Wild Card Undercover

by Kari Lemor

  More money was placed on the table and cards dealt.

  “So, Mr. Martin, I hear you are setting up a business here in Miami.”

  “Trying to, yeah.” Chris was deliberately vague. “I’ve got a few contacts I’ve been meeting with. Taking the rest of the time to soak in the sights.”

  “And Katie’s one of those sights?” Barone growled.

  “One of the best.”

  Moreno handed Chris three new cards. “You must forgive Augustus. He has been trying to get Katie interested for quite a while now. He is jealous you walked in and managed effortlessly.”

  More money landed on the table. “I wouldn’t say it was effortless. She was a little stubborn at first. But the manager of the hotel was threatening her with the police and I stepped in and got her out of that mess.”

  “So, she’s merely showing her gratitude?” Moreno asked.

  “Something like that. It doesn’t hurt that she can use the pool all day and I feed her better than she’s been fed in a while. And the way she shows her gratitude is…satisfying.”

  Barone tightened his jaw then threw his cards down, folding. Chris followed suit.

  The next hand Chris won and Moreno pumped him again for information on his business.

  “It’s mostly electronic and technology sales. I’m in the market for good quality equipment at discounted prices. I have tons of buyers eager to pick this stuff up for resale.”

  He purposely kept the details ambiguous. Moreno had spoken to their convict and had been told Chris dealt in stolen goods. Hopefully it would spark his interest or at the very least get him invited back here more often. And the conversation wouldn’t be filtered.

  He lost a few more hands and won some, leaving him with half of what he came in with. Moreno should be pleased.

  As Barone dealt the last hand, Chris looked at Moreno asking, “You never did say what you wanted with Katie last week, the day I beat up your two boys.”

  The smirk on the man’s face made Chris sick. “The same thing you’ve been getting from her. I’ve seen the two of you at the resort. I was hoping perhaps she would treat me to a sample of that sweetness.”

  It was a good thing Meg had left; she’d be horrified. Chris was even more thankful he hadn’t listened to her insistence that she was fine walking home by herself. He never would have forgiven himself if Moreno had gotten a hold of her that way. How to keep Moreno off her until they could put him away?

  “I don’t like to share, if it’s all the same to you.” Chris made his words casual yet clear. “But once I’m finished with her, she’s all yours, day and night.”

  “With some new skills too.” Moreno couldn’t hide his pleasure, the scumbag.

  What scared Chris though was the absolute delight shining from Barone’s eyes.

  Chapter 10

  The rain fell heavy, matching Meg’s mood. She watched the empty beach from the bedroom balcony, tears intermingling with the mist. Empty. She understood that. Felt it deep inside today. The worst part, it was her day off. She couldn’t even distract herself with that.

  Leaning on the railing, she didn’t care that she got even wetter. Nothing could penetrate the blanket of sorrow covering her. It had seeped inside her skin, chilling her to the bone. Why had she allowed herself to get into this fix? Couldn’t she have been happy with her life and stayed away from Eddie and his bad-boy grin?

  She’d asked herself these questions countless times but never seemed to have good answers. Because there weren’t any. She’d been selfish and stupid. And now she was paying the price.

  “Hey, there you are.” Chris came up behind her and she attempted to wipe her face. It didn’t work though. Today there was no stopping the tears.

  His presence filled her senses but she didn’t turn around. No witty comments or sarcastic banter for him today. She couldn’t even pull up a halfhearted greeting.

  “Meg,” he tried again his voice filling with concern. “You okay?”

  He gently turned her around his eyes matching the concern in his voice. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Did I forget to put the toilet seat down again?”

  He got credit for trying but laughter was completely out of the question today. Overwhelming sadness welled up inside, her face crumpling in despair. Her tears blurred the alarm on his face as his arms curled around her. She didn’t fight. Just let herself be pulled into his warm embrace and solid comfort.

  “Sweetie, what is it? Are you sick? Hurt?”

  She burrowed deeper into his warmth, shaking her head. No one had held her this way in far too long. Her sobs increased when she realized how much she missed it, needed it.

  He scooped her up tight against his chest, her feet leaving the floor. She didn’t care where he was taking her; she needed this contact for as long as she could get it. The couch cushions soon bent under her weight, hers and Chris’s. He still held her close.

  She wanted to let him know she was fine but right now she wasn’t. The comfort he offered only made the crying worse. Stupid girl. Stop your blubbering and pull yourself together.

  He stayed silent rubbing her back, holding her. When was the last time she’d cried like this? She couldn’t stop. He didn’t seem to care.

  He stroked a path up and down her back, gentle and soothing in its rhythm. He shifted his fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her face. The beat of his heart under her ear reminded her she wasn’t alone any more. But she had been for too long.

  When her sobs finally decreased, she found a tissue near her hand, the hand that had been curled into the snug navy t-shirt that now housed her tears. She eased back enough to blow her nose but still needed the warmth of his masculine arms. Resting her head on his firm chest she whispered, “I’m sorry I’m such a mess today.”

  He pressed his lips to her hair, intense hidden emotion saturated her body. Could she stay here forever?

