I opened my apartment and grabbed a cold beer from the fridge. I took a moment to let the liquid soothe my soul, forget my day, wash away the picture in my head of Paul’s brains splattered on the concrete floor of the grinder. It definitely wasn’t the first time I’d seen a dead man, and I could guarantee it wouldn’t be the last.
My phone beeped. April. Five missed calls. And a text. What the fuck? She never blew up my phone like this.
April: 911! Please call.
Fuck. I prayed my kids were okay and called her back.
“What’s up? Are the kids okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah. They are fine.”
I didn’t have time for her drama. Unless it was about our kids, I didn’t want to talk to her. She had told me once that she had wanted to be “friends” with me still. What kind of bullshit was that? I told her that if she wanted to be friends with me, if it didn’t kill her that I was with other women, then she’d never loved me like I’d loved her.
“What do you want?”
Her voice sounded breathless and emotional. Like she had been crying. “Paul. What happened to Paul? I talked to Dara, and she’s hysterical. Were you there? What happened?”
Unbelievable. “Yeah, I was fucking there. I work there, remember? I’m the one who found him. Suicide. Or maybe someone offed him. I don’t care. You can tell Dara her husband was a prick and she’s better off. Anything else, or can I go drink my beer?”
She exhaled. Why was she so upset? She hadn’t sounded this distraught when she had left me. “Just Paul. Who would kill him? He didn’t seem suicidal . . . I mean Dara said he was acting normal yesterday.”
“Yeah, well, now he’s dead. They didn’t have any kids. We do, so pull yourself together.” I exhaled. I wanted something from her, so I forced myself to play nice. “Hey, can you bring them out? I miss them.”
I waited for her answer. I’d fought so hard for joint custody, but because I was always deployed, I’d had no chance of getting it. I was regulated to holidays and a week during the summer. At least I could visit them on my frequent trips to Las Vegas. I was a regular at The Crazy Horse, numbing my mind with women and whiskey.
“Sure. Yes, actually. I was planning on driving out. In fact, I need a break. Can you take them for a bit? I can leave tomorrow. Make that tonight.”
What the fuck was wrong with her? She never offered me the kids without a fight. Never. But I didn’t want to question her and have her change her mind. “Yeah. I’d love that. I can work something out for daycare while I’m at work. Maybe Mia can watch them. Can I talk to them?” I’m not sure why I even asked, because I already knew the answer.
“No. They are playing upstairs, but I’m going to get them ready. Okay, Mitch. I’ll text you. And let me know if you think of anything about Paul. I just can’t believe he’s gone.”
“Whatever. Bye.”
I hung up the phone and pounded my beer. Why did she care so much about Paul? Was she fucking him? Her best friend’s husband? I definitely wouldn’t put it past her or Paul.
She wasn’t my problem. Neither was Paul. I just wanted to see my kids. My little man, Sam, was five, about to start kindergarten in the fall. That boy wasn’t like me at all. He was kind, sensitive, and cautious. Now my daughter, Sienna, on the other hand, was my clone. Sassy little daredevil. She was six and very protective of her baby brother. But it wasn’t her job to be protective of him. It was mine. And I had failed. Without them living in the same state as I did, the best I could do was send money and be available every time their mother would let me see or talk to them.
Well, maybe she would honor her word and bring them to me. For now, the only thing I could do was get ready for my date.
I hit the shower. The hot water massaged my aching muscles as I scrubbed the day off my chest. This day, this job, this life was so intense. I never had downtime. I was either at war abroad or at war at home. I couldn’t even relate to women anymore—well, outside of the bedroom, anyway. How could I pretend to care about the newest movie or the latest reality star gossip when my buddies were getting offed overseas? And even being killed here.
But with Ash, it was different. She knew the drill. She was NCIS, for fuck sake. She had investigated Joaquín’s case. I’m sure she had already had read my entire personnel file. I had nothing to hide from her. I refused to keep secrets from Ashley.
