by Radclyffe
Joe Aiello and Larry Murtaugh slouched in a booth in the K9 crew car, nursing coffees and looking half-asleep. They both perked up when they saw her.
“Morning,” she said. “Mind some company?”
Joe jumped up. “Hey. Morning. Get you some coffee?”
She smiled. “I can get it. You fellows mind talking a little bit about the job?”
“Nope. Come on ahead.” Larry waved her to the booth as she approached with her coffee. “Have a seat.”
Fifteen minutes later, the door slid open and Viv glanced up. The question she’d been about to ask died on her lips. Dusty sauntered in, her sandy hair damp and darker than normal, still wet and clinging to her neck in places. The very same lean, tanned neck Viv had tasted just a few short hours before. Instantly, Viv pictured Dusty naked in a tiny shower like the one she’d just been in, only this time the two of them were there together, pressed close, skin slick and flushed and hot. Heat rose to her cheeks, she felt them burning. Dusty strolled toward her, her lazy-lidded gaze taking in Larry and then Joe and then sliding into Viv’s. Her green eyes were hot, dark, and anything but lazy. “Morning.”
“Hi.” Viv tried for casual but the word came out husky and a little choked. Joe narrowed his eyes and frowned. Viv groaned inwardly. Telegraph how you feel to everyone, why don’t you?
The merest hint of a grin flickered across Dusty’s mouth. That mouth. That amazing mouth that created the most incredible kisses. Hot and firm and so surprisingly demanding. How was it possible that no one had claimed those kisses yet? Viv’s nipples tightened and she pressed her lips together. She would not embarrass herself any further. But she couldn’t help looking as Dusty walked by, appreciating the fit of her black cargo pants, the short leash clipped to her belt where Atlas would be in a few minutes, the black lace-up boots, the shirt with the insignia on the shoulder.
God, could she be any hotter? Viv hoped not. She would likely melt in place if she was.
Dusty poured coffee, returned, and leaned against the booth across the aisle. She bit into a jelly doughnut and a few flakes of sugar clung to the corner of her mouth. “Snowing pretty good out there.”
Viv wanted to lick the sugar off. She wanted to taste the raspberry sweetness on her tongue. Oh, she was well and truly gone.
Larry stood. “Command called with an update not long ago. The roads are a mess and traffic is slowing down the escorts. We’ll probably be half an hour late.”
Dusty stared at Joe as Larry squeezed past. He looked as if he planned on sitting there with Viv till it was time to roll. She and Atlas were with Egret’s detail, and Viv was supposed to be with Egret too. Joe was driving one of the SUVs in the president’s motorcade. Joe. She didn’t blame him for wanting Viv’s attention. She wasn’t even jealous of that. Made perfect sense to her. Viv was amazing. And she didn’t think Viv was interested in Joe. Viv had kissed her, after all. A lot. She grinned and polished off her doughnut. Viv was watching her eat. She liked that. Not as much as kissing, but she liked it. She would’ve kept kissing Viv all night if Viv had wanted to stay. She didn’t care if she had to work eighteen hours after no sleep. She’d done it plenty of times.
After Viv had left, she’d been happy to finish her beer lying on her bunk, replaying the moments, savoring the sensations. Viv wanted slow. She did too. Sort of. Except part of her wanted to rush over the edge of the cliff that seemed to loom right in front of her whenever she was near Viv, and feel the rush of air around her body as she fell, exhilarated and free. The thought of what that rush would be like, losing herself in Viv, started a heavy pounding between her thighs, an ache that was new and damn distracting.
Joe said something to Viv and Dusty’s attention snapped back. She wanted to tell Joe to back off, Viv was hers. That was new too. She didn’t even have words for the kind of possessiveness Viv stirred in her. She thought she might be like one of the wolves who fascinated Viv, but not for the reasons Viv liked them. She and Atlas were part of a pack, true enough. But if Viv were hers, she’d be sure no one ever came near her. She felt like growling right now.
