by Julie Rowe
Gunner set a fast, hard pace guaranteed to drive them both to the edge of sanity. Joy watched him with dilated eyes, her arms stretched above her head, her hands tangled and fisted in her sleep shirt. She curled her free leg around his hip to kick at his butt.
“Harder,” she said, her voice a low whisper. “Give it to me.”
Hearing those words coming out of her mouth was fucking hot.
He gave her what she asked for, using one thumb to circle and press her clit while he let go of his control and took her hard.
This time when she came, he came with her, the climax rolling over him, detonating a pleasure bomb inside him.
He came down from the high slowly, his body finally, finally relaxing in a way he hadn’t been able to since the incident at the brewery.
Sex was an even better medicine than laughter.
Gunner took in Joy’s sleepy, satisfied expression. Nah, not sex in general. Sex with her.
She smiled at him. “Are you going to untie me?”
“Will you run if I do?” He meant to ask the question with a playful tone, but when she raised an eyebrow, realized he sounded a little too serious. So, he leaned down to kiss her plush mouth. “I’d give chase.”
“Depends,” she said, wiggling her arms and her hips.
He liked this playful Joy. “On?”
“Whether or not you catch and release.”
“I’m too hungry,” he said, kissing her again. “I’d rather dive in for seconds.”
She laughed. “Where did this punny guy come from?”
“Shh,” Gunner said. “Don’t scare him away. He’s a bit of a hermit, but with the fishing so good…”
She nudged him with her tangled up hands, laughing.
It took him a minute to pull her shirt loose; she’d managed to twist it up a lot more thoroughly than he had. He left the bed to dispose of the condom, and when he came back, she’d put her pajamas back on.
“I’d better go,” she said, her hair mussed and the skin of her face and neck showing the faint blush of whisker burns.
“Stay.” The word was out of his mouth before he could think of all the reasons why it was a bad idea.
She stared at him. “And if someone from the CDC knocks on my door and I don’t answer?”
“I’ll tell them you went in search of more coffee. Then, you can sneak back to your room.”
She covered her face with both hands. “No one is going to believe that.”
“We both had a rough day, so not getting to sleep easily would be expected. I’ll make up a bed on that tiny sofa over there, and we’ll say I slept there.”
She pulled her hands away and glanced at the sofa. Yeah, it was barely big enough for two people to sit. Joy didn’t say anything, but she did get back into his bed.
He got in and spooned up to her back, draping one arm around her waist and thrusting one thigh between her legs. He wanted to feel as much of her as he could, needed that contact to keep the darkness at bay.
The scent of her hair and the feel of her body as she took in steady breaths lulled him into the comforting darkness of sleep.
…
Joy let herself doze for a while, waiting until Gunner was deeply asleep before she carefully freed herself from the full body hold he had on her.
He looked so nice and normal while asleep. No trace of the usual sardonic expression on his face or hint of the mental battle he’d fought only hours ago.
He’d witnessed the death of his wife three years ago, and the sound of it had etched a permanent hole in his soul.
A sound Joy had made when she shot that idiot today. How could he want her after that? The man deserved someone soft, caring, and gentle. She was hard, thanks to the crucible that was the Army. Only with an innocent could she could be gentle. She just didn’t run into too many people who weren’t guilty of one sin or other.
After a search for the envelope containing her set of keys, she found it on the floor next to the bed and went back to her own room.
She lay down but didn’t feel the least bit sleepy now. Her bed was too large, too cold, and too damned empty.
Maybe she should have risked being discovered if it meant a good night’s sleep.
Her alarm, blaring out an order to wake up, had her sitting up in surprise.
She’d slept. For a solid four hours, if her phone was telling the truth about the time. A swipe of her finger silenced the noise. Today was going to be a busy day.
The door to her room opened. No knock. No hello.
Joy stood and, in one motion, grabbed the pen and pad of paper the hotel provided off the side table and threw them at the intruder.
Gunner whacked the pen out of the air just before the paper hit his chest. He frowned at her. “Good morning to you too, Sunshine.”
She glared at him. “You didn’t knock or say anything.”
He smiled at her with his teeth. “So, I should be glad you didn’t shoot me or something?”
“Yes, you should.”
He glanced around the room. “Where is your gun?”
She nodded at the closet. “In the room safe.”
He came all the way inside and let the door close. He was dressed for work.
Joy took in his unhappy expression and crossed arms. “What?”
“You left.” He sounded confused and cranky.
Damn it, she should have set her alarm earlier. She headed for the bathroom. “I did.”
He got in her way. “Why?”
His question stopped her mid-stride. Why? All the reasons ticked through her head, one after the other. One, if someone hurt Gunner, she wouldn’t shoot the bastard in the leg, she’d kill them. Given her reaction yesterday to shooting someone, doing so might kill her in all the ways that counted. Two, if any of these law enforcement types had found them together, they’d look down their noses at her for being easy. Three, he’d witnessed the death of his wife up close. She’d been working with him in a dangerous situation as his partner just like Joy was now. He might seem okay with it for the moment, but when the crisis was over, she didn’t think he would stay okay. And it wasn’t exactly something she could bring up without hurting him even more.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “I like my job and want to keep it?”
