Nickel: A Romantic Suspense Novel (Blackwood Elements Book 9)

by Elise Noble

  “I didn’t realise—”

  “Zip it. Help Sloane to change her Facebook settings to private while I go visit Nate. Make sure you block that guy. And do me a favour and get me a double espresso.”

  “Asshole,” Leah muttered as he walked off.

  Normal service: resumed.

  Down in Nate’s basement lair, Logan steeled himself for an interrogation. His bullshit might fly with Leah, but Nate was a whole other story.

  As Logan swiped through the sliding door—bulletproof, of course—the acrid smell of propellant drifted out, followed by the soft pop of a silenced pistol. He meandered inside and found Nate pointing a .22 at a target on his private firing range. One of Blackwood’s four directors, Nate was a former member of SEAL Team Six as well as Logan’s old unit at the CIA. But despite being a master of modern warfare, he was most at home in his Batcave surrounded by gadgets and gizmos.

  “What are you testing?”

  “A smart pistol. It only fires if it’s in range of a paired RFID chip, and it can be disarmed completely by satellite if someone undesirable manages to steal both components.”

  “Need a guinea pig?”

  “Maybe in a week or two. I’m still refining the range. Is this a social visit, or did you want something?”

  Nate didn’t tolerate social visits very well, so Logan got straight to the point.

  “Sloane’s having man trouble.”

  “What, again?”

  “Yeah. Leah signed her up for online dating, and a whole bunch of kooks are coming out of the woodwork. She needs a security system that she can install in a rented house, and quickly.”

  “Why do you care?” Nate put the gun down and scowled at Logan, but he scowled at everyone so that didn’t mean much.

  “Someone has to.”

  “First the visit to pretty-boy’s apartment and now this? Is something going on between you two?”

  Fucking Nate. Why did he have to be so perceptive?

  “Why do you care?” Logan echoed Nate’s words back to him.

  “Because Sloane’s a damn good PA, and if you treat her like she’s disposable and she quits working here, Emmy’ll remove your balls and mount them on a dartboard to give Sloane as her leaving gift.”

  Blunt, but the man had a point. Logan glanced down as the boys shrivelled involuntarily.

  “I don’t plan on hurting her. In fact, I’m trying to do the opposite here. Can you help, or can’t you?”

  “Yeah, I’ll help. Just make sure you tread carefully. I say that as a friend and also as a man who hates sponging bloodstains out of carpet.”

  “I’m on fucking tiptoes.”

  At the end of the day, Logan waited until the office had cleared out before he approached Sloane. Leah rarely stayed late, but Sloane usually worked until at least seven. Some might think she was inefficient, but Logan knew from talking to Black that she often took on extra tasks to help others out. She had nothing to prove and no need to ingratiate herself with anybody, so Logan suspected her willingness to go above and beyond stemmed from an ingrained desire to make people happy combined with a reluctance to go home. When she was with Kenneth, that had been quite understandable because who would want to spend an evening with that prick? But now? Logan hated to think that Sloane was lonely.

  When the only people left on the third floor were the janitors and a small group of investigators huddled in a conference room, Logan sidled up to Sloane and dropped into Leah’s chair.

  “Almost done?”

  Sloane minimised the Kitty Delights website and blushed. “Just leaving. Uh, I’ve finished working, I was only—”

  “Doesn’t matter. Here, I’ve got something for you.”

  He wheeled the chair leftwards until he was positioned behind her and swept her silky hair to one side. She flinched and then shuddered, but she didn’t pull away as he’d feared she might.

  “What is it?”

  Logan didn’t answer, just fumbled with the tiny catch as he fastened the necklace around her neck, then resisted the urge to press his lips against her soft skin.

  Sloan reached up to feel the pendant, an abstract design of enamel swirls on a silver disc. Purple, blue, and red, the latter the colour of the plump lips Logan desperately wanted to kiss.

  “A necklace?” she asked. “You got me a necklace?”

  “It’s Nate’s handiwork. The middle circle’s a panic button. Press it, and the cavalry will come.”