I had one chance to get it right with this woman. No more of my usual bullshit games. I fucking wanted her. She had vanished after the last time I’d seen her—changed her cell number, hadn’t replied to my messages on her office phone. Seeing her today at the compound had brought all the lust I’d harbored for her back. I wasn’t going to squander my second chance with this woman.
So, I was pulling out all the stops. I dressed in my nicest suit and made reservations at the best restaurant in La Jolla, with views of the ocean. Excitement built inside me. Planning a date was like preparing for a mission. But instead of my goal being taking out a terrorist, my goal was to seduce Ashley. And I planned on eating her for dessert.
I took my truck, even though I’d briefly considered taking my bike. She already knew the bad boy. I wanted to get her to know the gentleman, even if I was barely acquainted with him myself.
I cruised up north on the freeway and exited toward the beach. She lived in Cardiff-by-the-Sea, a cool, laid-back hippie surf town. Man, I’d love to live here, but it was too far from base.
I stopped at the grocery store to buy her flowers and then walked up the street to her place. It was a small apartment. A few bros drank on a patio, and some bum eyed me as I approached her door. Protectiveness coiled through my body. I knew Ash packed heat, but even so, I hated the thought of all these men living around her, no doubt lusting after her like I did.
I rang the doorbell and Ash opened the door. One look at her slamming body, her luscious lips, and her bright blue eyes, and I was rendered speechless.
“Well, well, Petty Officer Martinez. Don’t you clean up nice?”
I handed her the flowers. As much as I wanted her, I had to stay cool.
“It’s just a suit, Autumn. Underneath it, I’m still your bad boy.”
3
Ashley
I wanted to rip that suit off of his body and have my way with him. Damn, he looked fine. Our date hadn’t even begun, and I was already out of breath. I would bet my career on the fact that Mitch was a beast in bed. But I couldn’t sleep with him. I wouldn’t. One fuck and I’d be completely addicted.
I inhaled the dozen red roses he had given me. A suit, flowers, cologne—hell he had even shaved. Mitch was definitely trying to impress me.
Or he had an ulterior motive.
“Thank you for the roses. They are beautiful. You can come in. I’m going to put these in water.”
Mitch walked into my place like he owned it. But instead of relaxing on the sofa while I cut the ends of the stems off my roses, he cased my home. I decided against stopping him. There would be no point really. Plus, I wanted to observe him.
He walked over to my walls and examined the photos of my family, lingering over the one of me holding my baby sister. But he didn’t ask me any questions. I was sure he was taking mental notes.
But then he saw the picture that I knew would intrigue him. “Your dad was in the Navy?”
“Yup.” He didn’t need the details. I was supposed to be the one investigating him.
“Was he a prick? Is that why you hate all of us?”
I chopped the final stem off at a sharp angle making sure to snap the scissors loudly. “I don’t hate you. I just don’t buy into the full ‘I’m a Navy SEAL, I’m above the law, I’m God’s gift to women’ image you all project.”
Mitch smirked at me, and I could feel every hair on my body stand at attention. Okay, maybe he had the God’s gift to women thing going on, but I was still suspicious of him.
“Okay. The flowers are all done. Ready for dinner? I was hoping to go somewhere quiet, where we could talk
.” About the case. I meant about the case.
“It’s a surprise. Let’s go.”
He placed his strong hand on my back and led me out of my own apartment. Five minutes into this date and he was already in control.
I secretly hoped he had brought his motorcycle. The thought of being forced to wrap my arms around his broad back as I clutched onto his thighs with mine caused my heartbeat to race.
Instead, his huge truck was parked down the street from my place. He opened the passenger door for me and hoisted me up into his truck. He climbed in on his side and turned left toward the coast, driving alongside the beach.
An empty feeling formed in the pit of my stomach. I fought the urge to flee, make up some excuse on why I had to leave. But this was work, even if I was attracted to this man. Why was I so nervous? I couldn’t recall anyone making me feel like I was a virgin on a first date.
“Do you surf?”
“What? No. Why?”
