Don't Break This Kiss (Top Shelf Romance Book 5)

by Jessica Hawkins

  I clutch at the towel around me, wet hair hanging down my back. There’s no blow dryer, so I’ll just braid it and hope for the best. “He had a heart attack?”

  “That’s how I would have done it. Easy enough to fake or induce.” Thom’s already showered and is dressed in black slacks, a turtleneck, and boots. Sensible for the weather yet still displaying much of his quiet hotness. Or maybe I’m still heated from the sexing. At least if we die, we’ve had the makeup sex. Though, this is no real comfort. My anxiety roars back to life easy as that. But I do my best not to show it; Thom has enough to handle without me adding to his woes.

  “You’re sure he was one of them?” asks Bear, arms crossed.

  Thom nods. “Yeah. He’s one of the three bosses. I’ve known about him a few years now.”

  “So it’s not just operatives someone’s trying to kill,” I say. “They’re taking out the head honchos as well.”

  Thom turns, taking in my disheveled appearance. His gaze warms for a moment at the sight of me, steamy and wet, wearing nothing but a towel. Then he does a quick turnaround, realizing he and I are not alone to enjoy this state of affairs.

  Pretty sure Bear has seen women in various stages of undress before, but cleared of suspicion or not, Thom still stands between me and our guest, the same way he did with Crow. It’s like having my own personal protection detail.

  He tips his chin toward the table. “Come get some fresh clothes, babe.”

  Several shopping bags sit on the floor, along with a laptop and some other techy-type stuff on the table. Listening devices, maybe. I don’t know.

  “Might as well put on something comfortable, since you’re staying in,” he says. “Are you hungry? I ordered pizza. It should be here soon. But I can get you something else if you want.”

  “Pizza sounds good.”

  “Wolf, who takes over with this boss-guy dead?” asks Bear.

  “His son inherits his share of things,” answers Thom. “Typical rich kid living his best life in Ibiza, from what I know. I don’t have a lot of int on him, actually. I didn’t dare get too close, in case someone in-house followed my trail to him.”

  “Okay. Sounds bad. What do you know about the other two?”

  “Only Helene Sinclair matters to us right now. She’s the most accessible of the remaining bosses, from what I’ve been able to find out.”

  Bear frowns. “I know that name. U.N., right?”

  “Among other things. Connected like you wouldn’t believe, fingers in plenty of pies,” says Thom, lips a flat line. His expression grim. “Enough money to help fund an operation like ours with the resources to stop any possible shit from flying in her direction if we got exposed.”

  “What exactly are you going to do?” I ask.

  “The less you know, the better,” responds my idiot fiancé. “In fact, cover your ears, please.”

  As if. I just shake my head.

  “What about recce on the hotel?” asks Bear.

  “We’ll sweep the surrounding area and case the place before attempting entry. I don’t want to risk delaying too long.”

  “She going to be up for a chat?”

  “Good question. We have no idea who axed communication when things went south. If it was her…”

  “We’re fucked.”

  I watch the two with interest. “Int? Recce? What is this language you’re speaking?”

  “Intelligence. Reconnaissance.” Thom looks me over. “Weren’t you getting dressed? I thought you were getting dressed.”

  “Well, I can’t cover my ears and get dressed at the same time.”

  “Yeah,” he says. “But you’re not doing either.”

  “How rude of me. I didn’t properly say hello,” says Bear, leaning to the side to see me around Thom. Considering Bear saw me earlier on the plane, this politeness feels unnecessary, to say the least. Yet the man seems determined. “How you doing, Betty?”

  “Fine, thanks.”

  “Great to see you again.”

  Thom’s gaze hardens.

  Whatever game they’re playing, they can play it without me. I go over to examine the bags. The first two bags are full of men’s clothing. Second bag is women’s wear and intimate apparel. Much better. “Everything we got is black?”

  “Yep,” says Bear. “It’s just practical. Only color that really hides blood.”

  “What about red?” I ask, curious.

