Garrison's Creed (Titan)

by Cristin Harber

  “Princess, move your caboose,” Jared called from the hallway.

  Yeah, yeah. Coming. She followed his steps to the dining room, strangling both her hands around her coffee cup. No one would notice that they shook if she didn’t let go. Her adrenaline after the quick-flash Sugar-showdown needed to wear off.

  Cash stepped over the threshold. Sapphire eyes caressed her, and she vividly remembered clinging to him last night. The memory made her ache.

  “Nic, I need to talk to you for a sec—”

  “No, you don’t.” Jared put his box marked EXPLOSIVES on the fancy dining room table and pulled a switchblade from his waist. “My time, my agenda. And your mamsy-pansy baloney concerns come later.”

  For the first time, Nicola was glad for Jared’s interruptions. She had no interest in hearing the whos and whys and hows of Sugar and Cash. Even if Cash hadn’t known that Nicola was alive, he could at least have the decency to knock boots with someone a little less vamp-on-display. Though her belt buckle was kinda awesome. I wonder where she found that thing. Whatever. Sugar and her glammed-up face, super fun shirt, and awesome belt buckle could go somewhere else.

  Jared pulled out the brick of ammo and put it on the delicate lace tablecloth. He took out another box. What the—?

  “Jared. Stop. Right now.” She moved fast, almost dropping her coffee mug and pushing the man over.

  “Princess, what the hell?”

  Nicola picked up the box, examined it, then unpacked each small box from the larger one.

  Jared tried to take the one in her hands. “Get off my—”

  “Jared, shut up.” If this hadn’t been a big what-the-hell moment, she might’ve looked up to see how Twinkle Toes reacted to such an order. But nope. She was dizzy with questions.

  She popped open the box top and rolled out the large round. Blue tipped with a fleck of red. Incendiary and armor piercing, just as requested. Matching the mark on the boxes, there were the micro-engraved letters ‘AS’ on the bottom of the round.

  That egocentric jerk.

  “Where did—” Nicola smirked “—Sugar get this?”

  Jared made a move for the ammo again. “I don’t ask questions. I didn’t even call her.”

  Cash spoke up. “Winters called her.”

  She pointed to the base of the round, ignored Cash, and handed the bullet to Jared. “AS. Antilla Smooth. This is his product. He likes to use his initials for his watermark. Your girl buys from a nasty, illegal arms dealer.”

  “She’s legit.” Cash stepped forward to defend that woman.

  Freakin’ awesome. “Yeah, she totally looks it.”

  Jared nudged Cash back. “I’m not going to separate you two, and you’re still working together. So deal. Now.”

  They both murmured about nothing to get over. The tension in this room would choke a horse.

  Jared gathered the small boxes and dumped them into the bigger one. “I have to roll out. What’s here is here. I suggest the two of you find some way to work together with your clothes on, and move forward on the butler. Do your jobs.”

  He grabbed his EXPLOSIVES box and stormed out. Jared didn’t really walk into or out of a room. He didn’t amble or dawdle. The man stormed and marched, always with gray clouds in his eyes.

  Cash stared at her. “Nic—”

  “I don’t want to hear it. I’m here to do a job.” She picked up her coffee mug, needing something for her hands.

  “That’s it. A job? You see one thing from my past and you’re don—”

  She blew out a breath. “Excuse me. I have to make a call.”

  “To who?”

  “Not your problem.”

  “Cut the attitude. We’re partnering on this, so it is.”

  “I’m calling my handler. She needs to know Smooth hardware is popping up in Virginia.”

  “Mind focusing on one job a time?”

  She held up a finger. “One phone call. One minute.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Nicola walked to a window, and Cash stepped out of the dining room. Breathing got easier the farther he was away from her. Dialing a secure number, Nicola waited until Beth answered.

  “How goes the sleepover?” Beth’s curiosity made Nic’s stomach turn.

  “It went, and it was a mistake. And, nope, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You did bring something lacy!”

  “Seriously, Beth. He’s got a girl. Kinda. I think. And I met her.” She shook away the image of Sugar wrapping her body around Cash. “And that’s why I’m calling.”