“Because you live in Cardiff. Why live here if you don’t surf?”
Good question. “When I was assigned to San Diego, I checked out a bunch of towns. I wanted to live near the beach, even if I don’t go there often. I mean, I try, but I don’t have any time.”
“Seriously, Ashley? You’re NCIS, not a SEAL. You don’t deploy. I’m not questioning your commitment to your work, but you do have days off. Most NCIS crap is low-level Navy drug stuff. I was a Master-at-Arms before I was a SEAL. I know the drill.”
I knew he had been military police before he had received his BUD/S contract. I actually had scoured Mitch’s record when I had been investigating the Joaquín Cruz case. Mitch’s military record was stellar. I had also met his ex-wife during my investigation, and she had been cold to me. Not that I blamed her for that, as I had been deep undercover back then as Autumn. Knowing the team guys’ penchant for strippers, I hadn’t expected a welcome reception from one of their wives.
“True. I don’t know. I like the town. I like the vibe. I’m a bit of a hermit. I usually spend my time off doing research.” On the kidnapping of my sister.
“Sounds like a blast. Well, I can show you a good time.”
“I don’t doubt it. But Mitch . . . I agreed to meet you tonight because I wanted to talk about Paul.”
He scowled when I mentioned Paul. Why? What did he know? What wasn’t he telling me?
He didn’t acknowledge my request. I would bring Paul up again later. The truck continued to hug the coast, and we ended up in La Jolla. Mitch valeted the car and led me into a fancy restaurant, George’s at the Cove. I studied Mitch’s gaze when the stunning hostess greeted us, expecting him to give her a full-body eye fuck. I was pleasantly surprised that he showed no reaction to the beautiful woman at all and kept his hand pressed into the swell of my back.
The hostess led us to a table with an ocean view and delivered complimentary champagne to our table. I wanted to start grilling Mitch about what he knew about Paul, what Paul’s relationship had been like with Joaquín, even though I had asked Paul those questions last year. I needed to find out if Mitch had any idea who could be a suspect.
But instead, I took a deep breath. A moment to appreciate the beauty of the rippling waves, savor the refreshing taste of the bubbly, inhale the scent of the intoxicating man sitting in front of me who was gazing into my eyes as if I was the most beautiful woman in the world.
But all of these wonderful things seemed empty. How could I enjoy the magnificence of this night when my soul was uneasy? I’d vowed to my mother that I would never stop looking for my sister. I was positive she was dead. But at night, my dreams were worse. Was she being held somewhere against her will? A victim of human trafficking?
Mitch’s voice broke my mania. “A toast. To the smart, sexy woman I conned into going on a date with me.”
A lump grew in my throat. If his goal was to charm my panties off me, it was working. “Thanks, Mitch. This place is beautiful. Let’s have a good time.”
The waiter came and took our orders. Mitch ordered the tasting menu for us with wine pairings. I was more than a little impressed by his choice in restaurant. My prejudice was showing. I had dismissed Mitch as a classless SEAL, yet he clearly had taste and appreciated the finer things in life.
“So, babe, why did you want to be NCIS? With a Harvard degree, you could be rich. Why waste your time investigating a bunch of crazy, messed-up sailors?”
My chest constricted. Date or not, I had to make a choice right now about whether or not I should be honest with him. I was never honest with men. I was always playing a game. Either deeply undercover as Autumn, my alter ego, or in my personal life as a cold, emotionless woman who had no desire for affection.
I took a big gulp of water. Mitch would easily detect my lies—he had been taught interrogation techniques. If I wanted him to open up to me about the SEALs, I had to be open with him myself.
“My baby sister was kidnapped. I lived on base at the time. She was never found. I was young when it happened, so I don’t remember much. But when I became older, I did my own research and found out that NCIS didn’t really do a great job investigating the case. They hadn’t followed up on many leads. I vowed to do better, if not to find my sister, then to spare another family the heartache that mine went through.” My mind flashed to my mom drinking herself to oblivion every night, especially after my dad left. I finished off my own glass of champagne.