  “Blood dries a darker reddish brown and becomes visible.” Bear shakes his head. “You don’t want your enemies knowing if or where you’re wounded. Also makes it harder to mix in with the general public if you’re trying to make a swift getaway. Basic escape and evasion, you got to blend in.”

  “Clever.” Makes sense, now that I think of it—he does own a lot of dark colors.

  “Not that you’re going anywhere and risking the chance of getting hurt,” adds Thom. “Don’t freak her out, man.”

  “I asked, and I’m not freaked out,” I say. “Well, no more than the normal current level of oh my God, we’re all probably going to die horrible, violent deaths. But you know, I’m almost getting used to that. It’s harder to sustain a state of constant terror than you’d think.”

  Thom stands with his arms crossed, face a careful blank, watching his friend. Or the dude I think is maybe his friend. You wouldn’t know it, however, from the current look in his eyes.

  Meanwhile, Bear is grinning for all he’s worth. “See? She’s not freaked out.”

  Nothing from Thom.

  “I’m excited to try real New York pizza,” I say as my stomach rumbles and I ignore their dumbass staring competition. “What did you get? Because I kind of wouldn’t mind a pepperoni, but on the other hand, I could devour a ham and pineapple right now. Or something different like meatballs could be nice.”

  Still nothing from Thom.

  Bear’s grin, however, only widens. At this point, it’s taking up his whole damn face. He’s like a toothpaste commercial for people with excessive facial hair.

  “Basically, anything you give me I will eat at this point in time, I’m so hungry,” I say. “But you’re not actually listening to me, so I’m going to stop talking now.”

  “Huh?” says Thom, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Shit. Sorry, babe. What’d you say?”

  “My apologies, Betty.” Bear laughs. “He was too busy silently communicating to me that if I kept looking at you in your current state of déshabillé, he’ll murder me slowly. Make it hurt. Cut me into pieces and hide my bits in the woods. That sort of thing.”

  “He managed to communicate all of that with just a look?” I ask.

  “It was more like a really intense glare. He put a lot of effort into it.”

  “Ah,” I say with much wisdom. “Stop winding him up, please. We have enough to worry about without shenanigans.”

  Bear sighs. “Sorry. But Crow was right, Wolf. You are one possessive, overprotective son of a bitch when it comes to her.”

  Pretty sure Thom is grinding his teeth. Something has to be making the noise.

  “This is why I don’t do relationships,” says Bear, keeping his gaze fixed on the TV. Both gallant and wise of him. “Messes with your head. You need to be sharp to stay on top in this game. Ready to go on a moment’s notice, not worried about leaving someone behind.”

  Thom just gives him a look.

  “Not exactly fair for them, either. Being away for long periods of time, often out of contact, no idea if you’re dead or alive. And even when you’re home, it’s not like you can talk about what you do. My dad was a SEAL, and let me tell you, it was hell on my mother.” Bear heads for the couch, making himself comfortable. He’s ditched the pilot’s uniform in favor of jeans, a dark hoodie, and sneakers. It fits more with his bearded hipster aesthetic. “Same goes for friends and family. If they’re not ex-services, they don’t really get it.”

  “Sounds lonely,” I say.

  “Nuh.” Bear smiles affably. “Easy enough to go to a bar, chat
with someone about whatever game is on the TV, maybe find a friend for a little adult playtime.”

  “You realize none of those things actually equals a real relationship.”

  “Exactly. Now you’re getting it.”

  Thom snorts at Bear’s words. “You’re wrong. We need to stay in touch with all the things we’re fighting to protect. Love. Family. Life. The moment we lose those, we’re just mercenaries.”

  “Well-paid mercenaries,” says Bear, correcting him with a smile.

  I shake my head. “Right. Well, I think you’re all adrenaline junkies with intimacy issues. But you do you.”

  Thom turns and gives me a look this time. His heated gaze takes in my face before sliding down my neck to linger on the sliver of cleavage visible just above the towel. It’s a look that says we’ve been plenty intimate, and quite recently too. Smart-ass.

