by Marie Harte
“So why the change now?”
Yeah, why? “Because I might be sticking around longer.” A truth he hadn’t wanted to admit, even to himself. The job was wearing on him. He found himself wanting to extend his stays at home more often than not.
“Oh.” She gave him a tentative smile. “Okay then. When did you want to go out?”
“How about tonight? Six-thirty? I’ll come over to your place and we can take my car into town.”
“Sure.” She smiled wider. “I’d better go. See you later.” She left before he could add anything.
Always quick on the exit, that woman.
He followed her out into the living room, only to watch the front door close behind her.
“So,” Deacon said.
“So,” Hammer repeated. “She’s got great…cookies.”
“I’m such a fan of her…chips,” Deacon added, trying not to laugh.
Noel glared. “You two are about as mature as a couple of fourth graders.” Like one of Addy’s students. He knew all about his neighbor, including the fact she didn’t do subterfuge. Addy was just as she appeared, an elementary school teacher, currently single, no pets. She relied on her friendship with Solene Hansen to fill her lonely nights, when she wasn’t having dinner—and nothing else—with Brent Morgan.
That prick.
“What’s the deal with the sexy neighbor?” Deacon wanted to know. “You sure as shit didn’t want me going out with her. But from what we know, you live like a monk.”
“Sad but true.” Hammer sighed. “Dude, get a life.”
“Firstly, don’t call me dude.”
Hammer cocked his head. “Firstly?”
“Secondly, I have a life. One devoted to my job, my passion for gardening—”
“Are you thirty or seventy?” Hammer guffawed. “Gardening? Like shoveling dirt over potatoes or dead bodies?” He laughed harder at his own joke. “The bodies I understand. I—”
“Gardening,” Noel reiterated, doing his best not to grab the Jericho hidden under the back of his sweater and shoot Hammer with it, “and—”
“Nights filled with research on your lovely single neighbor. Don’t ask.” Deacon held off the obvious question. “I hacked your computer. You are seriously stalking that woman, Noel.”
Noel felt his cheeks heat. “I am not. I just like to keep tabs on those around me. As a safety precaution. Tell me you don’t do the same.”
“Sure we do,” Hammer agreed. “But if my neighbor looked like her…” He thumbed at the doorway. “I’d have taken her out for dinner and a lot more from day one.”
“Some of us can keep it in our pants.” A burble caused them, as one, to look over at the baby now crawling toward them. “Then again,” Noel added, “some of us can’t.”
Deacon rolled his eyes. “He’s not mine.”
“Not mine either,” Hammer said.
“I know for a fact he’s not mine.” Not unless that gorgeous woman he’d met at that cantina in Mexico had been poking holes in his condoms when he hadn’t been looking. Not likely, considering Noel always kept track of his possessions.
“Sure thing, Noel.” Deacon didn’t sound as if he believed him. But that didn’t bother Noel, because he didn’t believe Deacon or Hammer either. “I still think we need to give the little guy a name.”
Hammer shook his head. “That’s the dad’s responsibility.”
“And the mom’s.” Noel took the locket from his pocket, the same locket he’d found in the baby’s duffle bag. Inside the locket, where he’d expected to see a picture of the mother or the baby, were a line of letters and numbers on one side and a name on the other. X6TFL and Angel. “Any luck on running this yet?” He held the locket toward Deacon.
Deacon sighed and picked up the baby tugging at his leg. “Nothing. I even hacked the Business files.” He held the kid like a football, and the baby grinned and waved an arm around. Deacon smiled down at him and continued, “Nothing there either, unless one of us slept with the notorious Angel and didn’t know it.”
Angel—one of the Business’s top contractors. Or what other people called assassins.
Hammer frowned. “No one’s ever seen her and lived to talk about it.” He paused with a look at Noel. “Then again, not many have ever seen Ice.” He turned to Deacon. “Or the Shadow and lived either. Well, except for the three of us and Big Joe.”
