He inched back to his seat, studying her warm eyes and the way her flushed cheeks screamed that she wanted more than their roadside make-out. Both of his hands were needed on the steering wheel, or they’d never make it back onto the road. He took a deep breath. Her breath mirrored his from the passenger seat. Their matching cadence slowed to normal. He didn’t know about Nic, but he was always catching his breath when she was around.
“Sugar shouldn’t have that ammo.” Nicola rearranged her seatbelt.
Nope, she was always thinking about the job around him. That was just marvelous. Someone out there would commend her. He’d rather she stayed hot and bothered and thinking of him, but that’d make the meeting with her handler a-w-k-w-a-r-d.
“She shouldn’t. I know. But she’s on the up and up, so there’s something more to it.” Cash sighed, sitting up and shifting into drive. “Looks like you and Sugar are headed for a sit down. I’ll referee.”
“Let’s bring Rocco too. At this point, I think he’d be upset if he couldn’t watch.”
Garrison’s Creed: Chapter Sixteen
The sun was blinding bright. Nicola shuffled through her purse for her sunglasses. They were in a little Coach case that matched her little Coach purse. Maybe camouflaged was a better word than matched because she couldn’t find the flippin’ thing.
Cash walked through the parking lot with her. She wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He didn’t seem like the wander-around-the-mall type, but he’d insisted on driving, so he was stuck there. His activities for the next hour or so weren’t her problem. Where were her sunglasses?
“Looking for these?”
“Yes!” She reached for them, and he held them high overhead. She jumped but still couldn’t reach them. “Please. Give them to me.”
“Are you still worked up about everything?”
“No.” She jumped again. “Damn it, Cash. Give them to me already.”
“I don’t believe you.” But he lowered the case to a snagging height. Jumping up again, she was almost nose to nose with him. His peppery scent flooded her senses, reviving memories of him in bed. Everything paused, and then her hand felt the fabric case, and life sped back up again.
“Why do you have my stuff?” This wasn’t at all what she was worked up over.
“It just fell out of that black hole draped over your shoulder.”
Why was she so nervous and twitchy? Oh yeah, because unless Cash found somewhere to wander off to, she was going to have to make introductions. There was no telling what would come out of Beth’s mouth, especially after Nicola’d mentioned on the phone that Cash maybe had a girlfriend. And how Nicola had maybe shown off the little lacy number.
Beth waved at her from the patio at P.F. Chang’s. Nicola’s fingers tapped along with the nervous drumbeat in her head. Fifty yards and closing in on Question-Mageddon. Instead of a world-ending battle, Nicola expected an interrogation worthy of drop-dead-embarrassment. Or defensiveness. Hell, probably both.
Waving back to Beth, Nic turned to Cash and gave him a thanks-for-the-ride-see-you-later smile. He cheesed it back and stuck with her.
Twenty-five yards out.
She could ditch him. She had to. Beth had a cocktail in her hand. Cash had to go elsewhere, pronto. There was no telling if this was Beth’s first or third, and after their thirsty throw down at her apartment, it didn’t matter if it was only the first drink. The woman was primed to pry. Maybe she’d just push Cash and run.
“Cash, we’re going to talk about girl stuff.” He kept the slow pace, not moving from her side, and looking totally aware she wanted him gone like last week’s garbage. “Like tampons and Spanx. You want nothing—”
“Girl, if you were into getting spanked, all you had to do was—”
“Spanx. Spay-nhxx. With an X. They’re undergarments. Tummy suckers. Fat smoothers.”
“None of which you have. That’ll be a quick convo. Besides, I met Beth for a second at the Farm. She seemed like fun.”
Fun? Try ready to incite a social disaster. “We have important personal stuff to talk about, and you’re not invited.”
“You’re going to talk bedrooms and the Bullet? Or is that the Rabbit? I can never keep up with you girls and your toys.”
“Cash,” she hissed, abandoning the slow crawl and daring him to keep pace with her Olympic-speed race walk.
His long legs ate asphalt, easily keeping up with a casual amble. Ten yards out, and she hadn’t scared Cash away yet.
Shit.