  “No, babe. We’re not putting out a hit on the girl. Girlfriend or not. Sorry.”

  Wouldn’t that be nice? “I just saw ammo from our favorite deceased gun dealer. Did you have any idea he had networks in this area? Sellers?”

  “Nope.”

  She sipped her lukewarm coffee, thinking out the next move. “We need to meet.”

  “You’re working with Titan. I’m hands off until further notice.”

  “What if I promise to kiss and tell?”

  “Would you?” There was a pause, and she could feel Beth weighing the pros and cons of the dirty details. “Then yes. I’m there.”

  “Meet me for lunch in Tyson’s Corner in an hour.”

  “Done.”

  She clicked off the phone and went to find Cash. How did she end up at the Titan retreat without a ride? One mistake after another.

  Clearing her throat, she grabbed his attention. “Cash, I need to borrow your truck.”

  He laughed. “Try again.”

  She turned toward Roman. His brow furrowed. “Don’t even think about asking. I’m not getting into it with either of you.”

  Shit. It’s not like a taxi was going to pick her up in where-ever-the-hell-Virginia. “Damn it, Cash.”

  He smiled, knowing he was her only option, and she hated it. “I’ll drive ya. Where we going, Nic?”

  If he would hand over the damn keys, everything would go easier. Maybe she could find them in his room. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

  “Yeah, guess that’s true. I stay. You stay. We all get to stay.” He flopped on the couch next to Rocco, who was watching the latest installment of their drama. “If you change your mind, I’ll be here.” He turned to Roman. “Hey, man. Throw me another biscuit.”

  Roman chucked the biscuit across the room, and out of nowhere, Winters’s dog nabbed it mid-flight. Roman tried again, successfully.

  How did anyone put up with these men? Her foot tapped, and her mind ran the gamut of getaway vehicles, but she turned up nothing. Damn Cash.

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  “While I drive, I’ll explain Sugar, and you’ll listen.” He didn’t look at her. His voice was even and bored. Rocco, on the other hand, wasn’t bored, and Cash didn’t look at the man’s head slinging back and forth between them. “Those are my terms. Take it or leave it. But I don’t think you’ll find someone willing to risk their life and give you a ride.”

  Risk their life? Come on, Cash!

  She dropped her head back and huffed. Mark today down as the most unprofessional day of her life. “Fine.”

  “Fine.”

  Rocco laughed. “You two are great. When are you coming back?”

  “Shut it, Roc.” Roman didn’t like the theatrics at all. Nic didn’t either. Maybe it was a family thing.

  ***

  Trapped again in his truck with Nicola proved to be much different from the night before. There wasn’t that would-they-wouldn’t-they vibe.

  Nope.

  Now it was nothing but hold-your-breath-and-hang-on kind of tension, and it still made him want to beat his head against the steering wheel.

  “Where to, Nic?”

  “Tyson’s Corner.”

  “Got it.” He rolled out of Winters’s driveway. “Sugar. Let’s just get that over with.”

  “I don’t care.” She shrugged and tugged at her hair.

  “Pretty sure you do.” A pis
sed-off Nicola was cute. The madder, the cuter. Bet she’d get furious if he told her as much. “There’s nothing to be jealous—”

  “Are you kidding me? Jealous? Hardly.” She scooted farther away and leaned against her door. “That’s ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. Sugar, for that matter, is ten shades past ridiculous.”

  Silence except for the click-cl-click, click-cl-click of the blinker when he changed lanes. Everyone was ridiculous? She might as well have a banner proclaiming the same thing about herself.

  “The lady doth protest too much.”

  Nicola smirked. “She’s quite the girl, that Sugar. Your type is so… slutty.”

  You know what? Enough with this.

  He pulled over. Hard. Dirt and gravel spun cycles in the wheel wells. The truck rocked over a bump on the shoulder.

  “Why are you so mad? I didn’t know you were alive! Fuck.” He unsnapped his seatbelt and turned, hand gestures flying. “It wasn’t serious, so what’s your problem?”

  Nicola didn’t answer. Her fingers drummed on her thigh.

