Revenge for Hire (The Get Even Agency)

by Lynn, Janice

  “You’re insane.”

  “Am I?”

  “Yes.” She sat up and dizziness washed over her. She glanced at the clock. Almost eleven and nothing to eat since the sandwich she’d picked at while lunching with Randi. “No more of this nonsense talk. I’m hungry.”

  “Again?” he teased, slipping back into playful mode as quickly as he’d left it.

  She glanced at him, grateful he didn’t persist on hanging onto the previous topic. Because not for one minute did she buy that Jude loved her.

  Of course, his loving her was what she’d set out to do. To make him fall in love with her so she could walk away from him and break his heart.

  Honestly, she’d not expected him to fall for her. Not really. Not that he had, but that he would say he had tripped up her mind. Made her wonder at the possibility of what if.

  These days, men desired her, but they didn’t love her. Not really. These days? Ha, when had a man ever loved her?

  Scott had told her point blank that he liked screwing her, but she’d never be good enough to marry.

  Which was fine. Better than fine, because she’d done so much better than if she’d settled for marriage. She had TGEA.

  No man had ever said he loved her. Not ever.

  Not until Jude.

  Why did he have to go and make this even harder than evening the score with him already was? Did he know what a fool he was playing her for? Possibly, and that’s why he said such crazy things.

  “For food,” she clarified a bit brusquely. “All this exercise and no sustenance is catching up.”

  He watched her beneath shaded eyes. “You want me to make you something or you want to do delivery?”

  Him make her something? First, he spouted words of love, now he planned to cook for her? That she had to see.

  “Let’s raid your kitchen and make do with whatever we can find.”

  “Okay, but I have to warn you, I don’t eat in much.”

  Why didn’t that surprise her?

  * * *

  The cold tile of Jude’s kitchen floor chilled his bare feet while he dug through his refrigerator and cabinets looking for something fit to feed an angel.

  Rather than put on her office clothes, she’d opted to wear one of his t-shirts—-a well worn Atlanta Braves one—-and a pair of sweats with the drawstring pulled tied. Her make-up was a bit smudged and her hair was mussed. Every time she caught him looking at her she’d give him a “what” glare.

  She’d never looked more beautiful.

  Only a fool would look at her and not weaken with desire. Jude wasn’t a fool.

  She leaned against the counter and chewed on her bottom lip, sending another glare his way when their eyes met.

  Maybe he was a fool. Of all the women he’d ever been with, he fell for the one who’d crawled from his bed while he slept. For the one who admitted she just wanted him for sex. For the one who told him outright she didn’t love him.

  Pretty damn foolish.

  So why did he keep having to wipe off his grin?

  He hadn’t been looking for love, hadn’t wanted love, but now that he was experiencing the emotion firsthand he found the euphoria damned addictive.

  His parents loved like that. If he’d thought about love Jude would have admitted that he’d hoped to someday find something similar, but some time in the way off future rather than during his sexual prime because he liked being single and playing the field.

  He’d been a fool thinking he wanted to permanently remain single and living the life of a playboy bachelor, though. Sex was sex and making love was—-Jude grinned and fought the urge to whistle a tune.

  “I can’t stand it any more,” she announced, pushing off the counter. “Why do you keep smiling like that?”

  He started to tell her, but she held up her hand.

  “No more of that stupid crap about love. Jeeze, surely you don’t go around thinking you fall in love with every woman you bed?”

  Jude straightened from where he pulled a carton of eggs and a half-eaten package of bacon from a refrigerator drawer.

  Her gaze flickered over his abdomen visible through his opened button-down shirt, quickly averting after pausing at where his top jean button was undone at his waist.

  He bit back one of the smiles that were obviously annoying her. Hell, if he believed for one second that she didn’t return his feelings, he’d be annoyed, too.

  But he did believe.

  Perhaps she didn’t realize how she felt yet or perhaps she did and was afraid to admit to her feelings due to past hurts, but Angel loved him.

  With time she’d come around.

  He’d give her time.

  “I find it amusing that I want to serve you a feast and am stuck offering you an omelet, bacon, and cinnamon toast. Seems a bit cliché, don’t you think?”

  She regarded him suspiciously, eyed the food, then shrugged. “Actually, it sounds delicious.”

  His stomach growled in response, reminding him he’d skipped lunch and burned a hell of a lot of calories in the past few hours.

  He took a stack of bread and began slathering butter on one side. “For the record, the answer to your question is no.”

  She looked confused. “What question?”

  “I’ve never told any woman I love her except for my mom,” he admitted. “Not until tonight.”

  She gulped. A panicky look filled her eyes. A look that said she’d like nothing more than to run as far away as she could. Probably a look similar to the one that had lit his eyes when Sara Brown started in on wanting to have his babies.

  Only this was different because Angela loved him. He knew she did.

  “You need me to help?” she asked, ignoring his comment and pulling her panic under control except for scraping her toe across the tile in a nervous gesture. Seeing her bright red toenail polish reminded him that he’d kissed that foot, kissed every single inch of her body. Staked a claim, really. Angel was his.

  Or more accurately, he should say he was hers.