Every contractor who worked for the Business had a designation. Noel was Ice. Deacon, a thief, was appropriately named Shadow. And Hammer, no surprise, was the Destroyer. Hammer, Deacon and Noel knew each other from a few jobs they’d worked together, and they shared a common handler—Big Joe.
Angel had worked for the Business before she’d departed a few years ago. Big Joe had been her handler too. He’d once let slip that she’d done a few jobs for him before he’d taken on the firm’s most successful contractors—Ice, Shadow, and Destroyer.
Joe had also mentioned that she’d left, but not how she’d left. Business employees didn’t typically just up and quit. Noel had always assumed she’d been killed on the job.
But what if she hadn’t?
Hammer pressed the point home. “I did some digging yesterday. Rumor has it she’s not as gone as we once thought. Angel is alive and kicking. Or at least she was six months ago.”
“Could it really be that simple?” Noel wondered. “Angel is this kid’s mother?” According to the note, she didn’t plan to return. Ever. So the baby belonged to his father. Noel’s head buzzed with the questions constantly brewing.
“Why not?” Deacon said. “But I’m telling you right now. The woman I slept with in Mexico was no contract killer.”
Hammer seemed perturbed. “You sure about that?”
“Pretty sure.”
Noel nodded his agreement. “Yeah, me too.” The woman he’d slept with had been a seductive local. No Mata Hari in disguise.
But Deacon didn’t sound so positive, which made Noel think. If one of them had slept with Angel, would he have known? She would have appeared nonthreatening. Sweet, sexy, the perfect bed partner.
Shit.
And the plot thickened.
Chapter Three
Addy had thought for sure Noel would cancel their date. She half hoped he would. After all her good intentions to finally let him go and focus on finding a decent man to spend time with, one who would like her, for God’s sake, she’d agreed to go to dinner with him.
Solene thought it hilarious that Noel was playing to type and demanded her twenty dollars the moment the guy asked for babysitting services—no doubt during appetizers. But Solene didn’t seem to understand. Noel hadn’t and wouldn’t ask Addy for help with anything. When he’d asked her to dinner, the invitation had seemed to surprise him as much as it had her.
She didn’t think he was setting her up for anything tonight. No laying a grand seduction to get himself a full-time nanny. Solene didn’t agree, but then, Solene had trust issues.
“This is nice,” Addy said as they sat across from each other in Mermaid Kitchen, a new high-end restaurant just a short distance from the ferry. Small tables, each lit by candlelight, were adorned with a small bouquet of fresh flowers. The soft jazz playing overhead added to the low key yet no doubt high cost of the dining experience. All the wait staff wore black with aquamarine polo shirts, and they’d all memorized the menus, the wine menus, and could explain, down to the ingredient, what all went into the dishes.
Noel nodded. “I came here a few times this past summer for the food. They have nice quiet tables in the back.”
“Oh.” She liked to eat out, when she could afford to. This restaurant supposedly had terrific food but could be on the pricey side. Sadly, her recent spate of dates hadn’t been keen on forking out a lot of money if she hadn’t planned on sleeping with them up front.
I really do need
to find a better class of man to go out with.
Realizing that Noel didn’t necessarily fit that bill took some of the enjoyment out of the evening. She decided to treat this like an interview instead. With any luck she’d learn something about her mysterious neighbor.
After a moment of silence, Noel jumped into conversation. “You’ve lived here your whole life, right? Except for your time at college in Spokane.”
She blinked at him.
He shrugged and took a sip of water. “Your parents mentioned you once or twice. I was sad to see them go.”
“Probably because they never bothered you,” she said out loud when she’d meant to keep that to herself.
He gave her a rare grin, which lit up his brown eyes and turned them golden.
She blinked, her heart racing at the transition of coldly handsome Noel to warm, out-and-out gorgeous Noel. Amazing what a hint of humor could do for the man. She wanted to touch his mouth, to see what that smile felt like under her fingers. Or better yet, her lips.
Focus, Addy!
