Strike Zone (Hawk Elite Security Book 3)

by Beth Rhodes

  Or was he too interested?

  John squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable with the green-eyed monster. He definitely didn’t have any claim on Emily Rogers, even if he’d spent months looking for her and did recruit her. Didn’t matter that she’d spent all week talking one on one with everyone else. And that she’d yet to include him in the process.

  Marcus laughed at something she said.

  John checked his watch. It was only eight o’clock.

  “So you were the only one out there?” Craig asked, leaning in as well, taking in all her words, probably smelling her pretty perfume.

  Shut up.

  She nodded and tossed her hair back, and the strands landed on John’s arm.

  Holy moly, he needed to get out of here.

  “You okay, John?” Marcus asked, looking all concerned. But there was that knowing look in his eyes, too. As if he knew what John was suffering and liked seeing him uncomfortable.

  John scowled. “I should go.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Emily said as she pulled a napkin from her lap and set it on the table next to her empty plate.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he answered quickly. Just what he needed. To be the party pooper. Way to make an impression, John. “Stay. Enjoy yourself. It has been a long week.”

  “I’d rather enjoy myself with you, if you don’t mind.”

  His brain short-circuited. He cleared his throat, even as a sweet blush rose on her neck.

  Marcus snickered.

  “I mean—”

  “Don’t listen to him,” John reassured her, despite the fact that his brain had gone there as well. At least he wasn’t prickish enough to giggle like a schoolboy. “I know what you meant.”

  She stood and slung her purse over her head.

  “See you all at the gym tomorrow morning.” John lifted a hand in a wave before he put a hand at the small of her back and led her out.

  The air was crisp and the wind had picked up since their arrival. He zipped up his leather jacket. “So, tell me what you really think,” he told her. It felt like a dare. She’d been so polite since they’d gotten to Raleigh. Even a little standoffish. He wanted her to be comfortable, but even more than that, he wanted her to really like her job with Hawk Elite.

  And to like him.

  “Hawk is amazingly kind, and his wife is frickin’ kick-ass.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Marie likes to keep to herself, for the most part. But she’s new, like me, so we have that in common. And she’s good with her sidearm.”

  Funny, she was giving him an assessment.

  “But do you like them? Do you like the company?” He held his breath.

  She remained silent for a minute then stopped and turned to him when they got to the corner. “Too soon to tell.”

  “Better than a no.”

  Emily shook her head. “How about we make a deal?”

  “Okay.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You trust too easily.”

  “Come on,” he said, loving that she wanted to take make another deal.

  “If I get to the point where I don’t like it, you’ll be the first to know.”

  He tilted his head, watching that intelligent gaze. “I’d like that. As long as I get a chance to prove you wrong.”

  She shrugged. “So, everyone teases you. Calls you Father John. What’s that all about?”

  “Nothing—” When she looked at him skeptically, he added, “Good.”

  She laughed. “Okay. I get it. It’s a nickname, probably loosely based in truth. You’re not a priest, though, right?”

  “No,” he answered.

  “Well, that’s good.” They were standing outside headquarters, and the light above the door shone down on the sidewalk out front.

  He laughed. “Why?”

  John waited in that cold night air, somehow knowing that this moment could change him forever. What would she say? She studied him for a moment then lifted her hand to brush at the hair on his forehead. And then her lips were soft on his, coercing him into feeling the very things he fought—longing, lust, need. All week he’d forced himself to ignore his basic instinct. And now he knew. She was practically perfect. He hardly had to bend over at all. He closed his eyes and moaned softly when she pulled away.

  “I thought we should get that out of the way.”

  Out of the way? Her kiss would forever be in the way now.

  His phone rang, the sharp buzz from his pocket pulling him from his stupor. He fumbled and answered. “Hello?”

  “John?” Hawk said, as if he could hear the strain in John’s voice.

  John had no doubt he could.

  “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “I’ve—” Been kissed. No. That wouldn’t work. “Can I call you back? Emily and I were just…talking.”

  He dropped his phone back into his pocket and took a deep breath. “We should try that again. I could take a more active role. I wouldn’t want you to think that’s the best I can do.”

  She shook her head with a laugh. “Good night, John.”

  Emily Rogers.

  The Emily Rogers.

  Sitting in his car down the road from Hawk Elite, a man ran a shaky hand over his mouth. Had it been luck that brought the woman into his life right now? Hard to believe after everything had been working against him…

  Still, he had her, could snatch her up at almost any time.

  From the looks of that chaste kiss, he could probably convince her to do more than be snatched up. Father John must be more accurate than he thought. He’d have to think about that as he planned his next move, planned how he could capitalize on the juicy morsel of information.

  Research. He’d have to do a little digging.

  He needed money, the faster the better.

  And the woman who’d taken out more than ten people on the most-wanted lists within the agencies of the United States had to be worth something to somebody.

  Maybe it was time for him to find out how much.

  Chapter Five

  Emily Rogers had stepped in ankle-deep trouble, but she’d been wanting to kiss John Vega all week.