“Thanks, Joe. Have a good one.” Viv stood up and grabbed Dusty’s arm. “Let’s get some photos of you gearing Atlas up for work.”
“Sure,” Dusty said with a last look at Joe, who followed them with his eyes. She let Viv lead the way out of the car, still thinking about wolves.
Viv stopped as the door to the crew car slid closed behind them, leaving them alone in the narrow passageway between cars. “You looked like you were about to bite his head off.”
“I was thinking about it,” Dusty said.
“You know there’s nothing going on there, right?”
Dusty glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were alone. She kissed Viv, giving vent to the possessive urge still simmering in her middle. “Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know that.”
Viv moaned softly. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this,” she said, her mouth against Dusty’s ear, “but the look in your eyes back there turned me on.”
Dusty kissed her again, the pulse in her belly getting harder and brighter. “Good.”
“It’s going to be a very, very long day.”
“You don’t mind?” Dusty caressed her neck, slid her fingers into soft silky hair. “That I want you so crazy bad?”
“I don’t think…no, I know…I’ve never seen that look in another woman’s eyes because of me. I definitely don’t mind.”
“I don’t think I could change it. It’s kind of instinct.”
“I like your instincts. I like them a lot. But…” Viv brushed her hand over Dusty’s chest and pushed her back an inch. Somehow they’d ended up pressed chest to chest with Viv’s back against one of the compartments. “I’ve got to be at the morning press meeting in half an hour. And if you want to get to work on time, you’re going to need to take your instincts and back up a little bit.”
Dusty braced both hands on the wall on either side of Viv’s shoulders and kissed her neck. “Whatever you say.”
Viv closed her eyes. Yes, I say yes. Right here. Right now. “How do you feel about another picnic tonight?”
“I’ll bring the wine.”
Chapter Nineteen
Jane’s internal clock woke her at 0530. She’d slept four solid hours, more than she’d gotten when she’d been twelve on her first training mission with her father. They’d been in the woods then for seventy-two hours, and he’d never let her sleep. Telling her she had to stand guard, and every time she’d start to doze, he’d waken her with a shot in the air. She’d learned to anticipate that sharp blast every time her mind would start to shut down until it became second nature for her to control her sleep along with all her other bodily needs. She could go without food, she could go without water, she could go without sleep and function efficiently up until the moment her body quit, and then it wouldn’t matter anymore. She’d be dead.
Across from her, Hooker breathed lightly, regularly. He was awake too. She wasn’t surprised. For all he looked and acted like an Idaho redneck, he hadn’t survived as a mercenary by being lazy or sloppy. He’d probably opened his eyes at the instant she had.
She’d slept in her clothes, including her boots, so she only had to stand and take three steps to be at the bathroom door. Turning, she caught him watching her, his eyes glittering points in the gloom. “I’m going to take a shower. The door will be locked. If you try to open it, I’ll shoot you.”
“I can wait to take mine,” Hooker said agreeably. “Unless you think you’d like company?”
Jane flicked on the room light, illuminating Hooker, as she quickly stepped into the small, dark bathroom and closed the door. She set her gun on the toilet tank and twisted the shower dial all the way to hot without turning on the lights. Her night vision was good, and she didn’t want to impair it. If Hooker decided to come in, she’d have the dark on her side. The dark, she had learned a long time ago, was her friend. She methodically piled her clothes on the floor in or
der: boots, pants next to them, shirt next to that, so she could get dressed quickly if she had to. She showered quickly too, the hot water easing some of the aches from long hours in the vehicle and the tension she carried between her shoulders. When she was dressed again, five minutes later, she returned to the outer room and picked up her coat.
“One of those bagel-with-eggs things and ham would be good,” Hooker said. He was sitting on the side of the bed, the light still on, a day’s worth of beard blunting his heavy jaw.
“What makes you think I’m going for food?”
He grinned. “Because you gotta be as hungry as I am, and you’re not going to let me drive the Jeep to go get us something, because you figure I’ll be looking for the money.”