“Our jobs are in no danger. Fraternization isn’t against any rules in the task force.”
Fraternization? He made it sound like their being together was nothing more than simple convenience.
“It might not be against the rules, but did you see Dozer’s face when he teased us about the possibility? Credibility and respect, that’s what we’ll lose.”
“What do you think Dozer is going to do, watch the security tapes for the hallways?” Gunner asked. “He doesn’t have time for that.”
Really? She hadn’t had nearly enough sleep to find her way through arguments standing on shaky rational ground.
“How do you know? That could be something he always does when lots of people are working on a case, or whatever this is.” She pulled a clean set of work clothes out of her go-bag and went into the bathroom. It was very satisfying to shut the door in Gunner’s face.
“Joy,” he said loud enough for her to hear him through the door. “We’re not done talking about this.”
She yanked the door open and said, “Yes, we are, because it’s not going to happen again.” This time, when she closed the bathroom door, she locked it.
“What the fuck does that mean?” he asked as if he had every right to be irritated with her.
She jerked the door open again and got right in his face. “It means exactly how it sounds. I’m not going to sleep with you again.”
“You didn’t sleep with me last night.” He lowered his head so they were nose to nose. “You left.”
“I was trying to save both our reputations,” she hissed at him.
“Then maybe I need to quit, because having you in my arms, sleeping without the constant nightmares, is worth more than
any job.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You…you can’t mean that.”
His response sounded like a growl. “I mean every word.”
How was she supposed to deal with this? He sounded crazy. “I…”
Someone knocked on the door.
Gunner looked through the peephole. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered then opened the door wide.
Agent Dozer looked at Gunner’s face, then hers, and asked, “Not a good time?”
“Is there ever a good time for you Homeland agents to show up…anywhere?” Gunner asked at his grumpiest. He pushed past Dozer.
“Didn’t sleep well?” Dozer asked.
Joy turned a narrow-eyed gaze on him. “I slept fine. He”—she angled her thumb at Gunner’s room—“is the one who didn’t.”
“Maybe he’s picky about the mattress.”
She glared at the agent. “Have you read his file?”
Dozer lost the slight smile and nodded.
“Then you know he’s not picky about the mattress.” She closed the door in his face. Took a step toward the bathroom, stopped, turned, and opened the door again.
Dozer hadn’t moved yet. Good.
“Stop trying to be my best friend or his best friend or whatever you think you’re doing. We’ve both been through some serious shit. We know each other. We don’t know you. Not well enough. Stop tap dancing all over our buttons.”
As she spoke, Dozer’s eyebrows rose until they were fully deployed.
He didn’t say anything for a moment then said, “That’s fair.” He tilted his head to one side. “In the interests of staying away from buttons…are you two…good? I could hear your argument in the hallway.”
Gunner’s door opened, and he stepped out to snarl, “We’re fine. We weren’t that loud. Were you standing right outside her door?” He glanced at Joy, and his tone was perfectly polite when he said, “I’m ready when you are.”
Joy ignored him to smile at Dozer. “See? Just fine.” She shut the door on both men.
Chapter Sixteen
Tuesday 5:23 a.m.
Gunner glared at the door then glared at Dozer. It was his fault Joy left last night. He’d put the spectre of someone watching them and reporting them in her head. “What do you want?”
Dozer’s lips twitched before he laugh-coughed into his hand. “Short briefing on what we’ve uncovered while you were sleeping.”
It looked like he was going to keep talking, so Gunner went ahead and shut that down. “Wait until Joy is out.” He paused, lowered his voice and said, “If it concerns the investigation, she needs to be present if at all possible.”
Dozer rocked back on his feet a little. “Ah, sorry. I should have thought of that.”
“Yes, you should have.” Gunner went back inside his room and shut the door on the smug bastard.
It was better than what he wanted to do, which was tell the irritating bastard to fuck off. That would be a one-way ticket into a rubber room. Gunner already had that psychologist watching him for the warning signs of losing his shit. Anything that uncooperative would get him off the case and active duty, and result in a new partner being assigned to Joy.
She’d repeatedly said she didn’t want to break in another partner. She hated the get to know you stage, said it was too much work. So, he’d better not screw up.
That thought had him relaxing for the first time since he’d woken up to find himself alone.
Holy fuck, was he that needy?
What he really needed was to pull his head out of his ass before Joy, or Dozer, questioned why his behavior had gone from jerk to asshole in the space of a few hours.
Stop being a big baby.
Gunner grabbed his go-bag then went to the door to find Dozer leaning against the wall between his room and Joy’s.
“I assume we need to vacate our rooms?” he asked the other man in a perfectly reasonable tone.
“Don’t know where we’ll be tonight, so yeah,” Dozer said as if he hung out in hotel hallways every other day.