  The Blackwood control room would send whoever was nearest, but Logan intended to lead the charge. Until he was satisfied that Sloane wasn’t in danger, he wouldn’t be travelling any farther away than absolutely necessary. The new guys could take some of the load at work. Logan wasn’t about to tell Sloane, but he planned to sleep on the sofa in Christian’s office at the Brotherhood, just in case. What was a backache compared to the possibility of Sloane getting hurt?

  “I don’t want to make work for anyone,” she said.

  “Nobody minds. And I’m escorting you home each day for the next few weeks.”

  Logan had expected Sloane to protest, but all he got was a soft, “Thank you.”

  Fuck, she was scared. Logan hated that she was scared, and even more, he hated the men who’d made her that way. Leah wasn’t in his good books either.

  Sloane packed up, and all too soon, Logan was sitting outside her house as she climbed out of her little Honda. He had to grip the steering wheel to stop himself from following her inside since he really didn’t have a good excuse for doing so. Not tonight. Not unless the cat decided to bring another mouse in. For a moment, Logan considered appropriating a rodent from somewhere and letting it go in Sloane’s house. In her bedroom, preferably. But he quickly shook his head, trying to clear that stupid thought. Had he lost his damn mind?

  Yes, to Sloane Mullins.

  As she walked up the path, all curvy ass and swishy hair, Aristotle’s words rang true in Logan’s ears: patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet.

  And he bet Sloane would taste delicious.

  CHAPTER 14 - LOGAN

  ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER hard run in the morning followed by three hours in the kill-house, a martial arts session, and more paperwork than Logan cared to think about. As soon as this final meeting wrapped up, he could get back to the important things in life, like talking to the woman who’d been occupying his every thought since he said goodbye to her last night.

  “Any volunteers for the Iraq trip?” Evan asked, looking straight at him.

  A month ago, Logan wouldn’t have hesitated to jump on the plane, but things had changed. Priorities, needs, wants… They’d all changed. Logan had spent his whole adult life on the job, but in the last few weeks, his world had shifted. Probably the planets had aligned or something, or at least, that’s what his youngest sister would say. Nicolette was into all that astrology mumbo jumbo.

  Evan was waiting for an answer, but before Logan could decline, Otto jumped in. Over the past year or so, Emmy and Black had begun bringing new blood into the Special Projects team, and he was one of the recent recruits. Four people so far—Cade, Slater, Otto, and Ryder—with the promise of more to come, and although it took effort to integrate the newcomers, they were needed. Every month, the workload got heavier, and none of the long-standing members of the team were getting any younger, Logan included.

  Perhaps that was what had escalated this obsession with Sloane? A desire to share the rest of his life with someone rather than going home alone or rolling out of some vacuous actress-slash-model’s bed at three in the morning in case she felt the need to discuss babies over breakfast. Yes, that had happened, and yes, his dick had stayed limp for three days afterwards.

  “I’ll take Iraq,” Otto said. “When do I leave?”

  “Tomorrow evening, flying out of Andrews Field.” Evan tapped at the screen on his tablet. “That’s it for the overseas requirements. Does anyone have any other business?”

  Logan let out a long breath of relief and shook his
head along with the others. He’d be staying in Virginia for at least another week, and now he could go and see Sloane.

  He found her sitting at her desk—no surprises there—and as he walked towards her, she smiled that insecure, flickery little smile he both loved and hated. Loved because it was cute, and hated because he wished she had more confidence in herself. Who had stolen that from her?

  “Ready to go?” he asked.

  “You’re going to see me home again?”

  “I said I would, didn’t I?”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  People had let her down in the past, hadn’t they? There and then, Logan vowed he wouldn’t be one of them.

  “Say hello to your new stalker, kitten. Until things settle down, I’m following you every evening, and if I can’t, I’ll ask one of the other guys to make sure you get home safely.”

  Damn, she looked adorable when she got flustered. Her cheeks pinked, and those full lips twitched. Logan pictured them kissing their way across his stomach, lower, lower, until they wrapped around his cock.

  “Logan? Are you okay?”