“You know it won’t do you any good.” He was right, of course.
“Still have to try.” He lifted a shoulder. “Force of habit.”
Hooker reminded her of her father in some ways, although he was nowhere near the man her father had been. But he thought like a soldier. He understood tactics and logistics. That at least was comfortable and familiar, and in some weird way, he understood her because they thought the same. The idea of him knowing even a little of what drove her was unsettling, and she couldn’t afford to be unsettled. So she put Hooker out of her mind for now. She had a busy day ahead and needed a clear mind.
She turned right out of the lot and drove a quarter of a mile over empty, snow-covered roads to the convenience store. She arrived at 0559. Hers was the only car in the lot. Someone had plowed it at least an hour ago, and a fresh inch of snow lay over the surface. The storm hadn’t lost any of its power, and at this rate, they’d have another foot by midmorning. She needed to be downtown and out again by then. At six exactly all the lights came on and a teenage boy, tall and skinny and moving slowly, unlocked the door.
The store smelled of burnt coffee and microwaved food. Her boots left muddy tracks on a still-damp floor. The sandwiches in the hot case were probably a day old, but neither she nor Hooker would care about that. Food was fuel, and as long as it wouldn’t make her sick, she’d eat what was available. She picked up half a dozen egg-and-meat sandwiches and four large cups of coffee. She didn’t have anything to say to the boy behind the counter, and he didn’t speak to her either.
Behind the wheel, she started the motor, cranked up the heat, and opened the plastic lid on one of the coffees. She added a creamer and dug out her phone. Robbie answered before it rang a second time.
“Hey,” he said. “Where are you? You good?”
His voice, so familiar, vibrating with warmth and concern, put a lump in her throat. “Less than a day away. You on schedule?”
“More or less. We haven’t briefed today but I’m guessing by tonight we’ll be behind.”
“Remember what Dad used to say about surprise and diversion being two of our most important weapons?”
“Yeah?” Rob sounded uneasy. “What’s going on?”
“If the train stops suddenly, get away from the front.”
“Jesus.”
“And it’s better if you don’t know. I’ll be expecting you to pull into Trinidad tomorrow morning. If that changes, call me. But be careful.”
“Okay. Are you su—”
“It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.”
She was back at the motel in fifteen minutes. She brought her duffel in along with the coffee and food to change into clean clothes. Hooker must have showered. His stubble was gone, and he’d even put on a clean red-and-black checked flannel shirt.
“Did you call your contact?” She put the food and coffee down on the dull brown metal dresser between the two beds. Hooker picked up a coffee, took off the plastic lid, and shook two packets of sugar into it. He added three of the dozen creamers she’d grabbed and put the lid back on. “Bit early for that. My friends tend to be late sleepers.”
“Wake them up.”
Hooker laughed. “Yes, ma’am. In an hour or two, I’ll do that.”
“Checkout here’s eleven thirty. I’m going to be on the road by then. We need to arrange the meet for this afternoon.”
“I’ll do what I can, but—”
“Five-thousand-dollar bonus. Make it happen.”
Hooker sighed and reached for a sandwich. “Women officers are always a pain in the ass.”
“It’s a volunteer army. You know where the door is.”
Hooker grinned. “No, ma’am. I love my job.”
*
Viv typed in changes to her schedule as the White House deputy press secretary updated the reporters on the day’s events. Par for the course, the morning had been scrambled due to unavoidable changes in the motorcade routes for both POTUS and the first daughter due to weather. The motorcades couldn’t leave the train station until local police finished rerouting traffic and setting up the barricades and perimeter blocks. The station squatted on a river plain on the outskirts of a small rural community with nothing nearby except a few gas stations, a Denny’s, and a Dunkin’ Donuts. Nothing worth braving the storm for. The only good part of the delay was she’d get to spend more time with Dusty before Dusty and Atlas headed out with the advance team. According to the duty roster Phil Virtucci had given her, Dusty and Atlas were assigned to the detail working the underground parking garage where Blair Powell’s motorcade would enter the hospital for Blair’s tour of the children’s ward.