Gunner grunted, did one more check around the room, then picked up his stuff to wait in the hall.
Both men studied each other.
Gunner wondered what the other man was looking for on his face.
“You good to go?” Dozer asked in a quiet voice and with a pleasant expression.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Yesterday turned out to be a shit show with you having to tackle that moron wearing the vest, and Joy putting a bullet in him only a couple of feet from you.” The polite smile was gone now, replaced by serious concern.
Gunner shrugged. The agent could fish all he wanted to, this fish wasn’t biting. “The vest was fake, and Joy is an excellent shot.”
The door behind Dozer opened, and Joy stepped out.
She paused when she saw them. “You guys waiting for me, or are you trying to stare holes into each other’s head?”
“Waiting,” Dozer and he said at the same time.
She rolled her eyes. “It’s too early for macho bullshit.” She headed for the elevator with her go bag. “I need coffee.”
Gunner followed, with Dozer bringing up the rear.
They got on the elevator and got off on the main floor. The breakfast room was open and the smell of coffee woke up his stomach.
All three got food and coffee then found a table in one corner.
“You two are eating like this is your last meal,” Dozer said, watching them with raised eyebrows. “And you expect someone will try to take it away.”
Gunner stopped mid-chew to stare at the agent.
Joy chuckled, but it didn’t sound all that happy. “Old habits die hard.” She went back to eating with single minded focus.
“Habits?” Dozer asked.
“Lack of food, time, and safety forces a body to develop certain habits,” Gunner explained. “When there’s food, you eat it, because you never know when you could be called to an emergency, attacked by artillery, or have your next meal blown up by assholes.”
“This is the United States,” Dozer said, sounding insulted. “Not some third world country at war with itself.”
Joy put down her fork. “If people were more aware of what’s going on around them, some terrorist attacks and mass shootings might be prevented.” She finished her coffee. “We aren’t immune to violence. Most people just don’t expect it. They figure it happens to other people, never them. Until it does.”
Dozer shook his head. “You two are depressing.”
“Thanks,” Gunner said. He glanced around, but there were only a couple other people in the breakfast area, neither close enough to overhear them. “How about giving us that report?”
Dozer also looked around before saying, “When the computer guys tried to reconstruct the files, the entire system shut down.” He pressed his lips together tightly. “They’re still working on it. In the meantime, we’re working with the shipping department at the brewery. They’re giving us some useful info, but only for the last few days. Where earlier kegs went…” He shrugged. “They don’t remember specifics.”
“What do they remember?”
“Spring Break is only days away. A lot of hotels, restaurants, and bars started ordering extra stock a few weeks ago. Frank Creek had done some kind of push in New Orleans for his craft beer. The shipping people said they remember a number of kegs going out to the city in the last couple of weeks.”
“What about other cities?”
“Shipments went out to at least ten other cities in south eastern states.”
Gunner and Joy exchanged horrified expressions.
“How are we—” Joy began.
“Homeland, the CDC, and the FBI have combined resources,” Dozer interrupted. “We’ve put out a recall on all Frank Creek beer and we’re organizing teams to track down every barrel and bottle, but…”
“But?” Gunner asked.
“After you two crashed, a team of CDC investigators discovered that not every k
eg tested positive. In fact, more than half of the kegs only tested positive around the taps, but the beer inside tested negative for E. coli.”
“Doesn’t change our response,” Joy told him. “We still have to find every drop of that beer and destroy it.”
“Find anything interesting in Mike’s cell phone?” Gunner asked.
“What wasn’t there was more interesting than what was,” Dozer said. “His texting history was completely empty and showing no messages sent. Ever. He’d also managed to uninstall a bunch of apps, but hadn’t gotten to them all before your altercation with him began.”
He’d have only done that if… “He knew we were coming?”
“Or guessed a visit from law enforcement wouldn’t be long in arriving,” Dozer said. “But he hadn’t gotten it all, which means we got lucky.”
“How so?” Joy asked.
“Mike was taking a trip to New Orleans. His itinerary, hotel info, and a meeting in his calendar all seem to say he was going there on legitimate business.”
“I’m hearing another but,” Joy said.
“His brother says he had no idea Mike was planning a trip, and that it wouldn’t have been for the brewery if he did go.”
“A disgruntled younger brother devises a plan to destroy the family business.” Joy shook her head. “Sounds like the plot on a daytime soap opera. This guy didn’t come up with this on his own.”
“Agreed,” Dozer said. “We’re looking at all his social media accounts to see if we can identify who might have been involved.”
“What about our would-be suicide vest participant?” Gunner asked. “Any connections between him, Mike, and unknown persons?”
“We’re working that angle, too.” Dozer’s cell phone buzzed, and he pulled it out to look at it. “Six months ago, Mike rented a storage unit not far from here.” He glanced at them. “Feel like a field trip?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” Gunner said. Now that he had some food and caffeine in his system, he was more than ready to go, he was ready to kick some idiot ass.
“I need you suited up,” Dozer said to them as they walked out of the hotel.