by Marie Harte
They stood there staring at each other, and he couldn’t stop himself. He closed the awkward space between them, took her head in his hands, then kissed her. A gradual build-up to the lust remained, and fiery need threatened to consume him again.
He pulled back and wiped his thumb over her lower lip, pleased to see her shiver. But this time he remained in control.
“Not so cold now, am I?” he had to say.
She traced her lips with a finger and shook her head. “N-no.” Her eyes seemed nearly black, swallowed up by dilated pupils slaked with lust. “I, ah, I guess you should go.”
“I’ll be right next door if you need anything.” He stared at the robe, knowing now what she hid inside, and did his best to ignore the twitch between his legs.
“Anything, huh?” she answered, not sounding tart so much as worried.
He felt himself smiling. “Anything, Ms. Rose. Anything at all. I’m your man.”
Then he left, the taste of her lingering on his mouth, the musk of her still coating his skin. He smiled all the way home, even when Deacon handed him a smelly baby, swore, then darted out of the house.
Addy stared in shock at the closed door, still not sure how she’d had sex with her robotic neighbor. Best-sex-of-her-life sex with a cold, controlled man who rarely smiled. One minute she’d tried kissing him off, the next she’d been kissed breathless. Then screwed until she couldn’t think.
I let him come inside me. Warning bells, shrieks of disaster, lamentations of stupidity. She swore up and down and raced into the shower, scrubbing herself clean of everything but an unnerving need to see him again.
Good Lord, he’d been the most demanding lover. He’d taken her against her wall like a conquering raider, owning a pleasure slave who wanted nothing more than to—
“Wake up, Adeline! This is not one of your books!”
When even yelling at herself failed to keep her mind off reminders of Noel’s powerful pleasure, she forced herself to go to bed, not waking until the next morning.
The day passed in a blur. Her children were thankfully well-behaved and fun to work with until the bell rang at three-thirty. She watched them leave before cleaning up her room. Then she drove to a nearby coffee shop.
Addy ordered her favorite, a hazelnut latte, and sipped slowly, tucking into her jacket to preserve the heat.
“Hello? Earth to Addy.” Solene waved a hand in her face then sat at the picnic bench in front of the shop, sipping from her own covered drink. “Best cocoa in town.” She raised her cup to Addy’s, and they toasted the crisp fall air.
Solene watched her over the cup, saying nothing, a question in her eyes.
Addy couldn’t stand it. “I had sex last night.”
Solene didn’t blink.
“With a man. With Noel.”
Solene’s lips curled. “Good to know. I take it he knocked your socks off?”
Addy hid behind her hands while her friend laughed.
“Hey, sometimes we single ladies need human connection. No biggie, Addy, just—”
“We went at it like animals, and we forgot to use protection. So stupid,” Addy added in a low hiss.
Solene blinked. “Seriously? You could be the poster child for Trojan, Ms. Responsible Adult. He was that good?”
“He was amazing,” she whined. “And right after I’d called him a robot.”
“Oh, this I have to hear.”
Solene was the perfect venting partner. She listened, agreed with Addy, and offered compassion and understanding.
So why did Addy want to cry?
“I know I’m not going to get pregnant.” She kept trying to convince herself. “I’m regular as clockwork, and the timing was wrong for a baby. As scary as the aftermath was, I want to be with him again. And not just for sex. He has all these depths I’m just coming to understand.” And she’d called him a robot. “But I don’t even know if we’ll see each other again after that.”
Typical man, Noel had gone and ruined everything. Just when she’d figured to cut him out of her life and move on, he’d devastated her mind and body.
“Now that could get awkward, especially since you live right next door.”
Addy narrowed her eyes. “Are you laughing at me?”
Solene chuckled. “Only partly. You finally went for it and grabbed that tiger by his big?—little?—tail.”
“Huh?”
“More than six inches?”
“Solene.”