With an abrupt stop, Nicola turned to him. Maybe boring him away would work. “And recipes for gluten-free quiche. We’re going to swap cooking tips. I recently learned how to poach an egg.”
“I’m hanging out so you can’t poison her opinion of me.” Cash grabbed Nic’s hand and swiped it to his mouth for a quick kiss. Oh, he was making a point, and knew damn well she wanted to dish on the Sugar incident. The guy should go into politics if he ever stepped away from the bam-bam-you’re-dead business. He had a knack for putting on a show.
“Oh, you think you are so cute.”
“That I do, sweet girl. That I do.”
Ground zero. They were here. Beth stood, smiling, definitely on her second Sichuan Mary, Bloody Mary’s pepper and spice cousin. Cash leaned over and kissed Nic’s cheek. Damn him, he did that on purpose. Beth all but squeed.
Eh, maybe Nic did an inner squee too. When a man who caught everyone’s attention passed out kisses, those kisses generally earned tummy flips. When those tummy-flipping kisses were accompanied by a grasp around the waist like he was doing now, they were bound to create moments of flash-bang paralysis.
A light breeze caught Cash’s blond hair, ruffling it with an airy kiss and teasing her with the lavender smell of her shampoo. Hmm. Showering with Cash. It almost made her forget where they were and what they were doing.
The sound of a metal chair scraping on the patio brought her back to reality. Beth was all lip gloss and giggles. Great. That had to be her second drink.
“Beth, this is—”
“We’ve met.” Cash leaned in to give Beth a hug.
Beth definitely squeed this time. Fabulous.
“I’m going to need a cocktail.” Nicola looked for the nearest waitress and the specialty drink menu. “Something with a little kick—”
“I already ordered you a Twisted Whiskey Sour.” Beth looked at her, then at Cash, and back to the drink menu she clutched. Concentrating, she studied it then glanced back at the towering man. “I’ll order you a Warrior Smash. Sounds like it’d work for you.”
“Cash was just leav—”
Beth protested, her mouth forming a big O, and Cash said, “Nope. I’d love to join you.”
Nicola growled at him. Yes, she needed to hash out the Smooth ammo, but she really wanted Beth alone to hash out the Cash issue. Her and Cash. Sugar and Cash. Working and Cash. Everything. She needed Beth, by herself, and she didn’t want to share.
Cash kicked back in a chair. He was all long legs and broad chest. The sun shone down on him, and he positively glowed. Such a gorgeous son of a bitch.
“Fine.” Nicola huffed and sat down, still mentally willing Cash to get up and go inside the mall. He didn’t move. Her Jedi-mind powers were a big, fat fail. “Let’s talk Smooth ammo.”
Her handler and best friend leaned forward, eyebrows bumping up a notch. “Let’s talk about you two, since I have you both here.”
“Very professional, Beth.”
“Whatever. I’m pulling the best friend card right now.” She feigned innocence. “Besides, technically, you two work together. I have paperwork and questions. Very important questions. Promise.” She crossed her heart. The waiter arrived. Beth ordered for Cash. This was looking less and less like a working lunch and more like they were going to slurp lunch from tiki-umbrella-garnished glasses.
Batting those blond lashes, Cash played along with Beth. Damn them both.
“Question one. Go.” His voice sounded husky and
low. It made her want that Whiskey whatever-it-was-called. Right. Now.
“Question one: How’s our girl look after ten years?”
A hot blush shot up Nicola’s cheeks so fast that she thought steam would shoot out of her ears. “Beth!”
Cash laughed, leaned forward, and pinched a very serious face. “Better than she did the last time I saw her. And the last time I saw her, she was very cute and very naked.”
Nicola tried to gasp, but couldn’t. Stomach, meet throat. Throat, meet stomach. No need to breathe right now. Her insides were switching places.
Their drinks arrived, and if Nic could’ve talked, she’d have asked the waiter to bring her refill already. Or a pitcher.
Beth looked thrilled, positively couldn’t-smile-bigger thrilled. How was that little gem about Nicola being cute and naked going to spell out in her CIA paperwork? It wasn’t because this was a free-for-all fishing expedition. Nic should’ve promised to give every hot and bothered detail, and then maybe this wouldn’t be happening. Plus, Rocco was missing this, and he’d just about die to see this installment.