As soon as the briefing was finished, Viv gathered her things and worked her way through the departing throng toward the rear of the train. The only way to get anywhere was to go through the intervening cars, but fortunately, the press section was only a few cars away from the kennel cars. She intercepted Dusty and Atlas as they were climbing back into the car. They both had snow in their hair. Atlas gave a brisk shake and sparkling drops of melting snow flew from his thick, dark coat. Dusty shook her head quickly too, and a halo of flakes hung in the air for a second. They both looked happy.
“Been for a walk?” Viv asked, the sight of them warming her with delight.
“He was getting a little cabin fever in here.”
“How is it out there?”
“Visibility is pretty bad, but the wind’s died down. Could be worse.”
Dusty rested her hand on Atlas’s head, and Viv had an instant of wishing she was the one being petted. Okay, enough of that. The day would be a damn long one if she didn’t get her mind off sex.
Dusty said, “There’s a little coffee kiosk over in the station. It looks like they have pretty decent Danish. You hungry?”
Oh yes, she was, she definitely was. If she couldn’t get Dusty alone in a cabin, at least she could grab a few minutes with her away from curious eyes.
“That sounds great.”
Dusty held out her hand and drew Viv toward the ramp leading down from the car. “Watch it, it’s slippery.”
Viv followed her out and onto the train platform. Local law enforcement and Secret Service agents kept the station clear of pedestrian and vehicular traffic, and all the other trains had been rerouted. The area was deserted except for the agents posted on the platform and along the train. The old-fashioned train station was a long, low green building with high-backed wooden benches in front. A Secret Service agent stood post outside the station, her topcoat collar turned up against the wind and a hat with ear flaps pulled down to practically obscure her face. She didn’t move as they passed.
Inside, more benches filled the tiled waiting area. The ticket area at the end of the large, high-ceilinged room consisted of individual windows lined up side by side behind a red-velvet rope line. Two ticket sellers waited at the windows with nothing to do. Another Secret Service agent stood just inside the main entrance. Sepia photographs on all four walls displayed scenes of old cars, a bus and train station, and a town with board sidewalks. The light fixtures dangling from chains overhead were wrought iron and looked to be a hundred years old. Everything about the place was old, but genuinely old, not reproductions.
Three round
tables with wooden slat-back chairs were tucked into one corner in front of a coffee kiosk. A cold case and a small barista bar offered hot and cold drinks, fruit, yogurt, ubiquitous doughnuts, and some excellent-looking Danish. Viv ordered a cinnamon roll and coffee, and Dusty did the same. They sat at one of the small round tables, almost alone.
“It’s kind of eerie with no one else here,” Viv said into the hushed silence.
“Kind of nice.” Dusty looked completely at home in the rustic setting in her black nylon windbreaker and boots and black pants. She had the windblown look of someone who lived and worked outdoors. Rugged and strong and sturdy.
Viv had never really gone for earthy and dependable before. Most of the women she met and consequently dated were urban sophisticates. Dusty was completely different, but definitely not simple. Nothing was simple about Dusty, except that she was genuine. Viv was finding genuine to be decidedly sexy. She dragged her mind back to work. “Can I follow you on your rounds this morning?”
“If Phil says it’s okay, I don’t see why not.”
“It won’t bother you or Atlas?”
“Nope. There’s always a few spectators around. People like to watch us.”
“I’m not surprised. You’re kind of exciting.”
Dusty laughed. “You’re putting me on, right?”
“No, really. People think your job is glamorous. To travel with the president and his family. You guard the most important man in the world. And of course, there are the super powers.”
Dusty narrowed her eyes. “You know, I can tell when you’re making fun.”
Viv grinned. “Only just a little. I happen to think you’re pretty glamorous, and I know you have super powers.”
“Is that right?”
She nodded solemnly. “I’ve kissed you, remember.”
Dusty’s eyes darkened and her grin turned into a hungry smile. “I remember very well. Every single one.”