“That doesn’t mean he can’t screw someone else.” Bast knew that trick from experience. He saw the frustration in Wade’s eyes. Saw and recognized it.
“This conversation has probably taken a turn into not-our-business territory.” Jarrett leaned across the bar and grabbed a small bottle of seltzer water and a glass.
“True, but life would be easier for all of us if Wade and Elijah stopped circling each other like mad dogs in heat.”
Jarrett glanced over his shoulder at Becca before standing upright again. “That’s a lovely image.”
“I don’t believe in mincing words.” Becca looked at Bast as she said it. “What was Kyra’s take on all this?”
The woman sure knew how to go in for the kill. In Bast’s view, the CIA messed up in trying to eliminate Becca. With her in weapon mode, no one would be safe.
But Bast didn’t blink. “Kyra didn’t seem to know about Wade and Elijah.”
Becca started with a low whistle and ended with, “So many secrets.”
Nice try, but Bast still refused to blink. “That’s how we all make our money.”
“Join us for dinner.” Jarrett poured his drink, using a head nod toward the owner’s table to do the rest of the work for him.
Becca waved him off. “Actually, you two go ahead. I like when you have boy time.”
“Let me do a check-in with Wade first and get his sorry ass back to the bar.” After a quick follow-up kiss, Jarett took off in Wade’s direction.
Bast waited until Jarrett stepped out of hearing range. “You didn’t tell him about me and Kyra.”
“So you two are a thing now?”
“I didn’t say that.” He was sorry he said anything.
“That was fast. You fought it off for, what, all of two seconds.”
“You know what I meant.”
Becca shrugged. “This is your mess. You clean it up.”
“I’m happy we understand each other.”
“Do we?”
Clearly she didn’t plan to let this go. Not a surprise. Bast didn’t think he’d be that lucky. “Maybe not.”
Becca twisted the lid back and forth on the bottle Jarrett left on the bar. “Since you trapped Kyra in the locker room a half hour ago, I’m guessing you made up your mind to chase her.”
A man didn’t have any damn privacy these days. “Is there anywhere you don’t have cameras in this place?”
The screech of metal against glass from the bottle filled the air. “I’m not telling.”
Becca could twist things and threaten him and scowl all she wanted. Respecting her didn’t mean she got a say in his personal decisions. “We’re still not talking about my sex life.”
She returned the empty bottle to the bar, letting it click as the glass tapped against the wood. Every move seemed exaggerated, as if perfectly calculated to take longer than necessary and draw all the attention back to her.
Bast knew that was a really bad sign.
Her hand wrapped around the edge of the bar. “I’ll give you forty-eight hours to come clean to Jarrett.”
Yeah, she could throw out whatever timeline she wanted. Bast planned to ignore that, too. “It’s no more his business than it is yours.”
Becca leaned in and whispered against Bast’s cheek. “Then chase Kyra on someone else’s property.”
EIGHT
Elijah heard one of the large front double doors to the club open behind him but didn’t look up. The doorman hadn’t moved from the circle of light at the bottom of the town house steps a few feet away, which meant someone other than a member had come outside.
Only a few people would dare to follow him in this mood and signal the doorman to stay put, and Elijah knew which one this was. Didn’t even have to close his eyes and call on his senses to pinpoint the identity. The soft click of spiky heels and the subtle scent of perfume gave her away.
“George, could you give us a few minutes. You can wait closer to the door.” Only Becca could issue a command in that husky voice and have it play like a request.
“Yes, ma’am.” The doorman’s shoes thudded against the steps as he retreated.
Elijah envied the guy for getting to leave. Elijah wanted to but held his position on the sidewalk, backing up only to take them out of easy eavesdropping range of the doorman.
In these last days of summer the night hadn’t cooled off from the sticky humid day. The slight wind was as refreshing as standing in front of a hair dryer. The longer they stood there the more the heat caused his blazer to stick to his shirt, which clung to his back.
She didn’t show any sign of being affected by the warmth. A breeze caught her hair and whipped it back over her shoulders as she smiled. “You running from me?”
“Trying not to make a scene.”
Her smile grew even wider. “Too late.”
Seeing her in the sexy dress stunned him for a second. It hugged her body and highlighted everything a man would want highlighted. Not him. She, being a “she,” was not his type, but he could appreciate a beautiful woman when he saw one. Unfortunately he no longer wanted one. Thanks to Wade.
When Elijah had seen her dressed up on the job the clothes operated more as a uniform. All for show to get to a required end on an op. He suspected the smile on her face now and the ease with which she held herself stemmed from happiness. From something real.
He felt a kick of jealousy and wanted to shove away and leave. But he couldn’t exactly knock her over. Not and live to talk about it. Not that he would anyway. The days of them being at war were over and he didn’t go after people who didn’t deserve it. She’d earned his respect, though he was not ready to admit that to her yet.