  Heat gathers in my cheeks and I duck my head, concentrating on gathering up some clothes. A pair of black skinny jeans, a long-sleeved black thermal, and socks, and so on. “Sure, traveling the world and doing all of these exciting things may have its moments. But you’re actively putting yourselves in danger all the time.”

  “We’re not so different from cops or firefighters,” says Bear. “Someone’s got to stop the bad guys, rescue kittens out of trees, and save the day.”

  The man has a point. I just wish the person doing dangerous stuff didn’t have to be someone I might possibly have intense feelings for. A selfish sentiment, but there you have it. If we do stay together, I’m just going to have to pull up my big girl panties and deal with Thom being away often, saving the world. I’m half proud and half terrified. It’s a precarious balance. But possibly he should have gone for someone less neurotic and with a shitty imagination. Because imagining Thom getting hurt makes me hurt.

  Oh God, I cannot be falling for him again, not after all this time. So we had good sex once. Us, our history and everything, is beyond complicated and will require more than a few orgasms to set things right. Though they were seriously great orgasms.

  “You okay?” Thom rubs my shoulder. I kind of want to lean into him, increase the contact. But I don’t. It’s too soon. Of course, if we die it’ll be too late. Like I said, complicated.

  “Um, yeah. Fine.”

  “Remind me to teach you how to lie convincingly sometime,” he says. “Now go get dressed before you get cold. And don’t worry about my work; I’m good at what I do.”

  “He’s one of the best,” confirms Bear, his gaze still set on the TV. “After me, of course.”

  “Of course.” I paste on a smile before heading to the bathroom. My life really only has room for one meltdown at a time. First, get this target off our backs. Then figure out the next fifty or so years.

  Excellent. I have a plan.

  Once I’m dressed, I come out to find Thom squatting in the hallway sliding money underneath the front door. Weird and mysterious. Then, on a small security camera screen embedded in the wall at around eye level, he watches the pizza delivery guy pick up the money and leave a box on the floor in the hallway before walking away. Thom waits for a while longer, monitoring the empty space. Finally, he turns the dead bolt, opens the door, and collects the food.

  Nothing in our life is simple anymore. Not even pizza.

  “You never open the door for anyone but me, okay?” he says. “Slide the money underneath and make sure they’re gone before you undo the locks.”

  “Got it.”

  The pizza is deposited on the kitchen counter and yes, pepperoni it is. Awesome.

  Something beeps and Thom pulls out his cell, reading the screen. “Shit.”

  “What?” Bear sits upright.

  “They got Badger. Looks like his house exploded. They’re calling it a gas leak. Body found on site.” His fingers tap against the screen. “Hawk is down too. Caught in the crossfire of a robbery at a liquor store, apparently.”

  “Like hell she was.”

  “Got a copy of the crime scene pics from a reliable source. It’s the same detective who’s slowing down the case looking into your disappearance.” Thom gives me a look. “Having the ambulance you were riding in disappear did not make our lives easy.”

  I shake my head in frustration. “They must be so worried and frustrated. Let me call Jen and Mom and tell them I’m okay. Explain to them that I just needed some me time or something.”

  “A couple more days, babe,” says Thom. “Just let me talk to Sinclair and get a better feel for the situation.”

  I am not convinced.

  “Their phones and computers are being monitored; I can guarantee it. We cannot afford to be traced again. You know what happened last time. If anything, you’d just be putting them in danger by making contact with them.”

  The man has a point. Doesn’t mean I like it. “All right. But only a couple more days.”

  “Thank you.” His gaze returns to the cell in his hands. “Jesus. Half of Hawk’s face is missing, but it’s definitely her.”

  Bear swears up a storm.

  “That leaves you, Bear, Crow, and Fox,” I say. “Crow is the only one who hasn’t been cleared.”

  Thom stares out the window into the dark. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. We don’t know anything for sure yet. That might not even have been Badger’s body in that house. Until we have DNA or dental confirmation on the corpse, we wait and see.”

  “True,” grumbles Bear. “Has Crow reported in?”