  “Is there a reason for it or did everything finally catch up with you?” He made no attempt to remove her from her almost fetal position against him.

  She glanced up at him but never lost contact. “It’s my mom’s birthday today.”

  That was as far as she got before tears filled her eyes again. Damn. She needed to be stronger than this.

  “Oh, sweetie.” His arms provided the strength for her now and she took her fill. Who knew when she’d get this again. “I’m sorry. That’s got to be hard.”

  “I got through it last year. I don’t know why I’m freaking out so much today.”

  She did know, sort of. Last year she hadn’t been here that long. She figured she’d get out of it soon then get back home. She hadn’t expected a life sentence in hell. One of her own making.

  The arms around her were heaven and she didn’t want to leave. But it couldn’t last. Theirs was a business relationship. Agent and informant. Right now it seemed like so much more, and she’d enjoy every second. She snuggled in closer and his arms tightened around her.

  “I know.” Chris suddenly sat up straighter and emptiness cloaked her where his arms had been. “Why don’t we make a cake for her? We got all that baking stuff at the store last week so you could make cookies. Do you need anything else for a cake?”

  God, he was beautiful. Inside and out. Her spirits lifted and it took a few moments to shift gears. She wiped the last of the tears from her cheeks. “Think we’re all set for a cake, but frosting…I’d need confectioner’s sugar.”

  He looked skeptical. “Couldn’t I buy a can of frosting?”

  She scooted off the couch, hands on her hips. “Seriously? Canned frosting? Not for my mother’s birthday cake, muffin. She’d have my hide. Think we could bribe someone from the kitchen? I’d bet they have some.”

  He stood up next to her reaching for the phone. “You forget how important I am in this establishment. I can probably manage some confectioner’s sugar. How much do you need?”

  She recalled her mother’s recipe for
butter cream frosting. How much sugar? “At least four cups. Can you finagle that, Oh Important One?”

  He nodded as he got someone on the phone. What would she have done without him today? Spent the whole day crying, probably. And in that tiny dump she’d had. Yet again he was her hero. Not that she’d tell him. He teased her enough about being a damsel in distress. She smiled at him hoping he saw the gratitude shining from her eyes.

  * * * *

  “Are you sure you don’t want another piece?” Meg asked as she watched Chris devour the last of his cake.

  “I already had three,” he complained. “Are you trying to make me fat?”

  He picked up their dishes to rinse in the sink then took her hand leading her to the couch. “Now it’s time for an afternoon nap.”

  As he stretched his long legs out she crossed her arms over her chest. “Seriously? It’s five o’clock. I’m usually working now.”

  He closed his eyes relaxing. He’d planned on going to the club tonight while she stayed and had some time to herself. But after her little break-down, he figured it might be better to keep her occupied and busy. “And I usually take a little nap at this time. Helps me make it through the night until I have to walk you home.”

  “Walk me home?” Her outraged voice moved closer. The cushions next to him lowered. When he opened his eyes she was leaning over him. “I have told you over and over that I don’t need anyone to walk me home. I’m a big girl now. I can tie my own shoes and everything.”

  “I know you are,” he said grinning. “Humor me.”

  “So you get a nap while I slave away serving drinks.”

  “Hey, I don’t sleep until noon like you do,” he pointed out. “Plus, I’m older than you. I need my rest. Come on, I’ll teach you how to take a nap.”

  He pulled on her until she was aligned with his body along the couch. With her curves pressed so close he wasn’t sure he would actually fall asleep. You’d think snuggling and kissing her so often recently would make him immune to her intoxicating presence. Hadn’t happened yet. Her head on his chest and her hair tickling his nose stirred something inside that was difficult to control.

  She propped her chin on his chest asking, “So, exactly how old are you?”

  He chuckled. “Older than you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Obviously. So what, like forty?”

  “Forty?” He jerked up glaring at her. “Do I look like I’m forty?”

  Her giggling settled him down. If he looked forty then he needed to start taking better care of himself. “For your information, I turned thirty-one a few months ago. Nowhere near forty.”

  She snickered again, thinking she was funny. He’d let her have her fun. It was far better than the emotional wreck she’d been earlier. Her crying had sent him into a tailspin since he’d never seen her like that before. Her pride wouldn’t allow it. Luckily she’d let him give her comfort.

  She always felt so good in his arms, like right now. It could be habit forming. He’d have to watch that because she wouldn’t be around forever. But somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if they could…No, don’t even go there, Shaunessy. Don’t get too close to the damsels. That’s the golden rule. Save them, get them to safety, but never get too close. Getting close only causes pain.

  “So, where’d you learn to cook like that?” he asked. “That cake actually melted in my mouth. Even my mother doesn’t make a cake that delicious.” Of course he’d never tell her that. Not if he wanted to live.

  “My mom taught my sister Lizzy and me. We loved taking out the baking supplies and following the recipes that were passed down from my great-grandmother. We’d have so much fun making cakes for everyone’s birthday.”

  She grew quiet. Thinking about her mother and the fact it was her birthday today, no doubt. It was Meg’s birthday next week. Was she thinking of that too? He wished he could do something else to help her. Putting Moreno in jail would be great but they hadn’t gotten the right information yet.