  Now it was his turn to go red. How long had he zoned out for? “Sorry, just thinking about tomorrow’s training exercise.”

  “Is it a hard one?”

  Not yet, but if he’d carried on daydreaming for one more minute… Shit. He needed to be more careful around Sloane.

  “Nothing too taxing.”

  “That’s good.” Sloane smiled again, wider this time. “I’m all finished here now. Are you done? If you’re not, it’s no problem to wait.”

  “Let’s go. I didn’t get groceries this week, so I’m gonna stop at the Brotherhood and pick up dinner. You want anything?”

  “I didn’t know they did takeout.”

  “They don’t.”

  She crinkled her nose, undecided. “Maybe. Uh…”

  “What?”

  “Will there be anywhere to park?”

  “For us, yes. There’s a staff lot around the back. Just follow me in.”

  When they got to the bar, Logan was tempted to push for a date of sorts, but then he remembered it was two-for-one cocktail day. The place was packed, there were no available tables, the waitresses were rushed off their feet, and conversation was impossible over the din.

  “Stick by me,” he half shouted in Sloane’s ear.

  She looked shell-shocked by the crowd, and he slid an arm around her waist to keep her close.

  Keep your hand off her ass, Barnes.

  He thought she’d break free as he opened the door to the staff area at the back, but she did the opposite, leaning into him as they walked to the kitchen. Perhaps they could keep walking? Out through the fire exit, along the street, into the park… They could find a quiet bench somewhere and spend an hour together, maybe two, just listening to the night and getting to know each other better. Would he get a slap if he tried it?

  “What can I get you?” the chef asked, breaking the moment.

  Sloane stepped sideways, and Logan cursed the man under his breath.

  “What do you want to eat, kitten?”

  “I guess I should have something healthy. Maybe a salad?”

  That’s what her mouth said, but the look of distaste on her face suggested otherwise.

  “Give us two fully loaded burgers to go, side orders of fries and onion rings. Put some lettuce on Sloane’s.” He tucked his arm around her again. “Come on, let’s get a drink while we wait.”

  “What if I wanted a proper salad?” she asked as he steered her along the hallway. “Lettuce doesn’t count.”

  “You didn’t want a salad.”

  Out at the bar, Logan waved at Christian, and a minute later, he came over with drinks—a small glass of white for Sloane and a beer for Logan. He took a mouthful while Sloane sipped. She was still tense as hell, and Logan wasn’t sure whether that was due to the number of people or the dating issues. Still, she was back by his side, right by his side, and he’d take any excuse to keep her there. Up close, she smelled sweet, citrusy, and he leaned in closer.

  Only for Christian to guffaw from three feet away. “Dude, did you just sniff her hair?”

  That asshole. Logan was gonna kill him.

  Sloane took a step back, brow knitted in confusion. “Is he talking to you, Logan?”

  Christian stayed just out of punching range and nodded. “The boy’s sprung.”

  “Sorry? I didn’t hear that.”

  Sloane went to move closer, but Logan pulled her back.

  “Ignore him. Christian’s the king of bullshit. You want to play pool?”

  “I’ve never played pool before.” She looked around, and her eyes lit up. “Can I pin a dollar on the money wall?”

  Christian held out a pen, laughing, and Logan snatched it off him.

  “Sure, kitten. I’ve got a whole bunch of dollars. Pin away.”

  Lucky escape.

  Logan and Sloane had finally left the Brotherhood, bags of lukewarm food in hand. He followed as she drove her Honda through the quiet streets, wondering how he could invite himself in. A search for possible intruders? No, he didn’t want to alarm her. A check for mice? That could work, although dinner would be stone cold by the time he’d looked through every kitchen cupboard.

  In the absence of a better plan, he would run with it. Sloane had a microwave, after all. But as they rounded the corner, fate finally threw him a bone, and he broke into a grin. Sloane did the opposite. Logan saw her mouth set into a flat line in the Honda’s rear-view mirror, and a second later, his phone buzzed.

  “Kenneth’s outside my house,” she hissed.

  “I noticed.”

