by Christi Snow
Mrs. Latham touched her cheek. “Thank you, dear.”
As we walked away, I threaded my hand through hers. She was getting more used to me using all these little touches. She didn’t even stiffen up this time.
I finally said, “Okay, you have to explain that. How did you and Mrs. Latham manage to become friends?”
“We share a love of that courtyard. I go there sometimes to write and clear my head. One of those times, we just happened to be there at the same time, and Mrs. Latham...” Elle shrugged. “Well, she’s kind of hard to resist when she wants to chat, and now, we’re friends.”
So many layers to this girl.
Not too many college kids would even notice an older person sitting alone like that. Not only had Elle noticed, but she had actively made an effort to do something nice for her.
“I think she’s lonely,” Elle said sadly. “Her husband died last year, and when we first met, she talked about him all the time. That’s why she comes to the campus. They met when they were both going to school. Being on campus reminds her of happier times with him. It’s just so sweet and romantic, even though it’s a bit bittersweet. I like her. When my life feels overwhelming, she grounds me.”
“That’s really nice,” I said.
Elle didn’t seem to have many friends. Her need for privacy probably made it hard to trust people, but like Trace had said...the ones that were in her inner circle were extremely lucky. I was suddenly finding myself wanting to be one of those trusted, chosen ones.
Then we were off on another hustle to wend our way to class, Sustaining Global Ecology, Natural Resources, and Economy this time. At this rate, I was going to need a nap...preferably not during class.
So, when we sat down in the next lecture hall, I decided to check in on my Hawk Works email to see if there was any work I needed to be doing. My laptop was outfitted with a security screen, so I didn’t have to worry about one of the students reading over my shoulder.
I was also able to run hacking software against all the computers running in the room, just in case one of Elle’s classmates had important information about what was going on with her. The investigators researching her kidnapping had very little to go on for the suspect’s profile except that he was obsessed and willing to go to extremes. Any one of the people she went to class with could be that person or someone working for him.
So, I’d run the program in every class so far today. The only thing I discovered, though, was that a startling number of students watched porn in class. Seriously, what was up with that?
I also found out that Dillon would be arriving in a couple more hours. I checked today’s schedule and sent him a text that he’d have to catch a ride to the Windsett Complex since Elle had classes until seven tonight.
Man, her Monday schedule sucked hairy donkey balls. I sent a note to Jennifer to let her know exactly who Dillon was, and that it was okay to let him into Elle’s place.
He’d have a couple of hours there before we got home, so I emailed him a checklist of security to-dos within the apartment. Number one was roll-down, metal shutters for the windows. Elle’s windows had bulletproof glass, but the extra layer of security would give both her and me a bit more peace of mind.
As we walked between the next classes, Elle opened her backpack and removed a package. She opened it and offered me one of the big, macadamia nut cookies.
I couldn’t mask my surprise, so of course she took offense. “What?” she practically yelled at me. “You’re lagging a bit. The sugar will help revive you, and these have nuts in them, so there’s protein, too.” She nudged the cookie at me again. “It will help. I promise.”
“Thanks.” I took the cookie and bit into it. I didn’t know what was more disconcerting...the fact that I was lagging or the fact that she could read me so well. Neither was necessarily good for my ability to do my job.
“So, why is your Monday schedule so brutal?” I asked.
“I want to get this degree done this year, and that should be do-able. That meant I needed to hit it hard this semester. Normally, I don’t take more than eighteen hours, but I’m taking twenty-one in person and another three online. My thought was that I could drop one if I needed to. I wasn’t counting on getting kidnapped and missing three weeks of the first month in class. Overall, my professors have been great and have allowed me some leeway, but I haven’t been in class enough to know if I should drop one and which one that should be if I do.”
She pointed to the doorway of our next class. “So, yeah, Mondays are a bear, but the flipside of that is that my Tuesdays and Thursdays are so easy. It makes today worth it knowing that tomorrow, I’m only on campus for two hours.”