  “So, tell me about your family. What would they be doing right now?” Would talking about them help? She’d had to tuck them away deep inside for so long to keep them safe, taking them out for a visit might be good for her.

  She smiled gratefully at him then lowered her head back to his chest. “They’d be having dinner tonight and Dad would probably do the cooking. He’s a great cook. Lizzie would be making the cake. Dad doesn’t bake and Mom doesn’t let him. Says he doesn’t have the right touch. And my brothers would be hanging around waiting for the food to be ready.”

  Her voice was soft but strong. Her body relaxed against him. She continued on for a while regaling him with stories of her brothers and their adventures then got quiet again. But this time it was a comfortable silence.

  “So what about your family?” She piped up after a few more moments of quiet. “You said your mom isn’t a good cook…”

  “I never said that,” he objected. “My mom is a great cook and she bakes a hell of a dessert too. She’d skin me alive if she ever thought I said that. She taught my little sister, Erin, so she’s not half bad either.”

  “What about your girlfriend,” she asked, her eyes glancing anywhere but at him. “Is she a good cook?”

  What was she talking about?

  “My girlfriend?” he repeated curiously. “That would be you, sweetie, wouldn’t it?”

  She scoffed. “Right. No, I mean the lady you talk to and say ‘I love you’ to on the phone. I’m not eavesdropping but this suite isn’t that big.”

  Her tone of voice definitely held a hint of jealousy and he was intrigued. Was she actually jealous or merely curious?

  “The one I…” he trailed off thinking who he spoke with on the phone. Usually Doolittle or…“My mom. The lady I talk to is my mom.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I call her every week or so if I can. When I was in Afghanistan she used to worry a lot because the communication was sporadic. I try and make it up to her now.”

  Meg propped her head on the arms now resting on his chest. “You were in Afghanistan? When you were in the Army?”

  “Yeah,” he said figuring she’d given some information on her family maybe he could give a little on his. Just to even things out. “I went to The Citadel, a military college in South Carolina then joined the Army for six years. When I got out I was offered this position with the Bureau. My major had been Criminal Justice.”

  “I thought you majored in rescuing damsels,” she teased. “Or was that just a hobby?”

  He grinned back. “President of the Distressed Damsel Club, right here.”

  “Did you practice much in Afghanistan or is that why you’re a little rusty?”

  He recalled some of the situations they’d encountered over there. No, he’d gotten practice. Maybe a little too much at times. She still looked at him expectantly so he took a deep breath and explained, “There were a few. Unfortunately you can’t rescue them all.” He’d tried, God knew he’d tried his best, but in a war zone your best wasn’t always good enough.

  She gave him a look of pity and he closed his eyes pretending to sleep. He didn’t want pity. She continued her questioning, this time in a slightly different line.

  “So why aren’t you married? All of the damsels turn you down and raise the drawbridge?”

  “No,” he chuckled though the humor wasn’t quite there. “Actually I don’t plan on getting married. I like being on my own. And there’s no chance of hurting anyone if I do something stupid.” He already had too much guilt about people who had gotten hurt under his care. No more was needed.

  Her expression was puzzled. “I don’t get it.”

  He sighed, giving away some of his anxiety. “My dad loves my mom, but about five years ago he was on a month-long business trip and cheated on her. It was only one time but Mom was devastated. Can’t blame her. My father confessed right away, he felt more than a little guilty, but it took a long time for Mom to get back to tr
usting him. I’m not sure she should have. I’m not sure I trust him not to do it again.”

  He sighed. “It was like my dad was betraying everything he ever believed in. Everything he ever taught me about respect and treating women with dignity.” How could he explain to her the lessons drilled into him over a lifetime and how his father’s actions had made him question all he’d ever done? The ingrained desire to make everything right for the people he loved and cared for. It had been destroyed on the day his dad betrayed his mom.

  “You haven’t forgiven him yet, have you?” she inquired.

  “No, not really. I get why he did it. Men think a little too much with certain body parts at times and he’d been away from home for a month. But it also made me think that I don’t ever want to hurt someone like he hurt my mom. If I’m not married or in a committed relationship, then that can’t happen. Problem solved.”

  “You can’t solve all your problems by avoiding anything that might lead to them. What kind of life is that?”

  The problem he was having right now was Meg’s hot little body pressed far too intimately against his. He disentangled himself, pushing off the couch.

  “One where you have far less problems,” he finally answered her question. “Why don’t we watch a movie? See if you can find anything on the TV.”

  He took a few minutes in the bathroom then made sure to sit on the opposite side of the couch from her. He concentrated on the movie and they continued chatting every so often. These quiet times together with her were enjoyable. They’d done this a few times, either on rainy days or her days off. It was a nice change from the blaring music and flashing lights of the club. And she had her feet up. Always something she wanted to do after being on them all night.

  Looking at her cute toes nestled against his thigh he wondered how she walked around as long as she did in those damn heels. It was surprising her feet weren’t more blistered or raw.

  “How are these puppies feeling today?” He picked up her left foot.

  “They’re not barking like on work days,” she quipped. “But they’re not in prime shape either. I swear when this is over, I will never wear high heels again.”