  If she stayed in the kitchen he’d end up burning the food and himself. Besides, he needed a couple of minutes to think. Something he couldn’t do with her near and looking so sexy.

  “Nah, go prop your feet up and rest.” He winked, determined not to let her reticence get to him. “I want to save your energy for later.”

  She met his gaze, but didn’t smile like he’d hoped for, just nodded. “I need to make a phone call, anyway.”

  A phone call? Jude frowned at her backside as she left the kitchen. Who the hell would she be calling this late at night? And why?

  As tempted as he was to eavesdrop, that wasn’t his style. He wouldn’t start a relationship as important as this one by using subterfuge. Instead, he pulled out a Teflon-coated skillet, dabbed some butter in the center, and placed the cookware on the stove eye.

  He peeled the slices of bacon apart and placed them in a skillet of their own. He hadn’t asked her how she wanted her eggs. Omelet or scrambled or maybe over easy?

  He poked his head out the kitchen door in time to hear her say, “Love you, too.”

  That’s why he hadn’t wanted to eavesdrop. Because eavesdroppers heard things they didn’t want to hear.

  She glanced at him, realized he’d heard what she said. Guilt blared from her face and that’s when the lighthearted sureness in him tilted.

  He knew she loved him, but that didn’t mean she was free to love him. What if there was someone else in her life? Someone she also loved?

  The thought mind-boggled.

  His gaze dropped to her bare left hand. It was impossible. No way did his Angel belong to another man. Not when she so clearly belonged with him and vice versa.

  His gut clenched similar to how it had on Monday prior to his visit to Dr. Reinhold’s.

  “You need something?” she asked, when he just stood in the doorway without speaking.

  The truth. He needed the truth, but she was already running scared. If he pressed her, s
he might run for real. He’d said he’d give her time, so time he’d give.

  “How do you want your egg?”

  Her forehead crinkled. “I thought you were making omelets?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  She swallowed, her gaze not quite meeting his. “An omelet would be lovely.”

  Lovely?

  Jude nodded and stepped back into the kitchen before he made a bigger ass of himself by demanding to know who she’d been talking to. If she wanted him to know, she’d tell him.

  Apparently, she didn’t want him to know.

  Damn it.

  Methodically, he prepared their food while his brain shot in a thousand different directions. All thousand centering around the fact that Angela Greene might belong to another man.

  His heart said no, but his mind argued that it was possible. Women cheated all the time. None with him that he was aware of, but it happened all the time. Just look at Joy Long.

  If he really believed Angela was married, what did that make him? An adulterer?

  The term left a bitter taste in his mouth that threatened to kill his ravenous appetite.

  If he believed her an adultress, could he really let her stay the rest of the night?

  But he couldn’t wrap his mind aound her being married. It just didn’t fit. Or was that wishful thinking on his part?

  “Something smells good in here,” the object of his thoughts said, entering the kitchen with her arms wrapped around her chest.

  “I thought you were going to rest?” His question sounded stupid. It was stupid. No more so than the way he wanted to pull her in his arms and demand she tell him she was a free woman.

  What other explanation could there be? Thousands. Every bit as many as there were possibilities she was married. More.

  “I got lonely.” She lifted a shoulder in a soft shrug. The Braves never looked so good on him.

  Jude flipped the second omelet into a plate, turned off the stove eye, and eyed the still sizzling bacon.

  “I’ll always be here for you, Angel” he promised, knowing it was true, regardless of whatever fate threw at them. “You don’t ever have to be lonely. Not ever again.”

  Her hand went to her mouth, covering a small whimpering sound that made his insides raw. She was lonely. Whoever else might be in her life, he filled a need within her she wasn’t having met elsewhere.

  He couldn’t turn her away, not even if he tried.

  Their eyes met, held, and hers watered. He hadn’t meant to leave the food, but he pulled her into his arms and hugged her. Not a sexual hug, although that was always there between them, but a hug full of emotion and support and promises of better times ahead.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Always.”

  Perhaps as insane a vow as the one he’d made in regards to Marcus’ nonexistent sex life, but one he intended to keep just the same.

  “You shouldn’t say such things,” she whispered against his chest.

  “Why?” He wanted her to answer with the truth, with a real answer, instead she just shook her head.

  “Because you don’t mean it.”

  “Have I ever given you reason to believe I’m not a man of my word?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “But I’ve only known you for four days.”

  “Love isn’t measured by time.”

  “Don’t say that word.”

  “Why?” He pinned her beneath his gaze. “For the first time in my life, my chest is bursting with emotion.”

  “It’s impossible.”

  “What? That I care for you?”

  She nodded, but the stiffness in her body said there was more. More than just the impossibility of his feelings standing between them.

  “Whenever you’re ready to share your life with me, Angel, I’m here. Until then, we’ll take my feelings as fact since I’m not the one living a lie.”

  She jerked back from him. Her eyes blazed with green fire. “What did you say?”

  “That I’m here for you.”

  “Not that. The other.” Her tone was accusing and he wondered if he’d pushed too far.