I waggled my eyebrows at her. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter Six
Elle
Jonah impressed me on his first day of trudging around campus. I figured this would be my way of getting rid of his immediate presence without even trying. But he’d shown remarkable stamina and interest in some of the subject matter, which even I knew could be really dry some days.
“How old are you?” I asked him as we trekked out to the remote parking lot.
When VA had brought him yesterday, I’d assumed he was much older, like in his thirties judging by his job and his overwhelming confidence, but now I wondered. Walking around campus with a backpack, he looked like every other young guy walking around.
“Twenty-six. Why?”
“Just curious. Did you ever go to college?”
“No. I joined the army when I was seventeen.”
“I didn’t even know that was allowed at that age.”
He shrugged. “I had graduated from high school, and my mom gave her permission.”
“So, how does one go from joining the army to being this?” I waved my hand at his still impressive form even after hiking all over campus all day. His biceps bulged under his T-shirt, giving me a glimpse of a tattoo that I’d caught myself fantasizing about licking several times today. The guy was gorgeous, built, and way too much...everything...for my peace of mind.
“I scored through the roof on my ASVAB—that’s the military entry test—for computers and technology. As a result, the army fast-tracked me to work intel special ops. My last tour of duty, I was overseas and—” His eyes filled with an unspoken pain. He swallowed a couple of times, and I focused on watching his throat work, waiting for him to continue, hating his pain. “Things at home kind of fell apart, so I didn’t re-up my enlistment. But I caught the eye of one of the officers who was on her way out of the military and starting up the Austin office of Hawk Works. She offered me a job, and here we are.”
“Do you like it?” I didn’t ask what I really wanted to...what happened at home? I knew enough about Jonah to understand he wouldn’t like it if he realized he’d let a little bit of his hurt show.
“I do. Every day is something different. A new challenge. A new test. I like that it keeps my skills sharp and constantly teaches me new ones.”
“So, you’re good with computers. What else do you excel at?” Why the hell had that sounded so suggestive?
Jonah laughed, low and sexy. “I’m going to assume you were talking about my job and not other things.”
Heat flooded my face. “Please do.”
His hand tightened on mine for a split second, and a bit of challenge entered his eyes before he banked it.
But damn, just that suggestion that he might go a different route had my panties wet with anticipation.
“I’m exceptionally good at my job. I was a small kid.”
My eyes widened as I looked at him now. He wasn’t huge in the muscle-bound jock kind of way, but damn, the guy had a rockin’ body with nicely molded muscles at every turn. “I can’t even imagine that.”
He shrugged. “Well, it’s true, and I got picked on a lot at school. My mom finally had enough of me coming home with a black eye, so she enrolled me in a martial arts academy just so I could protect myself when I needed to. They taught the
Kennedy Aaron way of fighting. Are you familiar with him?”
I nodded enthusiastically. I was more than familiar with Kennedy. “Well, yeah. Everyone knows Kennedy Aaron. His movies are guaranteed mega hits. Girls watch him because he’s sexy as fuck. Guys like his movies because he’s tough as shit.” His success was phenomenal, especially considering he was into his fifties now.
Jonah nodded. “Yeah, he’s pretty bad-ass. I hope someday I actually get to meet him, because his methods changed my life.”
My mom had actually dated him when I was little, and I still kept in touch with him, but I sure wasn’t going to share that with Jonah. I didn’t need to give him any more reason to have him hang on to me. I’d learned the hard way that way too many people pretended to be my friend just so they could meet someone famous that I knew.
Jonah said, “It was the best thing that ever happened to me, and eventually my size caught up to me. I learned discipline and self-confidence through martial arts and how to use my body as a weapon. I’m now at the top levels of Judo, Taekwondo, and Krav Maga, so when it comes to hand-to-hand, I’m a handy guy to have around.” He nudged my shoulder. “Get it? Handy...hand-to-hand.”