“Well, your mom and dad never made me any cookies,” he continued, “but your dad’s a hell of a gardener.”
She nodded, doing her best to regulate her pulse. “He brags about his cucumbers more than he does about me.” She smiled. “He and mom and are considering staying in Ballater, in Scotland. My grandmother, my mom’s mom, is from there. Plus, my dad is a golf nut, and they have a big time golf club there. Keeps him out of mom’s hair, and she can bond with Grandma again.” She paused. “What about you? Where’s your family?”
He was about to answer when the waiter arrived to take their order. After they selected their meals—he declined any alcohol, she noted while agreeing to a glass of wine—he answered, “My parents died when I was young. Car accident. I don’t have any relatives that I know of. It’s just me.”
“Oh.” She didn’t know what to say. That sounded awfully lonely. “What about Deacon and Hammer? Are they friends of yours?” Obviously, you idiot. Why else would they be at his home?
His lips pinched. “Friends? More like business acquaintances.”
The perfect segue. “Speaking of which, what exactly do you do for a living?”
“I’m in finance,” he said smoothly. “Deacon and Hammer are too.”
“Really? Hammer’s into finance?” She could see the suave Deacon talking people into investing in umbrellas for the Sahara. But Hammer? The man looked like his namesake. He was a giant mass of muscle and intimidation, even when smiling around a chocolate chip cookie.
“Hammer’s got surprising depths,” Noel deadpanned, and she grinned. “But what about you? You’re a teacher, right?”
“Yes.” She warmed up to the topic. “I teach fourth grade. My favorite subject is English, because I love watching young minds create. My kids are vivid storytellers, and any chance I can hook them on reading, I try.” She paused as the waiter brought them their first course then left. “Do you read much?”
“I like biographies and books on gardening.”
“I love fiction. Romance, horror, fantasy. Anything, really. I’m a book addict.” She scrunched her nose, hearing herself sound as boring as she was. “But I don’t just read. I like to do a lot of things.” Did breathing or eating count?
He watched her, and she wondered if he found her stimulating, or something to scrape off the bottom of his shoe. She just couldn’t tell. “What about you? What do you like to do for fun?”
He sighed. “I’m not that interesting, sadly. I don’t party at all hours. When I’m not working, I like to enjoy my downtime with peace and quiet. I’d as much read or garden as stare out at the water and watch the sun set.” He grimaced. “I’m told I sound like I’m seventy.”
She laughed at his pique. “You think that’s bad? The last guy I was dating dumped me because he said I acted like a grandma. I wanted to go out a few times and get to know him before I decided to sleep with him, and apparently that’s outdated.” Realizing she’d overshared, she blushed and hurried to add, “I’m not much better than you in the fun department, I guess. I told you I like to read, but I also paint watercolors and love to hike. I haven’t been to a bar or party since college. Not that adventurous for a twenty-six-year-old.”
He just looked at her, and all that concentration made her warm in funny places. “Twenty-six, huh?”
Now she felt defensive. “How old are you?”
Another grin. She felt giddy. “How old do you think I am?”
This time it was her turn to stare, but at least now she had a polite reason to do so. “Hmm. That’s a good question.” Black-brown hair cut short. A tanned face and hands, so he spent time outdoors. He had dark brown eyes that she’d describe more as rich earth than anything chocolatey. Nothing about Noel that would melt. He normally seemed like a block of ice.
Damn if she didn’t immediately start fantasizing about what he’d be like thawed out.
For all that he’d asked her out on a date, he hadn’t softened much thus far into their evening. If anything, with the exception of those few grins, he seemed even more on guard.
She took in the whole of him: that square jaw, lean cheeks, the rangy body honed by exercise. Not from a gym, she’d bet, but from doing actual work. Running or weight lifting to keep in shape, but not for looks. Vanity didn’t seem to fit Noel at all.
“Well?” he asked as the waiter dropped off the rest of their food and drinks.
He had to be a little bit older than her, but not by much. “Thirty-two?”