  “No, he hasn’t.” Thom tips his head back and stares at the ceiling. “He could be our leak. It makes a certain sense. He was the one who organized supplies for Betty. Could have easily placed some tracers among all that stuff.”

  I frown. “Really? But he seemed so nice. He said he was your friend.”

  “Like I said, there are no friends in this business, babe.”

  “If it is him, I’m going to kill the fucker,” growls Bear.

  “We need to locate him first,” says Thom, heading into the kitchen. He opens several cupboards and starts pulling out glasses and mugs, bowls and plates. They’re all set aside on the counter, out of the way. “Find evidence we can take to command. Something definite. In the meantime, our hacker says the target is apparently holed up in the penthouse suite at The Thornbrook. She’s got meetings with a variety of business and political types for the next two days along with attending a charity event at the Met tomorrow night.”

  “What are you doing?” I ask, curious about him carrying on with the crockery.

  “We need supplies.”

  Once the cupboards are empty, he fiddles with something inside one of them. A false back rises to reveal a selection of shiny knives embedded in a black foamlike surface. The next cupboard has several handguns with extra magazines. The third contains yet more lethal toys.

  “Help yourself,” he tells Bear, slipping a magazine into a pistol. The two of them get busy secreting various weapons on themselves. Getting ready to go to war. “Rifles and bigger stuff are in a hidden safe in the walk-in closet, but I’m thinking we stick with more compact gear for this.”

  “Agreed,” says Bear.

  I square my shoulders. “So what’s next?”

  “We’re going to go check out the setup of the place, see if there’s been any increases or changes in security since the last time I visited. Then we’ll figure out our approach.” Thom rattles off the details, ignoring the slight look of surprise on Bear’s face. Guess for an operative, my fiancé is being super open with the facts. “There’s a couple of events happening at the hotel tonight, so it shouldn’t be too hard to blend in with the crowd.”

  “Okay.”

  “For you, however,” says Thom, “there is staying here, putting your feet up, relaxing, and eating.”

  “There’s nothing I can do to help?”

  “The best thing you can do is stay here and stay safe so I don’t have to worry about you,” he says, his expression serious. “Can you do that for me, babe?”

  �
�Sure,” I say. And I mean it at the time. I really do.

  Chapter 7

  The hours pass slowly after Bear and Thom leave. I didn’t feel particularly safe sitting on the sofa all alone in the loft apartment. Security might be tight here, but the few bites of pizza I managed to eat still churn in my stomach. Every muffled noise from other apartments, the hallway, the street beyond, makes me jump. It’s nothing; everything is fine.

  So fine that I get my gun out and make sure the ammunition magazine is full, even though I checked it just under an hour ago. I’m pretty sure I haven’t shot at anyone in the meantime. It seems like the sort of thing I would remember.

  Thom gave me a quick lesson on cleaning the gun earlier today, and my fingers itch to go through the process again. Just to be doing something. But the piece is brand-new and gleaming. If I try cleaning it, I’d probably just make it grimy. Dammit.

  For a while, I debate where to put the weapon. Cradling it in my lap isn’t a viable alternative. My nerves are so fried that a knock on the door would have me firing a bullet through the TV. Leaving the gun on the coffee table just seems too out of place. Like I’d need a nice little pile of white powder and a stack of money beside it to pull off the gangster look properly. Perhaps I could put on my shoulder holster.

  In the end, I tuck it into the couch cushions beside me. Ready for action, but out of sight.

  On the TV, Wonder Woman kicks the bad guy’s ass and then some. I try to feel the empowerment, but it’s just not working for me.

  It’s not that I’m terrified of Thom not being here to protect me. Though, come to think of it, I am a little. But it’s the fact he’s out there with an unknown quantity wanting him dead that has me on edge. Bear is with him, sure. And yet…this must be what it’s like for people with family in the service. All of the not knowing and waiting to hear. As if a part of your life is permanently on pause and all of the fear and love forms a tight ball of unease deep inside you, which never quite goes away. I guess you learn to ignore the thing. Cover it up with everyday life and wait for them to come home one way or another. Talk about bravery and sacrifice.