I winced. “That was so bad.” But then I laughed, and he joined me.
We arrived at my SUV and began the drive back to my loft while I checked my phone. No messages. That was weird. Trace had said that he’d message me when he got back.
“Everything okay?” Jonah asked.
“Um, yeah. I expected a message from Trace, but he must not be home yet.”
“No.” Jonah shook his head. “I think he and Dillon showed up at about the same time. Dillon messaged me to let me know.”
“Hmm.” I frowned down at my phone. “Okay, I guess.” Still weird. Trace always messaged me when he said he would, but he was probably helping Dillon out with something. I knew Jonah had mentioned earlier today that he’d sent Dillon a list of jobs to get done in my apartment.
But when we arrived home, and walked in the front door, two surprised, sex-mussed heads and very bare shoulders popped up over the back of the couch. I would have assumed they were just in the middle of a make-out session and had shed shirts for heavy petting if there weren’t a pile of clothes, including jeans, underwear, and a couple of ripped open condom packets just inside the door on the kitchen floor.
That and the fact that the other guy—assuming he was Dillon—had a bare leg and foot rucked over the back of the couch made me pretty sure Trace was in between his thighs.
I behaved like a total adult and screamed, turning my back to them before I saw something about my friend that would scar me for life.
“What the fuck, Dillon?” Jonah asked, his arms wrapped protectively around me as if to protect me from the sex pheromones wafting off the guys.
There was a scramble of movement behind me, low curses, and I physically felt Jonah flinch. He groaned. “That is something I could have lived to one hundred and happily never seen. Damn, guys.”
I groaned this time. “Jonah, they were having sex on my couch.”
“Believe me, I’m aware.” Jonah’s voice was low and scratchy, pained, but on the verge of laughing.
“Ugh,” I whined. “I’m never going to be able to sit there again.”
“Meh. Dillon’s loaded,” Jonah said. “Make him buy you a new one.”
“Hey, way to throw a guy under the bus,” the naked stranger said from my living room.
“No.” Jonah shook his head. “I just had to see your hairy balls. I think you should pay some restitution for my pain and suffering.”
“I don’t have hairy balls.” Dillon sounded offended. “I manscape.”
“TMI, dude.” Jonah sounded so disgruntled.
I couldn’t help it. A hysterical bubble of laughter crawled up my throat.
“Oh, hell,” Jonah said obviously interpreting my laughter for crying. “You made Elle cry.” He rubbed up and down my back, which felt way too good. “Baby, it will be okay. Dillon will replace the couch, and he promises to never set his naked ass on any of your furniture again.”
I pulled my face out of the muscles of Jonah’s chest so he could see that the tears in my eyes and the sounds coming from me were from laughing so hard and not actual crying.
Relief flooded his face. He smiled down at me weakly as he brushed one of those errant tears off my cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked with a small, wary, half smile.
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s just so ridiculous. Please tell me they aren’t naked any more.” The room behind me had gone quiet.
Jonah glanced over my head. “Yeah, they’re decent.”
“Decent?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
Jonah chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. It would take more than clothes to make the two of them decent after that little show.”
“Hey.” That voice was Dillon’s.
“I resemble that remark.” That came from Trace.
I snorted, literally snorted. The entire situation was too ridiculous for words. I turned around and glared at my sheepish friend.
“Sorry, Elle,” Trace said.
Dillon stepped forward and held out his hand to me. “Dillon Matthews. Sorry about the initial impression.”
I winced down at his hand, and he quickly withdrew it. “Yeah, I should go wash that.” Red flashed high on his cheeks.
When Jonah had mentioned his friend, Dillon, this had not been what I’d imagined. Like Jonah, Dillon was definitely in good shape, but he was taller and therefore looked lankier and more awkward. That probably wasn’t helped by his overall appearance, shocking bright red, curly hair, freckled face and actual dimples. He looked exactly like what you’d expect a grown-up Tom Sawyer to look like. Definitely mischievous, but overall kinda cute in a boy-next-door kind of way. And definitely not Trace’s normal type. Trace went for svelte, metrosexual, model boys.