But that didn’t mean he wanted a confrontation, not when he was still raw from seeing Wade. The hollowed-out sensation refused to go away and now Becca took up staring. Yeah, Elijah knew he should have hit the outside and kept moving until he got back to his shithole of a studio apartment. Waiting here for forgiveness that would never come had been a mistake and now he’d pay with an unwanted conversation.
She crossed her arms in front of her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you pace.”
Elijah didn’t even realize he was and forced his legs to still. “Burning off some energy.”
“You used to do that by punching people.”
He guessed it would be wrong to call those the good old days, so he kept that inside. “Bast frowns on that.”
After years in the field doing anything to get the job done and survive, Elijah’s view of civilized behavior needed work. He’d been trying to learn acceptable responses that didn’t involve a gun or knife, if only to keep from having to go on the run again. He owed Bast and Jarrett that much.
“Bast is a killjoy.” Becca laughed as she said it.
According to Bast, she did that a lot now. Bast credited her with drawing Jarrett back into humanity again. Elijah wanted to follow her lead and at least pretend to be normal, but he had no idea what the hell that was. Never did. His father’s yelling and talk of an almighty wrath fit with the world Elijah knew before. He preferred to find another one now.
“My boss has other qualities,” Elijah said.
“Like, offering second chances and providing a paycheck?”
Along with being decent and hardworking, as well as an example of how to dress and act in an office. All of that. “Yeah, those.”
Despite all the security lights and guards, darkness wound around them. A few men went in and out of the club but no one bothered them. Most steered clear, taking a wide circle to keep away from them. Word of Becca being Jarrett’s woman had spread fast and the club members treated her with extreme deference.
“Working with Bast brings you to the club.” She didn’t blink. Didn’t move. She stood long and lean with her gaze fixed on Elijah.
Now he knew how
her marks felt on the old jobs. She wove a spell and looked at you with those big eyes and you froze. Eli recognized her lethal nature, but this was something else. A strong woman on a mission and he sensed he’d crossed some line by coming into her territory.
“Are you trying to tell me to stay away from the club?” Because he fucking would. He needed an excuse to make him since he couldn’t break the magnetic pull on his own. Anything was better than having priority seating to Wade’s new relationship.
“No.”
“You sure?” Something moved in her eyes and Eli worried it might be pity. The thought made his frustration spike and a ball of anxiety roll in his stomach. “You own the place. It’s your right to say who gets inside.”
“Jarrett owns the club.”
“Don’t act like that guy wouldn’t turn over everything he owns to you and sign a contract in blood to make you happy.” Jarrett had flipped his life upside down and taken every risk to ensure her safety. And he did all that for a woman he at the time believed had betrayed him.
Bast called it love. Elijah called it stupid. Either way, it saved them all.
Information came to Jarrett in his job that made him a target. Todd Rivers, the man who once led their black-ops team, recognized it and capitalized on it. He turned a simple surveillance into a sting. He planted false evidence and moved in when Becca threatened to pull the plug on the operation.
In the end Jarrett went to jail, the team disbanded and then Todd quietly removed anyone who could question his choices, leaving Becca the suspect as the likely killer. After months in hiding, not knowing when the next gunman would show up, they were all on edge. Jarrett had stepped up and offered a deal to make the danger go away. Elijah still wasn’t clear what intel had changed hands, but Bast managed to negotiate for all of their lives. It was the kind of debt that took a lifetime to extinguish.
Becca dropped her arms to her sides. “Jarrett traded information to the CIA for us.”
That’s not how Elijah remembered the scene unfolding. “For you. I was a collateral beneficiary.”
“Jarrett talks tough but he wouldn’t have saved you if he didn’t want to.”
Since Eli had a bullet wound in his shoulder courtesy of Jarrett, Eli didn’t exactly agree. “He saved me because he knew not saving me would upset Wade. At least back then.”
“At first, but I think you’ve grown on him.”
Eli didn’t see a reason to argue with that obvious lie. “Right.”
“You’ve grown on me, too.”
Now that was bullshit. “When you realized I was still alive you tried to kill me.”
“At the time you deserved it.”
She wasn’t totally wrong about that since he had just aimed a gun at Jarrett. But the friction between them stretched back for years. “And we hated each other when we worked together.”
“I didn’t hate you.”
“Then it was just me hating you,” he said, only half meaning it.
He’d resented her being put on his team. She’d been new yet the administration wanted her involved in everything. She was the one who went in undercover at the club despite Eli’s protests about her not being ready.
The old Becca would have punched him in the balls. This one laughed. Maybe this was the new, improved and in-love version.
“Do you still?” Becca asked.
“No. That stopped when I realized everything you did to save the operation and how Todd and others at the CIA tried to make you the ultimate target.” Elijah wasn’t feeding her a line. He meant it. “You’re actually pretty damn tough.”
“I could take you.”
Dress or not, if he blinked the wrong way, he’d bet she’d try. “Want to go a few rounds?”
“Is that what you need right now?” Her voice changed. It turned soft and concerned.
Pity hovered right there and Eli wanted to shoot it down fast. “I’m fine.”