“That’s a yes, then.” Solene nodded. “You turn super red when you’re embarrassed, you know.”
“Shut up.”
“Look at it this way. I doubt Mr. Roboto is used to what happened with you guys either, not from how you described him. So maybe he’s as freaked out as you are.”
“I doubt it.”
“You don’t know. You need to talk to him. Just go next door and discuss things.”
“I can’t. He’s got company.”
“Chicken.”
“Bok bok.”
Solene shook her head. “You can handle a classroom full of rowdy nine-year-olds, but one guy scares you. Pathetic.”
“Why do I have to be the one to discuss it? Why can’t he come over and talk to me?”
“You’re reaching.”
Still, Addy liked that idea much better. She stuck to her guns throughout the evening into Wednesday after school. Noel hadn’t called or come over. So maybe their night had been a one-time thing? The thought depressed her, that he’d be like so many others. But she’d decided to stop being the one to run to him. If he was interested, he’d come to her.
Just before she readied to turn in for the night, someone knocked at the door.
She put on a robe and checked through the peephole. The sight of an annoyed Noel holding his—the—baby, amused her. She opened the door a crack. “Noel?”
“It’s not the mailman,” he grumbled. “Can I come in?”
“It’s late and”—he pushed his way in—“I guess you’re in. Seems to be a habit with you.”
He grunted, and she took that to mean any number of things.
“Well?”
“I tried to stay away and give you space, but then the kid keeps crying. Hammer took off and Deacon’s been busy. So it’s just me with the boy.”
“No name yet?” she asked, reaching for and taking the baby before she could stop herself. “Oh, you are so cute.” She snuggled him and breathed in the scent of innocence. “Is he dry?”
“What?” Noel appeared frazzled, and she loved that look on him.
“His diaper. Is it clean?”
“Oh. Yes. First thing I check before his royal highness started caterwauling.”
She blinked. “Caterwauling? You seriously just used that in a sentence?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been reading about the English monarchy. Some of the archaic language lingers.” He sighed. “I would have talked to you sooner but I’ve had my hands full. I’d like to go out again.”
She hugged Noel Jr.—as she liked to think of him—tighter. He grabbed her hair and cooed, no longer upset while she rocked him against her. “By go out, you mean…?”
To her delight, Noel flushed and shoved his hands in his pockets. He wore a dark green sweater and jeans that looked as if they’d been pressed. She had never, in the two years she’d known him, seen him in anything resembling slovenly attire.
“I mean you and I could go out to dinner again or see a movie. Maybe take a hike.”
“Oh.” She was disappointed and shouldn’t have been. But God, just thinking about how amazing he’d been woke her ovaries from their hibernation.
“I mean, sure, we could sex it up in a bed next time, but I thought you’d like to get to know me better first. You know, so that you feel better about being with such a cold, unemotional man,” h
e delivered in a remote voice.
“Ha ha.” At least, she thought he was joking.
The gleam in his dark brown eyes and slight quirk of his lips showed he was. “Or are you a fan of wall sex instead?”
She covered the baby’s ears. “Shh. He’s too little for this talk.”
Noel snorted. “Trust me, that kid’s no innocent. He’s shoved all sorts of things into his mouth all day. Including one of my favorite silk ties. He’s been pooping and crying all day long.”
For all Noel’s harsh words, he stroked the baby’s head with a tenderness that should have surprised her but didn’t. She noticed the calluses on his fingers, in particular on his middle and forefinger and thumb. From lifting weights, maybe?
He saw her regard and lifted his hand to her cheek, stroking her there and making her shiver with need. His gratified smirk embarrassed her.
She bit her lip. “You do like control, don’t you?”
“I do. I live for it.” He nodded. “And that person you’re holding is driving me to drink. How can someone that small be so dissatisfied with life? And by all that’s holy, how can he stink so badly?”
She laughed at his disgust. “He’s been with you for a few days now. This is news to you?”