  He sighed, cupped her jaw. “I’m not a fool. There’s more going on than meets the eye. Fine. I can live with that until you’re ready to open up to me, but don’t dismiss my feelings for you so easily, because that I won’t put up with.”

  She stared at him, awe in her eyes. Not once did she look as if she considered telling him what was really going on, but what he saw reassured him.

  Angela loved him and eventually all would be right between them.

  Chapter Fourteen

  BigBen didn’t sign on to Day of Reckoning until almost midnight. Randi had spent the last couple of hours trying to break into his system or to at least pull up some type of identifying information. To no avail.

  Which presented her with an entirely new kind of challenge. It had been a long time since she’d wanted in and not been able to hack her way into a system.

  Like since she was a snotty-nosed kid herself.

  Avery was wrong. This wasn’t some genius kid she was dealing with. BigBen was a man. She knew it deep within her gut.

  Why would a gamer need such a security system?

  Of course, her security system was just as impenetrable. Which was her point entirely. No ordinary Joe Blow needed the firewalls this guy had in place. Who was he?

  The way his player teased hers, the things he implied juiced her fruit and assured he was a man. She got the impression he enjoyed their online battles as much as she did.

  She’d created her cartoon-ish character semi in her image and programmed the image directly into the game, an option available to all players and one BigBen had also taken.

  She liked the way he looked and odds were since most people tended to choose hunkier versions of them selves, he resembled the ruggedly handsome character. Bulky build, dark hair and eyes. Skin tones were dark tan. Tall, dark, and dangerous. Just how she liked a man.

  Well, add naked and devoted to her and she’d be a happy woman.

  KissThis: What took you so long?

  BigBen: Work.

  KissThis: What kind of work?

  BigBen: None ya.

  Randi scowled. Of all the nerve.

  Not that they’d ever had a conversation of personal nature before, but tonight she wanted some clue as to who he was. She was willing to break outside their normal routine of flirting amongst kicking each other’s ass to find out.

  KissThis: Ready to get your ass kicked?

  BigBen: By who?

  Ooooh.

  KissThis: You know who.

  BigBen: I give you an “A” for effort, but we both know I’m better.

  Better? Like hell he was.

  An hour later, Randi found her player’s back against a corner, with BigBen breathing down her throat. He was at full strength. She was running low on time and energy.

  She readied her player and ran through her gaming options. Her only escape was through him, and he was too good a player to let that happen.

  Damn. He was going to beat her. Again.

  She hated to lose. Hated it with a passion.

  Only instead of taking his victory, his player did something impossible within the realms of the game.

  He grabbed her player and kissed her.

  Randi’s eyes widened, her mouth dropped, her nipples puckered and she almost came on the spot.

  He’d broken into Day of Reckoning and rewrote code. Rewrote the program to allow him to kiss her player.

  Damn, he was good.

  But better?

  Randi grinned and kneed BigBen in the groin, then slit his throat. Ah, apparently, he hadn’t thought of everything when he’d rewritten the program. Like that he should have disarmed the maiden he chose to smooch upon before slipping his tongue into her mouth.

  Not better, but damn he made her hot and bothered.

  Particularly since she’d just won.

  * * *

  A
very curled into the corner of the sofa and watched Jude finish off his eggs. Like everything else he did, her omelet had been perfect. Light, fluffy, and melt in your mouth good.

  Jude must have been even hungrier than her because he’d devoured a huge plateful of bacon, eggs, and cinnamon toast. He sat his empty plate onto the coffee table, then grinned.

  “Like what you see?”

  What woman wouldn’t? Jude was a hottie by any scale, but she suspected her attraction to him went much deeper than his ripped abdomen and baby blues. She shrugged. “Would I be here if I didn’t?”

  “You tell me.” His eyes blazed, challenging her to take up the dare in his words.

  Once again she got the impression he knew more about her than she thought. Was it possible Mandy said something to make him suspicious? Not that Mandy knew a thing about who Avery was, but Jude was a smart man. If Mandy mentioned hiring a revenge for hire service, Jude might have put two and two together and came up with one new temp.

  “No.” She didn’t elaborate, just drew her knees to her, enjoying how his eyes followed the way her shirt bunched at her hips. His shirt.

  “You’ll stay the night?”

  Avery’s eyes met his. Hadn’t they already discussed this? Well, not specifically. Her head told her to run while she could, but a stronger force demanded she savor every second she had with Jude. Tomorrow everything would change. Everything. “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “I want to wake up with you in my bed.”

  She didn’t smile, but her insides erupted with pleasure. Silly because he just wanted her for sex, despite what he said. Which was fine. That’s all she wanted him for, too. “Then I’ll stay.”

  “Tomorrow night?”

  Saliva pooled in her mouth but she refused to tell-tale swallow. Refused to dwell on the fact that tomorrow night she’d be in Nashville, not Manhattan.

  “I don’t make plans, Jude.”

  He looked intrigued. “No?”

  “No.”

  “Funny.” A low laugh sounded from his throat. “I had you pegged as someone who would plan every detail.” Which hit way too close to home. “Why not?”

  What could she say? Not the truth, that tomorrow his world would fall apart and she’d move on to the next mark. “There’s something to be said for living life day to day.”