Yeah?”
“Dale asked if you’d like wine with dinner or if you’ll be sticking with beer?”
“Beer is fine. Thanks.”
Dale nodded and gazed up at the waiter he hadn’t noticed reapproach. “We’ll start with the one bottle then and move on from there.”
“Does anyone know what they’re ordering yet?” his mother asked.
He had yet to open his menu. It sat in front of him next to his yet untouched beer, so he answered, “Not yet.”
Dale smiled. “Order anything you want, son. Tonight’s my treat.”
At that, his mother gazed at Dale with such blind devotion Brian could feel his blood pressure rising.
“Thanks,” he managed to reply through clenched teeth.
Son. His treat.
He was so going to nail this guy to the wall the moment he found some evidence against him. He just needed a name. Later, when Dale wasn’t around, he’d ask his mom his last name. Say he might know some of the same people in Hickam or some shit like that.
Then, if—when—he caught this guy in a lie, he’d tear him a new one.
He couldn’t wait.
NINETEEN
The original voicemail sat, unopened, there on Alicia’s cell phone. But now it was accompanied by another, also unopened, also from her ex.
Alicia was usually on her phone all day. Checking social media or her email. Texting Shelly. Using the traffic app to see what she was in for on her commute. Reading the news and weather.
Not today.
Even after Shelly had left hours ago, she had barely touched the cell, except to make sure there were no more texts or messages from Greg.
The bastard had not only ruined her life. He’d ruined her phone. Or at least, her enjoyment of using it.
She was still scowling about that when a loud pounding on her door had her jumping.
It couldn’t be him, could it? She hadn’t considered that if she didn’t answer his calls he’d just show up.
She should have moved after they broke up. She definitely should have changed her phone number.
Creeping to the front window, she peered out the crack between the blinds and the glass and breathed in relief when she saw Brian’s Jeep parked outside.
Relieved beyond measure, she ran to the door, unlocked and opened it.
“Hi.” She smiled at the unexpected diversion.
He didn’t smile. In fact, it looked as if someone had died.
“Hey,” he said, eyes downcast, the corners of his mouth pulled down.
“Brian. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
It was obvious something was. He was always tall, dark and handsome but today his mood looked as black as his raven hair.
He raised his gaze to meet hers and said, “My mother.”
Her eyes widened as she feared the worst. That her next assignment as his fake girlfriend might be for a funeral.
“Oh, no. Is she all right?”
“She’s . . . dating.” He spat out the last word with such vitriol she couldn’t help her burst of a laugh.
“Jeez. Brian, I thought she’d died. Come inside and tell me why you’re so upset she’s dating.”
Scowling, he shuffled in, glancing back at her as she closed the door. “This isn’t going to be one of your head-shrinking sessions.”
She stopped to stare at him. “You really do hate therapists. And no, this is just me, your friend and favorite fake girlfriend, talking to you.” The man who’d made her come three times yesterday.
Batting that thought away, she followed him to the living room.
“Sit. You want a beer?” she asked.
“No.”
“No?” This was serious. He never said no to a beer.
“I had too many already tonight over dinner with my mother and Dale.”
Alicia pressed her lips together to avoid smiling at how he’d said the man’s name in a childishly mocking way.
She’d said this wasn’t a session but it was starting to feel like one as she sat in the chair opposite him and asked, “And why does her dating Dale upset you?”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Has he given you or her reason not to trust him?”
“No. Not yet. But he will.”
“And why are you so sure of that?”
“Because her boyfriends always have. Then I had to pick up the pieces.”
The answer to the question of why Brian wasn’t in a real relationship was becoming apparent.
She might have been starry eyed and ready to leap into love until Greg had broken her, but poor Brian never had a chance. His bad experiences with romance began much earlier in life. In childhood.
“Do you think she’s in danger with this man?” she asked.
His brow furrowed. “No.”
The word looked like it pained him to say. Like it was hard to admit Dale wasn’t as bad a man as Brian wanted him to be.
“I’m sorry you’re feeling this way. But your mother’s an adult. It’s her choice whom she dates, no matter what you think of him.”
The scowl was back.
“I guess.” Finally, he raised his gaze to her. “Sorry to bust in on you like this and lay all this on you.”