“Deacon’s been handling him, mostly. But he had a project to deal with.”
“And Hammer took off,” she remembered.
“Right. Which leaves me, but I have to go into the city tomorrow on business.” He gave her a look she couldn’t decipher. “I’ll be done by Friday. Would you like to go out Friday night?”
She said nothing, just watched him.
“In Seattle? I thought we could see a show, if you like.”
“A show?”
“A local production of The Taming of the Shrew.”
Her insides warmed. “Oh, Shakespeare. That would be great.”
He paused. “I thought we could spend the evening in Seattle, return on Saturday. A hotel, my treat.”
She just looked at him.
He sighed. “Two beds, I promise.”
“Well, I don’t know.”
“Of course, if you don’t think you can control yourself around me, I can get us each our own room.”
“I can control myself.” She hoped. “The question is, can you?”
He took the baby back in his strong arms, and she saw little Noel Jr. curl trustingly into that broad chest. “I’m not the one who escalated that kiss.” He just had to remind her. “Or who put her hot little hands down my pants to grab my—”
“Okay,” she interrupted and ushered him toward the door. “Text me the details and I’ll see you Friday.”
“No kiss?” he teased, standing at the doorway.
She pecked him on the cheek, not trusting herself, no matter what she’d said, and gently shoved him over the threshold. She heard him laugh as he walked away.
Despite handing her the baby, he hadn’t asked her to help in any other way.
Addy grinned. “Solene, you owe me twenty bucks.”
Chapter Five
He read the report twice, just to be sure, and smiled.
He couldn’t have planned it better himself. All three of them together, stateside. Noel and his sentimental attachment to that house. It was a deathtrap waiting to happen. He knew it. Noel knew it. But the bastard didn’t think anyone could touch him, that because Big Joe liked him he was too fucking special to terminate.
As if the Business wouldn’t execute Cavanaugh on a whim. Big Joe was a real shit. If the guy liked you, you were golden. If not…
Hell, look at Angel. She’d worked her ass off. Done things he’d never have agreed to do. All for the greater good. And then, dropped. Executed for treason she hadn’t even committed. The poor bitch had managed to piss off one too many people, him included, but he’d at least have given her a proper send-off. But not the dickheads running the Business. They shot first and asked questions later.
Angel was just more proof that the Business needed new management. Someone with a long range plan who hired better middlemen than Big Joe. Borislav and Meridia were just as bad, but at least they didn’t feign respect. They plainly showed their fear and disgust on their faces. Or at least they had, until someone had gouged out their eyes and ripped out their tongues.
He grinned. Ah, but he was saving Big Joe for last. No sense in giving away the game too early to the ignorant players.
He read the report once more, then dialed a number on his phone.
His contact answered immediately. “Nine here.”
“Nine, put the others in place.”
“Roger that. Annette’s in play as well.”
“Good. Any word on Deacon Shaw?”
“Sorry, sir. We lost him somewhere at the airport. I’m still not sure how he ditched us. Malory was on him.”
And Malory was a god when it came to tails. A shadow for the Shadow, he thought with curbed amusement. The perfect foil to take out Deacon when the time came. “He’ll come back. I’m not worried.” But he was curious to know what the hell Deacon was up to. “Hammer still in place?”
“No.” A pause while he waited for Nine to continue. “He boarded a plane for Philadelphia last night. He touched down, caught a private transport and met with…well, we can’t be sure. But Annette thought she heard mention of Phantom in the area.”
“What?” That didn’t bode well. Phantom didn’t play nice with anyone, the government-sponsored Business or those in the private sector. An odd choice for a Boy Scout like Hammer to meet. “Dig into that, but do not, under any circumstances, let our involvement get back to Phantom. We don’t need that kind of trouble.” Not when his plans were coming together so perfectly.
“Yes, sir. Anything else?”
He thought about it. “Activate Wilkes and Rene. They’re a go.”
Nine chuckled. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s all.”