She took another step, basically cornering him by standing in front of him. “Tell him.”
“What?” But Elijah knew. She’d been circling around this topic since she came outside.
She put a hand on Eli’s arm. “Tell Wade you messed up.”
The urge to deny and run coursed through Eli. The flight instinct smacked into him hard. Just turn around and go. Ignore her like he’d done in the past when they fought over a strategy. But his legs wouldn’t move. His heart pounded against his rib cage and he inhaled long and deep to get his body back under control.
“I did that already.” He didn’t whisper but his voice dropped low.
“Did you also tell Wade you love him?”
The word battered Eli and he fought it off. “Come on.”
“You do.” She frowned at him. “Stop shaking your head at me.”
“This is not—”
“Elijah, you’ve got to take a risk if you want him back.”
He’d apologized. Come close to begging. What the hell else could he do? “Is that what you did with Jarrett?”
“Yes, but we’re not talking about me. We’re trying to get you back into Wade’s bed.”
The words called up an image, and on cue the hollowness swept back through Elijah. “Not going to happen.”
“Maybe it will once you admit to yourself you love him.” She sure had an agenda and kept hammering it.
“Did you take night school classes in psychology or something?” If so, he would stay miles away from her from now on.
“I should because all the men around here are tragic in the way they handle their love lives.”
“Thanks.”
“Let me be clear.” She pointed at the impressive front doors to the club and stopped talking for a small wave to the doorman standing guard. “You are welcome here any time. I’ll talk to Jarrett about setting up some sort of ongoing visitor arrangement.”
An interesting gesture but seeing Wade move on would rip him apart eventually. He worked on the phrasing to make Becca understand but still save the small piece of his ego that hadn’t been shredded. “Being here is not a great thing for me.”
“How else are you going to win Wade back?”
“Maybe I don’t want to.” Now there was a big fat fucking lie.
“Like I said, you guys are tragic.”
Standing out here arguing with her, actually talking about his love life, was the tragic part. It showed how desperate he truly had become. “Throwing myself in his face isn’t going to work.”
“How do you know?”
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve called and texted him?” Elijah tried to stop the words but they kept rolling out of him. “How many times early on I came to the club door and tried to get him to let me in?”
Her wince showed she got it. “Wade sure does win the stubborn prize.”
“He’s moved on. So will I.” It hurt to say the words.
“I know the two of us have had trouble with trust, but I need you to hear me when I say this, Eli.” This time she grabbed his forearm and dug in with her nails. “Wade is not done.”
“Did you see the blond inside tonight?”
“I saw Wade making sure you saw the blond.”
Elijah wanted to believe it. It was how badly he needed to believe it that scared the hell out of him. “Look, I appreciate the pep talk.”
“Eli, for once in your life don’t shut people out.”
“I don’t know what that means.” Sounded like more psychobabble to him.
She gave his arm one final squeeze and let go. “Well, when you do you may be able to win Wade back.”
• • •
Kyra followed her usual late-night after-work routine. Shower, find a T-shirt, throw her body across the bed. Done. Exhausted from a night on her feet and still aching from shoes that worked for a dinner date but not racing around
tables serving, she lay there and stared up at her boring white ceiling. She kept meaning to paint the place but renting made her lazy and who wanted to ask a faceless management company for permission.
Right now she couldn’t pick up a phone if she wanted to. Rolling over far enough on the mattress to slip under the covers proved impossible. She blamed Bast. Seeing him for hours and catching him staring at her as she worked, kept her senses on high alert.
She used up all her energy trying not to stare at him or give their upcoming plans away. So did the no-underwear thing. Their sexy little secret tormented her all night. In a good way. He exercised control and her stomach tumbled. Outside of the bedroom, obeying grated against her, but inside, it struck her as deliciously naughty.
As the minutes ticked by the darkness outside her window drew her in. She closed her eyes, deciding sleep ranked higher on the necessary scale than fumbling for covers. She’d barely sunk into the mattress when the knocking started inside her head. In her daze it seemed to echo through the room and thunder in her brain. She threw an arm over her eyes and the noise stopped.
When the banging started again, followed by the soft whisper of her name, she jackknifed out of bed. Sprinting on tiptoes, she got to the door. Not that it took long when the whole apartment measured something like five hundred square feet.
She stretched to look out the too-high peephole, then her ankles fell and her heels hit the hardwood again. This had to be a dream. One starring a brown-haired, glasses-wearing hottie. She smoothed a hand over her hair. Next came tugging on the edge of her sleep shirt, which brought the deep V-neck dipping down to her stomach.
As soon as she started the fidgeting, she stopped. His fingers had been inside her. His mouth all over her. There was no part of her body she wanted to hide from him.
Throwing the lock and bolt, she opened the door. Playing it cool proved to be beyond her grasp. Not when every nerve jumped to life inside of her. “Bast?”
The corners of his mouth lifted. “Nice shirt.”
Of course he would say that since one boob almost popped out when she stepped back. “What are you doing here?”
Only Page 8