“Not a problem. That’s what fake girlf
riends are for.” She smiled.
He let out a short laugh. “Not really, but thanks.”
Now that she’d talked him off the proverbial ledge, his gaze dropped down her body, as if he’d just noticed she was in her favorite sleep shorts and tank top.
“I didn’t get you out of bed, did I?” He looked less concerned and more interested. As if he’d like to join her in that bed.
“No, but I was planning on heading to bed soon.”
Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it.
The voice in her head broadcast the warning.
She tried to fight it but the impulse won and the words spilled out as she said, “Would you maybe like to join me?”
Shit. She’d done it. Ignored the voice in her head telling her that she should not, under any circumstances, get down and dirty with Brian again.
As the smile that made her insides clench appeared on his formerly forlorn face, Alicia told the little voice inside her head to shut up.
His eyes met hers as he said, “Yeah. I’d like that.”
“Good.” She’d worry about the wisdom of the little voice tomorrow.
Brian was up off the sofa and standing in front of her in seconds, making her fully appreciate the peak physical condition of a Navy SEAL.
He pulled her up and out of the chair by one hand. She expected him to lead her to the bedroom. Instead, she found herself draped over his shoulder and staring at his superb butt as he strode across the living room.
“What are you doing?” She pounded on his back with one fist, which he ignored.
“Taking you to bed.”
“I’m getting dizzy.” And a little bit sick to her stomach as she bounced with each of his quick steps.
“We’re almost there.”
Brian was right. Seconds later she was bouncing on the mattress as he reached for the buttons on his shirt. She realized she’d never seen him in a button-down dress shirt before. He wore it well.
Then again, he looked good in everything . . . including nothing. She waited for that treat as she stripped in front of her.
Then he was right there, standing between her legs, focused on getting her equally naked.
He tossed a long strip of condoms on the bed next to her.
“Big plans.” She lifted a brow and looked up at him, taking note of his cock standing at attention and pointing straight at her.
His lips twitched in a smile. “Would be a shame to run out.”
Since there were eight condoms on the strip she didn’t think they were in danger of that. Still, it was too tempting to tease him.
As he crawled on top of her and brushed his lips down her throat on his way toward one nipple, she said, “If we did run out, we’d just have to get creative.”
He groaned against her breast and she smiled. Yup. He was definitely fun to tease.
A warning bell rang in her head at that thought. She could have fun with him now. But this could not be a permanent thing. No matter how good he was at what he did.
She had to remember that. But as he pushed her thighs wide and his mouth connected with her core she realized that would be hard to do.
Brian drove her to first one orgasm, then a second stronger one, with his mouth alone. Then he was inside her, her ankles on his shoulders, his hands gripping her legs as he drove deep.
He thrust until he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Until he was grunting with each stroke. Until he surged forward and shuddered inside her.
As he collapsed, crushing her beneath him, her legs still a captive of his grasp and his body pinning her beneath him, she’d never felt so dominated yet so powerful at the same time.
His back heaved with his breaths. His heart pounded against her face as it pressed to his chest.
He seemed lost. In the moment. In her.
She felt . . . connected. Warm. Soft. Content. Closer to him now than anyone else. She could get used to this—to him—here in her bed and in her life . . .
Brian lifted his head and grinned wide. “So, what kind of creative things did you have in mind?”
He waggled his eyebrows and the spell was broken. Thank God.
She couldn’t fall for him or for anybody. And she wasn’t going to. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t completely enjoy this. And him.
Glancing at the drawer in the side table next to the bed, she said, “There might be a few things in there we could use.”
As his eyes widened, he dove for the drawer and she couldn’t help but laugh.
Just fun. That was what this was. That was all it could be. Because a little fun, and amazing sex, wasn’t worth risking her heart.
Brian emerged from the drawer bearing her vibrator. He held the hot pink toy up and stared at her. “Is all the stuff in that drawer yours?”
“Yes. Who else’s would it be?” She laughed. “I mean I’ve shared clothes with my sister. And I’ve loaned a purse to my best friend Shelly, but sex toys? Ick. That’s totally different.”
Brian leaned back and perused the contents of the drawer again. She got to enjoy the view of his naked ass as he did, until he glanced back and caught her staring.