“Nine, out.” Nine disconnected.
He stared at his phone and clicked through to a photograph of Wilkes’s younger brother, Ted. He’d warned Wilkes that his brother wasn’t ready for their world, but Wilkes wouldn’t listen. As predicted, Noel had ended Ted’s short-lived life with little effort. And really, who used a cover that poor—a meth head mugging gone bad—and thought he could get away with it?
The only good thing to come from Ted’s demise was that Noel had his guard up. Caution made Ice even sharper than usual. Such fun and a true challenge to take the man out at the top of his game. But then, Noel deserved all the payback coming to him.
For Mexico—he’d never forget.
* * * * *
Thursday evening, Deacon eyed the droopy diaper on Noel Jr. and cringed. Where the hell was Hammer when it mattered? And why send the giant to gather information? If they needed intel, they used Deacon. They needed someone blown up, crushed to death, or out and out annihilated, they sent Hammer.
Or, more correctly, Hamilton Aston Montgomery III. Deacon grinned. What a pansy-ass name. Hammer hated it. Which made it so damn fun to use around the huge killer.
The baby babbled and started tugging at his full diaper, and Deacon swooped in and held the kid at arm’s length.
Apparently being dangled so high was fun, because the boy laughed and laughed while Deacon frantically sought the diaper bag. No joy. Where the hell did Noel put it? The kid tugged harder, so Deacon darted into the bathroom and set the toddler in the tub. And just in time, because that diaper fell off.
Jesus. Cursing Hammer and Noel to hell and back, he rushed to get a spare diaper and a box of wipes from the baby’s room. He heard a shriek and darted back into the bathroom. Just as the baby reached for the dangling washcloth turning the shower handle, Deacon put his body between the kid and the ice-fucking-cold water that followed.
He shut off the water, too late to save
himself, and stood the dirty baby in the tub while he wiped him clean with a washcloth. Then he dried the kid and held him in his arms, staring down at such innocence.
The baby babbled to himself, seeming pleased to be naked. Deacon sighed and sat on the toilet with the kid in his lap, lost in thought.
He wanted a beer. Freakin’ Noel and his inopportune meeting to get “information.” More like another shot inside his sexy neighbor’s pants. Finally, someone had melted Ice’s heart, but the timing couldn’t be worse. He’d seen Noel acting goofy, had talked to Hammer about it for some time. Meeting the gorgeous Adeline Rose in the flesh made some sense of Noel’s fixation. But did the guy’s crush need to blossom now, when Noel Jr. was in the middle of the runs?
Another God-awful second later, Deacon glanced down to see he should have made putting a new diaper on the kid a priority.
“God damn it!” He stood and held the boy at arm’s length. So of course the kid started crying. Deacon wanted to cry too. “This was a new pair of jeans. You could at least have the decency to make Deacon your first word.” The baby sobbed some more, until Deacon cradled his stinky ass tight.
The boy blinked big brown eyes at him and stopped crying, finally.
“Dea-con. Dea-con,” he repeated, doing his best not to gag at the stench coming from his now-ruined pants and shirt.
The baby stuttered what sounded like Dee-something. Twice.
Deacon stared. The baby suddenly discovered his toes.
Having learned his lesson, Deacon hurried to clean and diaper the kid. Then he stripped down, cleaned up, and fetched new clothes before he made a call.
Noel listened to the message with half an ear. Something about shit everywhere and the baby saying Deacon. Yeah, right. As if a four-month-old could communicate past grunts and coos. Though the thought of Deacon covered in poop made Noel smile.
He finished gassing up his car, then drove toward Fremont, where he had a meeting with one of Big Joe’s informants. He parked and walked across the street, only to hear the squeal of tires and the roar of a fast-moving car. He waited on the sidewalk, out of the way, for the street drama to unfold. But he saw no car chase or reason for the red Mustang to be driving so fast. Or to be veering toward him.