Nicola took a big sip and a big breath. “Can we pul-leaze talk about the Smooth ammo?”
“Nah,” Cash drawled. “This is way more fun. My turn. I know I’m a far distant second to the job, but when she called you, what came first? Me or the ammo?”
“You.” Beth told the truth. She’d pay in some fashion.
“I knew it.” He winked at Nicola, and she made a valiant effort to suck down her entire drink.
“Look, you two.” Nicola needed to change the subject. “I’ll play Truth or Dare, I’ll get out the freakin’ Ouija Board, but I want to get Smooth out of the way.”
“All work and no play—” Cash started.
And Beth finished, “Makes Nicola Garrison a very boring girl.”
Cash smiled. Big.
Oh no.
Cash smiled from her to Beth and back again. She knew what was coming. “Did I mention I was Cash Garrison?”
Sichuan Mary shot out of Beth’s nose in a laugh and a cough and a choke. Her hands wrapped around her face, and the drink dribbled down her chin. She jumped—one would think to mop up the spillage—but nope. As soon as Beth looked able to ignore the peppery-vodka sting in her nose, she pointed at Nic, mouth hanging open. “Oh. My. God.” Then she pointed at Cash, then her again. “Garrison? Garrison. Garrison?”
Patrons at the tables around them watched, amused, and having no idea what the deal was. Rocco would’ve got it. Man, he was missing another great episode of My Fucked-up Life.
Cash handed Beth a pile of napkins. How gentlemanly of him. Nic would’ve rather he choked on his Warrior Whatever because now Beth would have way more questions than when they’d started. She’d put all the blame for that in Cash’s lap. It was easier to get mad and blame him than feel embarrassed about it.
Right…?
“Scandalous.” Beth slapped her Sichuan-Mary-covered napkins down, and a tipsy giggle bubbled up. “Tell me more. There’s got to be way more.”
“I’ll go tit-for-tat again.” Cash loved this. She’d get him later too.
Beth wiped her hands on a clean napkin and tried, failing, for a serious stare. “Now, this may be the Absolut talking, but I think you two are cute together. Cute. Very—”
“Got it, Beth.” Damn that vodka. P.F. Chang’s needed rolls or breadsticks. Nic needed to shove a pile of carbs down Beth’s throat to soak up some of the booze and maybe stifle her BFF’s brilliant analysis.
“Cute,” Beth continued, nodding her head up and down, on repeat. Where was a breadbasket when Nicola needed it?
“Did you know Nic has a very cute snore?” Cash asked.
Beth perched on the edge of her seat, clearly ready to get the juicy details. “Ten years ago or ten hours ago?”
Cash half-cocked a grin that flashed a dimple. “How much should we tell our good friend, Beth, Nicola?”
This was too much fun for both of them, and she wasn’t touching that conversation topic to save her ever-loving breath. “So about the ammo—”
Beth ignored her. “Are all you guys at Titan super-flippin’ hot? Cash. Roman. Jared.” She ticked names off on her fingers. “We’ve got nothing right now. No one interesting. Well, David’s interesting, but that’s another story.”
Man alive, the Sichuan Mary was courage in a glass. Nicola should have stolen Cash’s keys when he wasn’t looking and come alone.
Cash raised an eyebrow, laughing. “No comment.”
Beth and Nicola reached the bottom of their drinks with a slurp. As if the waiter had been watching, he arrived with fresh drinks the second they came up for air.
“You’d better not hold out on me.” Beth made a big show of switching her straw from one glass to the next, even though the new one already had a straw. “You’re running around with all those Hottie McHottersons, and I want some of that.”
Cash shrugged. “That could be arranged, I’m sure.”
“Yes.” Beth beamed, a third-drink-on-an-empty-stomach smile plastered on her face. “Thank you. Cash, I think I love you. You’re the man.”
Beth was throwing L-bombs and boosting his ego. Nic needed to catch the buzz train fast, or she was going to have to run to the bathroom and cry or scream or send a return-your-BFF-card-here text message.