“There’s lube in here. And this . . .” He held up a butt plug, looking a bit shocked as he did.
“Yes. And?”
“You . . . use this?” He stared at it, then her.
“Yes.”
His mouth opened and then closed again. Finally, he said, “And we can, you know, use all this stuff now?”
“If you’d like.”
“Fuck yeah, I’d like.” As he tossed items onto the bed, she decided to let herself forget about tomorrow and just be engrossed in tonight.
She’d be strong and break this part of their relationship off tomorrow. For now, let the fun begin.
TWENTY
He was dehydrated and covered in sweat and lube, and he’d never felt better.
Flat on his back, panting as if he’d just run the obstacle course on base, he pivoted his head on the pillow to see Alicia next to him. “Hey. You wanna meet me at McP’s tomorrow afternoon?”
“Do you need me there?” she asked.
“Need you there?”
“For your teammates. For the ruse.”
The ruse. He’d had sex with this woman six ways to Sunday. It sure as hell didn’t feel like a ruse to him any longer.
He shook his head. “No. I mean one of the guys might be there but that’s not why I invited you. I thought it would be fun.”
She pressed her lips together and drew in a breath in a move that didn’t look promising. “I don’t think so. It’s probably best if we keep our arrangement professional. But thank you for the invitation.”
He huffed out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. Sure.”
Professional?
In his peripheral vision, he could see the pink vibrator and empty condom wrappers and the contradictions of this situation mounted.
He’d figured he spend the night like he had the first time they’d been together. Now, in light of her statement, that was looking less and less likely.
Glancing at the clock he said, “It’s getting late. I’ll get out of your way.”
As he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the mattress he half expected her to say he should stay. She didn’t. Instead, as he dressed, she stood, put her pajamas back on and started to gather the remnants of their sexual encounter.
With cool efficiency, she put the wrappers in the garbage, the lube in the drawer and the toys into the bathroom sink, he assumed to be cleaned. Then those too would be stowed away and his being there in her bed, in her, would only be a memory.
Why did that thought bother him? It shouldn’t. But it did.
It bothered him enough that after he said goodnight, without the expected accompanying kiss, he headed directly to a convenience store, picked up a six-pack and headed home.
He intended to drown out these strange new feelings, if it was the last thing he did.
What he needed was some ac
tion. Action of the non-sexual kind. Military action.
Maybe that was the problem. After being in the thick of things for three months, it was hard to acclimate to a world where his biggest problem was that Alicia didn’t want to meet him at McP’s.
An odd mood hung over him through the remainder of that night and through the next day. It lasted through his drive to the base Monday morning and all the way to the meeting room, where the rest of the team had beaten him.
“About time you got here,” Liam said, poking at Brian’s already inexplicably foul mood.
He shot Liam a sideways glance. “I’m on time.”
“You’re still last through the door.”
“Some of us have lives,” he hissed as the lieutenant commander headed to the front of the room.
Liam’s brows crept up as he shot Brian a look. “So things are going that good with the new woman that she’s got you rolling into meetings last, huh?”
Keeping his eyes forward as he wished this meeting would get started already, he lied, “Yup.”
“Anas Haqqani . . .” the lieutenant commander began.
The name stopped the low murmur of conversation in the room, silencing even Liam’s smart-ass comments about Brian’s love life.
The commander continued, “He’s the son of the late Jalaluddin Haqqani, founder of the Haqqani network, and youngest brother of Sirajuddin Haqqani, the current leader of the group and the deputy of the Taliban. Anas is one of the Haqqani militant group’s leading figures and fund-raiser. He’s also the prisoner who was released in 2019 along with two other senior militants in a prisoner exchange for two westerners.”
Brian stifled a rising groan as he waited to hear what new evil the man, who had once been imprisoned but had then been released, was perpetrating.
There was nothing worse than knowing they had captured the bad guys only to have some politician let them go.
“We have evidence that a group led by Anas is behind a recent attempted attack on Fatima Gailani, one of the negotiators representing the government side opposite the Taliban. There’s concerns they’ll try again in advance of the peace talks in Doha.”
“The same peace talks Anas is participating in on the Taliban side?” Pops’ brows rose.
The commander nodded. “Anas claims he’s a poet. An informant interviewed about the Gailani attack says otherwise.”