  And she’d made such a good effort to keep it casual, keep it from turning into a freaking slam fest…up against that glass door, her tongue in his mouth taking whatever she could. Now she sat on the back porch of the house behind headquarters. It was for temporary lodging and occasionally as a safe house. The two-story single-family home met her needs, for the most part. She’d have to find her own place eventually, if she decided to stay.

  Jamie, the one from Belize, was staying there as well.

  She liked him. He was…fatherly. Not that she would tell him that. But there was something jovial about him. Something that reminded her of the times she’d dreamt of a father who cared for her.

  Pushing against the smooth cement of the porch floor with her foot, Emily rocked the swing again and let her head fall back and her eyes close.

  She hadn’t expected how different working on a team like Hawk Elite would be from her past experiences. For some reason, she’d expected more suits, more cubicles, less friendliness. There was a definite feel of family at headquarters.

  She hadn’t really decided if this was a good thing or a bad.

  They all obviously worked well together, even when they didn’t one hundred percent see eye to eye. Like John and Marcus. They often butted heads, yet the core of what went on inside headquarters felt more like…something she’d never experienced.

  But it also made her wonder how they focused on a mission if lives were at stake. Were they able to do the job even if it meant losing a family member or a friend? Or did the mission come second to these close-knit relationships?

  She hadn’t figured that out yet.

  Jamie walked out the front door, greeted her, and handed over a beer. “Estás bien?”

  Emily shrugged. “Sure.” She scooted over and patted the swing. “Sit?”

  When he sat, the swing moved
, but the man had no problem relaxing, and she found herself doing the same. “So, you live in Belize most of the time?”

  “You’ll have to come down for a visit. Everyone does, eventually.”

  “I’d like that,” she said.

  A Jeep pulled around the corner, going too fast, and came to a screeching halt at the curb. Jamie stood and put himself in front of her. “Go inside and call John now,” he said, simple as he pleased, as if this was an everyday occurrence, and then walked off the porch.

  Her heart pounded. Something was wrong.

  She hurried up to her room to grab a gun first. Then she pulled out her phone and called John.

  “Hey, Emily. What’s up?” He sounded so chipper that she smiled.

  “Jamie wanted me to call. Somebody drove up to the house—sort of erratically, I might add—and Jamie stands, gets all stoic, and says, ‘Go call John.’ I’m headed back out—”

  “I’ll be there in eight minutes.” And he hung up on her.

  She looked at her phone and rolled her eyes. “Okay. See you in eight minutes.”

  Back downstairs, she engaged her firearm, pulling back on the slide, and approached the front door cautiously. Out the side-view window, a man stood on the porch with Jamie. He was a tall black man, wore a ball cap on his head and a threadbare tank top under an old Steelers jacket. But his eyes were off—too wide, too much white, and then the man leaned, almost falling off the top step.

  Drunk.

  Jamie stood taller and tensed, even as he kept up a steady flow of conversation.

  Emily pushed the door open, drawing the man’s attention to her. She nodded. “Howdy.”

  “Who the fuck is she?” His eyes went even wider, if that was possible.

  “A friend,” she answered as Jamie sidestepped and said, “None of your business when you’re in this state, Tyler,” at the same time.

  Tyler. A name for the face. She tucked her hand behind her back.

  “Go home. Sober up. You’re no good to anyone this way, especially your daughter.”

  John pulled up behind Tyler’s Jeep and was out of the car before it was even in park, probably. If Emily had thought of it, she probably wouldn’t have thought he was capable of moving that fast. “Hey, Williams. What’s up?”

  Tyler physically reacted to John’s presence, and she watched as he went from on edge to slightly relaxed and very weepy. “She called Child Protection Services, man,” he slurred. “Fucking bitch is keeping me from Jenny.”

  John sent Jamie a raised-eyebrow look, and Emily fingered the trigger before lightly setting it against the guard.

  “Drinking like this isn’t going to get you your daughter back, Tyler.”

  “It was only a few.” He sniffed. “I swear.”

  “Come on. I’ll drive you home. We can make a plan for what to do about Jenny.”

  “She’s not a fucking agenda, John.” Anger disguised the man’s hurt.

  “Of course not,” John reassured his friend, and, like Jamie, moved so he stood between Tyler and her.

  She rolled her eyes. She didn’t need a man’s protection.

  “We need to look at this like it’s an op. Like the old days, Tyler. You remember? We’ll get through this. Together.”

  “Whatever, man. The old days are what brought this on and made her hate me. I ain’t never going back.”

  “We’ll go forward then, Ty. You and me.” John kept his voice calm—convincing.

  “Okay. Can you come by my place tomorrow? I’ve got Jenny so the ex can work.”

  “Sure. I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

  “Good. Okay. That’s good. Thanks, man.” Seemed a miracle that this guy was calm and thinking rationally. But Emily tucked her handgun in at the back of her jeans…where she could reach it quickly, if necessary. John might be a nice guy, might have magic negotiating skills, but she wasn’t going to trust that this guy wasn’t going to lose it again.

  “I’ll take him home,” Jamie offered, tugging on the man’s sleeve.