  There was no missing the little prick’s cherry-red BMW with its W1NN3R vanity plate.

  “I’m going back to Blackwood. I’ll sleep in one of the pods.”

  The company had a dozen rooms available in case employees needed to stay overnight, and although they were perfectly comfortable and came fully stocked with bathroom shit, there was no way Sloane was sleeping in one.

  “No, you won’t. Park your car, and we’ll get rid of him.”

  “How?”

  Logan’s smile grew wider. “Trust me. Do you trust me?”

  She hung up without answering, but five seconds later, she pulled into her driveway. Yeah, she trusted him, and fuck if that didn’t make him feel good.

  Logan parked his truck behind Sloane’s vehicle and avoided the temptation to give Kenneth the finger as he hopped out of the driver’s side with his food. Sloane hesitated by her car, knuckles white as she gripped her own bag.

  “Now what?” she whispered.

  Fuck, that ass felt good under his hand. Soft, curvy, perfectly formed. He gave it a squeeze and Sloane made a little choking sound.

  “W-w-what are you doing?”

  “Showing Kenneth that you’re not his anymore. Play along.”

  That flickery little smile came back, and Sloane tentatively slid an arm around his waist.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind? Him thinking you’re with me, I mean?”

  Logan would quite happily stick a poster on every street light, then tattoo her name across his chest if it made her happy. Too much? Yeah, probably.

  “Give me your key.”

  Logan took her food so she could fish the key out of her shoulder bag, then guided her towards the front door. How much could he get away with? She hadn’t seemed upset over his hand positioning, so when they climbed up the front steps, he swung her around to face him, her back against the door.

  “Is Kenneth watching?” he asked.

  She stood on tiptoes, and her gaze flicked over Logan’s shoulder.

  “Yes, and he doesn’t look happy.”

  “Good.”

  Logan slotted the key into the lock, but he didn’t bother to warn Sloane before he lowered his lips to hers. She’d only have come up with some half-assed reason why it was a bad idea, whereas Logan thought it was the best idea he’d had all day. And beside
s, she kissed him back. Only for a second before her eyes widened and she gave the sweetest little gasp, but her first instinct was definitely to kiss him, and Logan was taking that as a win. Before she could say a word in front of Kenneth, Logan opened the door and lifted her inside, then slammed it behind him while she stared in shock.

  “What was that for?” she asked.

  “Just making things very clear for Kenneth.” Logan sauntered into the living room, trying not to smirk. The ex-dickhead was toast. “Shall we eat?”

  Sloane appeared in the doorway, gripping both sides of the doorjamb as she tried to string words into a sentence. Damn, that was fucking adorable.

  “What… But… The…” She lifted an arm, dropped it again. “You’re staying for dinner?”

  “If Kenneth’s hanging around, it would look odd if I left right away, don’t you think?”

  “I suppose.”

  “Sit down and pick out a movie, and I’ll get drinks and flatware.”

  “A movie?”

  “Unless you want to spend the evening in bed?”

  He was joking, mostly, but Sloane still had a coughing fit. Logan thumped her on the back, then helped her over to the sofa.

  “Easy, kitten. Just relax.”

  But she looked far from relaxed as he went to reheat the food. Had he overdone things? Sloane wasn’t like any other woman he’d been interested in, and he was still finding his footing around her. Flighty, nervous, and with such low self-esteem that he needed a backhoe to find it—what had made her that way?

  On the way back to the living room with the plates and glasses on a tray he’d spotted during the mouse escapade last week, Logan stopped to peer out the narrow window beside the front door, just in time to see Kenneth floor it away down the road. His flashy electric car didn’t even give the dickless wonder the satisfaction of a noisy getaway. Shame.

  “Did you find a movie?” he asked Sloane.

  She dropped her hand from her mouth and reached for the remote. “What? Uh, no, not yet. Did Kenneth leave?”

  Should he tell the truth and lose his excuse to stay? Or opt for a tiny fib and hope he could get to know Sloane better? Logan knew what a good guy would do, but even his own sisters thought he was an asshole most of the time. Might as well live up to his reputation.