As Dillon dashed off to the bathroom, I refocused on Trace. “What the hell?” I whisper-hissed at him. “He only got here a couple of hours ago, and you already have him flat on his back.”
Trace shrugged, but glanced longingly down the hall where Dillon had disappeared. “What can I say? He’s...” His expression grew dreamy. “I like him.”
“Well, I should hope so, since you just fucked him.”
Trace frowned at me. “Don’t go clutching your pearls at me, Elle. Just because you enjoy not getting any doesn’t mean the rest of us have to abstain.”
This time I was the one blushing, so mortified and way too aware of Jonah, avidly watching this exchange.
“Nice,” I said in a sarcastic tone and turned away from him. He knew why I didn’t sleep around. For him to use that against me was cruel, especially when a guy I was sexually attracted to stood right next to me.
“I’m going to go upstairs to shower and change.” I’d been hiking around campus all day in these clothes. I wanted to wash the layer of dust off me, but really I just needed to escape from all the awkwardness of this moment.
“Elle...” Trace called after me.
I didn’t want to talk to him anymore. I waved him off as I climbed the stairs. “Not now, Trace,” I yelled back to him.
I went into my bathroom, closing the door tightly behind me, and slowly peeled off my clothes while the water heated. At the last moment, I decided a soaking bath would be better and grabbed my favorite bubbles, wishing that I’d taken a moment to grab some wine, too. I could do with a bit of decompressing after the last thirty-six hours. Hell, after the last month I’d had, I was lucky I wasn’t living life with a bottle in my hand twenty-four, seven.
I climbed into the steaming water and slowly and methodically relaxed my body, trying not to think about anything but happy thoughts. That lasted less than ten minutes before I heard scratching at my door. “Trace, you better not...”
The door popped open, and a wine bottle appeared. “I come with a peace offering,” Trace said, although I couldn’t see anything but his hand holding the wine.
“Okay,” I said grudgingly. “But only because you brought the vino, which I desperately need.”
Trace slipped into the room, nodding. “I know the way to your heart.” He poured me a very generous glass and the sat down on the floor beside the tub as he handed it to me. “I’m sorry. What I said before was way, way out of line,” he said as I took my first large gulp of the sweet, red Shiraz.
I nodded. “It was, but you were right. I was being a little judgy.” And maybe a little jealous. Not that I wanted to sleep with Dillon, but I wished it were that easy to just relax with someone enough to enjoy sex. But so far, I’d never managed it.
And just to prove how much Trace got me, he said, “You know...you and Jonah...you guys have some great chemistry. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing to explore that. I think you can trust him.”
“I don’t know...” Just thinking about Jonah and me like that had me squirming. I liked the idea of it...way too much for my peace of mind. And it was almost too much. I didn’t want to lose control. I couldn’t.
Letting Jonah in like that and then reading about it later in some sort of tabloid or tell-all book where he talked about what a disappointment I’d been would devastate me. A shiver of apprehension cascaded over me. No, it wasn’t worth the risk.
Trace didn’t read my mind this time, though. He was still caught up in the idea of us. “He’s gorgeous, obviously into you. The chemistry between you scorches all of us around the periphery. That would sizzle in bed, I promise you. He’s on VA’s payroll, so you should take advantage. Hit that man.” Trace waggled his eyebrows at me.
Deflect, deflect, deflect. “He’s not a rent boy, Trace.”
Trace froze, and I realized what I’d said as the blood drained from his face. He scrambled up off the floor. “Yeah, sorry,” he mumbled, his voice tight. “I forgot your aversion to those.” He rushed out of the bathroom.
Dammit. I shot out of the tub and grabbed a huge towel, wrapping it around me as I chased after him. “Trace!”