He smiled. “Not bad. At least you didn’t say fifty.”
“That would be ridiculous. I’d never go over forty-nine.”
He chuckled. An honest-to-God laugh. “I’m thirty years old. But my work in finance sometimes makes me feel older. So yeah, at least thirty-two.”
“Ha ha.” She smiled back at him. “Do I look twenty-six?”
“Now that’s an interesting question.”
Interesting? How about fascinating, mesmerizing, captivating? She looked edible. Like a sweet dessert he wanted to savor with each lick and nibble, until she was panting and crying out his name as he fucked her until neither of them could walk.
Once again, his thoughts descended to the carnal. Hell. The woman wasn’t even trying to get under his skin, and she had with ease. He didn’t understand it. He’d dealt with killers and seducers, women out to take him for his wallet, his money, for information. He’d been with true beauties, women with culture and genius IQs. Yet none of them had ever affected him like the woman sitting across from him now.
Noel had been attracted to Addy from the moment he’d met her. He liked her parents, and he didn’t like many people. The physical attraction made sense; she appealed to his ideal female aesthetic. But digging into her character and “stalking”—as Deacon had put it—for details about the woman had made him want to know so much more.
He’d been smart to keep his distance for so long, taking refuge in the fact he wanted only to be left alone. Because now that he’d taken her out, he was hooked. And Noel and normal didn’t mix. His kind of danger wouldn’t be good for a sweet woman like Addy.
Then again, there was no danger at home. He’d made it a safe zone. Here, he could play with what-ifs, if only in his mind. Talk about rationalizing, yet…
“What’s that look?” Addy asked.
“Hmm?”
“You look like you’re about to stab me with your knife.” She nodded to the steak knife he’d been gripping.
“Oh, sorry.” He came up with a fast excuse. “It’s just that I’m trying to say the right thing and not offend you. I have a bad habit of coming across as antisocial.”
“No, really?” she teased.
Her smile slayed him. Just…
He swallowed a sigh, feeling like a horny, lovesick fool. And wouldn’t Hammer and Deacon laugh thei
r asses off thinking of Noel pining over a woman way too nice for him? Damn. Time to sac up and stop thinking foolish thoughts.
Noel didn’t do romance or relationships. He occasionally had sex, though he’d never considered himself an excessively sexual man. For him it was a release when the job was getting to be too much. Not like Deacon. The guy would inhale, and on the exhale end up balls deep in a woman. Hell, he’d fucked half of Sicily on that one mission two years ago. The kid has to be his.
Noel, on the other hand, suppressed his desires the way he did most feeling in his life. Cold, barely there.
Ice.
He gave her a wry smile as he pulled back on his feelings. “See? It’s like you know me already.”
“I know nothing about you, except that you like gardening, have a baby you insist isn’t yours, and live in an amazing house.”
“It is something, isn’t it?” He took pride in that place, a home he’d bought and paid for with his own money. No handouts or charity, not since he’d turned fourteen and been recruited by the Business.
“But what about you, Noel?” She toyed with her shrimp. “What makes you tick?”
He cocked a brow. “My biological clock?”
“Very funny.” She made a face and ate in small bites. So delicate, so dainty while she shot him surreptitious glances. She was being very careful around him, and she set off his alarm bells.
“What?” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“You want to ask me something else. You might as well.”
“I’m that obvious?” She shrugged and sighed. “Fine. Not like we can keep dancing around the baby elephant in the room.”
He rolled his eyes. “The boy isn’t mine.”
“Really? He looks like you.”
“He looks like Hammer and Deacon too.”
She frowned, then her eyes widened. “Oh my gosh. You think one of them is the dad?” Then she gasped. “Did you all sleep with the same woman?” She gulped. “Together?”
He felt himself flushing, calling on his control as he grit his teeth. “For your information, I do not have sex in front of other people. I’m not into threesomes or foursomes, not into men, and I don’t have unprotected sex. Therefore, that baby cannot belong to me.”