“That’s rough. Sorry to hear that.”
My turn. “Why’d you want to become a SEAL?”
“I joined the Navy just to get benefits. I got my high school girlfriend pregnant, so we married young. I just wanted to support them.” He gritted his teeth. “But once I was in, I wanted it to be more than just a job. I met a SEAL on one of the ships I was on, and he encouraged me. Really believed in me. No one had ever done that for me before.”
Oh no, there it was. My heart ached for Mitch. He wasn’t lying to me; I could hear the pain in his voice. This jaded asshole SEAL had once wanted to do right by his young family. What had happened in their marriage? Why did I even care?
“Well, you made a good choice. From what I’ve read and seen, you’re a great SEAL.”
His eyes gazed down at his phone. “Dammit. Sorry. I have to take this.”
I nodded, and he stood up and walked away from the table. I dug into the bread basket and studied the people dining around me. Most were older, in their late forties or early fifties. A couple to my right was holding hands, both of them wearing wedding rings. Was it possible to have a long-lasting marriage? Somehow, I always believed that even if my sister hadn’t vanished, my parents’ marriage still would’ve imploded.
Mitch walked back over to the table a few minutes later, his face red.
“What? What is it?”
He threw some cash down on the table and hustled me out of the restaurant. “Ash, I hate to do this to you, but it’s an emergency. I have to go. I can call you a cab.”
“An emergency? Work-related?” That would be great. I could maybe get a lead.
“No. I just got a call from my daughter. My ex-wife is in the hospital. She overdosed. My daughter found her and called 911. They live in Vegas.”
Oh, fuck. Now I felt bad about being excited about his emergency because it could open up a lead to this case “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to fly out there and get my kids.”
I was in the middle of a hot case. I needed to be here in case there were any leads.
But at that moment, I didn’t care about my case. I ached for the helpless little girl who was worried about her mommy. I knew what she was feeling. I knew how scary it felt when the adult who was supposed to be taking care of you couldn’t take care of herself.
Vegas was just quick plane ride away. If I needed to get back here fast, I could make that happen.
“I’m coming with you.”
He glared at me. “Why?”
“Because I want to. You don’t need to go through thi
s alone.”
A pained smile graced his face. “Thanks. I’d like that.”
Mitch handed the ticket to the valet and accepted my offer to drive while he made arrangements. After thirty minutes of frantic calls to the base, his friends, and his kids, we arrived at the private airport where one of his friends was ready to whisk us to Vegas.
As the plane took off, Mitch grabbed my hand. “Thanks, babe. I’ll make this up to you.”
I didn’t respond. He didn’t need to make this up to me. Despite the tragic ending to our first date, Mitch had done something for me that no one had done in a long time.
He had defrosted my cold heart.
4
Mitch
Man, I needed a whiskey. But I couldn’t drink, not now. I had to be one hundred percent sober tonight. The cops had informed me that my kids were at a neighbor’s house. She had agreed to keep them until I arrived. I had to be on my best behavior.
Overdosed? April had fucking overdosed? The bitch didn’t even use at all, at least not when I was with her. I was no saint—I’d partied with the best of them. Hell, I brought the party most nights. Coke, speed, Molly. But never, ever around the kids. I didn’t even drink around them.
And why on earth would she overdose? Had it been on purpose? Because of Paul? She must’ve been fucking him. That motherfucker was lucky he was dead. If I had found out that he had been screwing the mother of my kids, I would’ve killed him myself. Not because I was jealous. Hell, no. That bitch could fuck a terrorist, and I wouldn’t care. But I didn’t want a shady motherfucker like Paul around my kids.
Ashley’s head rested on my shoulder. Her fruity shampoo was like some type of drug for me. I couldn’t recall having ever been this attracted to a woman in my life. I had always had a thing for Mia, mainly because I’d loved how she treated Grant when they first started dating, but Ash was completely different. She was so put-together, so smart, so accomplished. She didn’t need a man. But I wanted her to need me.
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