  Tyler jerked free with a scowl, and Emily tensed.

  But he allowed himself to be led down to the road, where he got into John’s car on the passenger side. She breathed a sigh of relief and finally let her invisible guard down. “Okay. That was…exciting.”

  John laughed, rolling his eyes, and looked up at her.

  He made her heart pound, and she lost feeling in her fingers. Such a rookie move to be attracted and fall for this guy.

  It could only lead to trouble—for him.

  He looked up, really looked at her, and saw the jeans-hugging length of her legs. Her long blond hair up in a ponytail that reached her waist. She had a presence, an essence. Something that wrapped him in Emily.

  “Sorry about that. He’s been on edge for a few months now.”

  Emily invited him in with a wave and closed the door behind them. “Tell me about it.”

  John followed her to the kitchen, where she pulled two bottles of water from the fridge. He took one and sat at the kitchen table. “Tyler. He’s not usually so inebriated and reckless. It’s…woman problems.”

  Skepticism painted her pretty face. Geez, she was pretty. “His wife is the problem?”

  John cleared his throat and gave a harsh laugh. “Yeah, actually. They grew up together, you know? He joined the military, but they didn’t really last beyond the stress of deployments. They were young, though, you know?” He frowned, trying to explain without really knowing…what did he know about being married? “And I swear, he’s a good father and not—”

  He cut himself off. He was going to say “not a drunk.” But in the last month, he couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t seen Tyler without some kind of high going on. “I don’t know. The worst part about it?”

  She sat across from him on the booth side of the table against the wall then set her feet on the chair next to him as she shook her head. “What?”

  “He tried to make it work. Went to college. They had Jenny.”

  “Sounds like a good plan.”

  “It does, doesn’t it?” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Obviously, it took two to start that relationship and two to talk about who wanted what and when and how. And even more obviously, those two hadn’t. Tyler shouldn’t put the blame all on the wife. “She wanted a soldier. She wanted the Army Wives television show. I don’t know what the hell she wanted—”

  “But it wasn’t really Tyler.”

  “No.”

  “So, what’s going on now?”

  “I don’t know what happened to her. I met her before. I can’t say I like her, but she was a human being, right?” He shrugged, got up, and stuck the water bottle back in the fridge door for later. “Then she left and took Jenny, and ever since it’s been her pulling his strings. She’ll take Jenny off to God-knows-where for days and then drop her off at Tyler’s with no explanation, claiming she found a job. She wants full custody. He’s not sure she’s fit. Right now, I’m not sure either of them are fit. But I know—for a fact—that Tyler can be fit, if he would only get his head out of his ass. It’s kind of a mess. Wanna come with me tomorrow?” He laughed.

  “I’d love to come with you.” She sipped her water, never letting her gaze waver.

  There was only seriousness in her pretty hazel eyes, hazel with enough green to almost glow—and now he was being fanciful. “I was kidding. You don’t want to get involved—”

  “I’ll come with you, for you.” She stood and walked toward him. “His story makes me grateful I haven’t had to deal with family,” she admitted. “On the other hand, we did kiss…” She was standing right in front of him now. He backed up, but she moved forward, and John bumped into the counter behind him. “And now we work together. You seem like you could use the company. Moral support? How about plain old backup? I could back you up.”

  “I thought Tancredo was crazy,” he whispered, as his hands automatically went up to brush at the hair lying against her forehead. His
stomach tightened with desire and need as arousal coursed through him. “Maybe it’s true, though.”

  “What’s that?” she whispered.

  “We really don’t have any choice when attraction is going to track us down and shoot us between the eyes.”

  She grinned then leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

  Oh, shit. He pulled her close, closer, as close as he could get, because he knew this kiss was going to end, and when it did they wouldn’t be touching, wouldn’t be sharing something that made him feel so alive. He moaned into her mouth, and she opened to him.

  John nipped at her lips and wrestled the breath from her with his tongue. In an instant, he was hard against her abdomen and wanting more. “Jesus.” He broke free and rested his forehead against her. “Jesus.”

  It was like his only prayer, his only hope to stop from asking her to go to bed with him right this minute. What’s wrong with that? A voice in his head came through, strong and clear.

  His shaky hands brushed at hair that had escaped her ponytail, and all the lessons he’d learned as a young man—all the reasons he’d held himself in check until now—seemed to fly out the window. “Damn it.”

  She questioned him with a frown. He traced her furrowed brow with a finger and ran it down her cheeks as he sighed.

  How did you tell a woman like Emily Rogers that you’d been saving yourself for the one? He didn’t know. But he did know that saying something like that would probably send her running for the hills, so he smiled. “I love it if you came with me to Tyler’s.”

  She laughed, pressed herself against him, and pinched his side.

  “We should leave right now,” he insisted.

  “And sit outside until tomorrow morning?”

  “Better than being stuck in this house for the next eight hours.”

  “Aww.”

  “Yeah, shut up. I’m trying to be good.” And that was the trouble. For the first time in a long time, he actually wanted to be bad.

  “You could go home, you know.”