The waiter was suddenly there again. Maybe her second whiskey had packed more of a wallop than she’d realized. “Would you like to order?” He stood there as if expecting… something. “Food?” he prompted.
Beth studied the drink menu for a second. “Noodles.” She leaned over to Cash, her new best friend, and yell-whispered, “Do you want noodles?”
He gave her a wink. “I want whatever Nic wants.”
Beth sighed loudly enough to turn the table behind her. Nic waved her glass to them, then looked at the waiter. “Can we have a sampler or something with lots of carbs?”
He nodded, clearly trying to figure out if they were good for their bill.
Cash spoke up. “Make that two samplers. And lots of noodles.”
The big guy needed his food. Nicola finished off the rest of her drink and admired the way his shirt clung to his pecs.
Cash leaned over. “See something you want?” A flush flashed from her cheeks to her chest. “On the menu?”
Nicola pushed her shoulders back and smoothed a napkin over her lap until it started shredding. “I’d like to talk about David the Butler now. That is, if you two can handle it.”
Beth’s buzzy nod said so much about what she could and couldn’t handle now or remember later.
“We already have our plan for the butler,” Cash said to Beth. The grand plan must have been discussed when she wasn’t listening to Jared yammer on because she had no idea. Cash continued, “And we’re going to talk to Sugar—”
“That’s her name? Sugar?”
Thank you, Beth. It was about time she pulled her BFF weight.
Cash laughed. “Her, huh?”
“Of course she told me about her.” Beth was going to get a headache from all of her nodding. Well, and from all the vodka too.
“Nic’s reading into something.”
“I am not.”
He shrugged one shoulder.
“So what’s your get-the-butler plan?” Beth asked. Good thing Cash was there to explain it to both of them. And here he thought she was being über professional. In reality, she’d been lost in the Cash-clouds.
He cracked his knuckles and got serious with a swig of his Warrior Smash. “Simple. Nic and the butler have to partner, per the CIA’s request to work it out, so as they do that. Nic slips in a few tracers and bugs. They do some bogus assignment together. Titan harvests the intel to bring the fucker down. Nic plays it all nice and sweet.” Cash stared at her a hard second. “That is, if she can manage to keep her left hook in check. She’s got a quick temper.”
Oh, for God’s sake. She didn’t have a temper. Maybe a short fuse, but that was a byproduct o
f her ex-boyfriend run-in. Now that Cash clued her in to the plan, it sounded reasonable and simple enough. This plan, for that matter, sounded too safe. It sounded like Cash and Jared were keeping her at arm’s length while they did the fun work, or was her Whiskey Whatchamacallit making her paranoid?
She took a sip and added, “But if I see an opportunity to take him down and have cause, I’ll do it.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of fact.
“Not according to the plan,” Cash countered with a hint of a growl.
“Plans are meant to be adapted.”
“Not this one.” He sounded smug and sure and steadfast.
She was going to wring his neck. “This is about me being in the field again, isn’t it?”
“What?” He shrugged, looking guiltier than sin. “No.”
Yes. “I cannot believe you and Jared. You two can’t handle it.”
“Actually, not Jared. He thinks you’re fine to do whatever you please. Roman and I have reservations. We don’t want you running around when we can take care of it.”
“Not your call, Cash.”
“It’s better that—”
“Stop. Just stop.” She tried for a deep breath, but fury and frustration built in her lungs. “You said we were okay. That we’d work together, that you understand I’m good. Shit, I’m better than good.”
Beth nodded. This nod was a serious one, trying to reinforce the truth. “She is.”
Cash swallowed the rest of his drink. “We are working together. Just let me do the heavy lifting.”
“I might if you talk to me about it first! That’s how partnerships work. You can’t—”
He pushed out of his chair and stood to his impressive height, then leaned over her chair, imprisoning her in his protective arms. “Why not? It’s safer—”
She jutted her chin up to meet his sapphire stare. “To quote the great Cash Garrison, bullshit. You can take a bullet between the eyes as easily as me, so don’t tell me it’s safer for you.”
She pushed a hand against the expansive plane of his chest and stood, matching him. Cash versus Nicola. Losing ground on this would be detrimental to her professionally.
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