  “Nicola, what do you want from me?”

  She didn’t turn to look him in the eye. “She’s re-selling from an illegal arms dealer.”

  He shrugged. “We don’t know what’s going on there. And that’s not your problem, is it?”

  Now she pinned him with a glare. “She’s a slut.”

  “She’s a cool chick and not a girlfriend. Not relationship material. Not that I wanted a relationship with anyone. She’s a flirt. And I am—was—whatever—by myself. She didn’t want anything other than to shoot guns and… it worked out.”

  “Sure seemed into a relationship with you this morning.”

  “I didn’t say Sugar wasn’t competitive.”

  Nicola snorted. “Ha. Competitive.”

  He grabbed the gearshift but didn’t take it out of park. They should hit the road. Sitting here wasn’t doing either of them a lick of good. “I’m sure you’ve been the poster child for abstinence over the last decade.”

  She rolled her eyes, but stayed quiet.

  “I didn’t take you for a quitter, sweet girl.”

  Her face screwed up tightly. “I’m not a quitter.”

  “But you can walk away from us again?”

  “There is no you and me, Cash. It was an old habit.”

  “Bull-fuckin’-shit.”

  “You’re—”

  His lips covered hers. How he crossed the space, he had no recollection. The only thing he knew was she smelled sweet, tasted sweeter, and kissing her was the only thing he’d wanted to do since Sugar walked into the room.

  Her smartass remark morphed into a kiss. It melted against him, then roared to life. The air sizzled and popped. Her hands wrapped into his shirt. Yeah, there was no easy walking away. There was a spark. Hell, more than a spark. It was a smoldering ember that had blazed unattended and ignored. With a gust of wind, a sweet kiss, a hot night in bed—whoosh—they had wildfire. And he wanted to chase it down to see how hot it could be.

  Her tongue teased his. Firecrackers spun and sparkled, rocketing his body to life. His fingers threaded into her hair, and he lost focus. He wanted to growl the goddamn truth to Nic. Until they weren’t, they were together. He wanted to—a car flew by too flipping close to his truck, honking a horn.

  Whoa. He had to calm this down. They were on the side of the road, for chrissake.

  Her lips slowed to brush his. “Maybe I was a little jealous.”

  Cash chuckled. “I want to take out any man who’s ever thought of you naked, much less seen you, if that helps.”

  He inched back to his seat, studying her warm eyes and the way her flushed cheeks screamed that she wanted more than their roadside make-out. Both of his hands were needed on the steering wheel, or they’d never make it back onto the road. He took a deep breath. Her breath mirrored his from the passenger seat. Their matching cadence slowed to normal. He didn’t know about Nic, but he was always catching his breath when she was around.

  “Sugar shouldn’t have that ammo.” Nicola rearranged her seatbelt.

  Nope, she was always thinking about the job around him. That’s just marvelous. Someone out there would commend her. He’d rather she stayed hot and bothered and thinking of him, but that’d make the meeting with her handler a-w-k-w-a-r-d.

  “She shouldn’t. I know. But she’s on the up and up, so there’s something more to it.” Cash sighed, sitting up and shifting into drive. “Looks like you and Sugar are headed for a sit down. I’ll referee.”

  “Let’s bring Rocco too. At this point, I think he’d be upset if he couldn’t watch.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The sun was blinding bright. Nicola shuffled through her purse for her sunglasses. They were in a little Coach case that matched her little Coach purse. Maybe camouflaged was a better word than matched because she couldn’t find the flippin’ thing.

  Cash walked through the parking lot with her. She wasn’t sure what he was going to do. He didn’t seem like the wander-around-the-mall type, but he’d insisted on driving, so he was stuck there. His activities for the next hour or so weren’t her problem. Where were her sunglasses?

  “Looking for these?”

  “Yes!” She reached for them, and he held them high overhead. She jumped but still couldn’t reach them. “Please. Give them to me.”

  “Are you still worked up about everything?”

  “No.” She jumped again. “Damn it, Cash. Give them to me already.”

  “I don’t believe you.” But he lowered the case to a snagging height. Jumping up again, she was almost nose to nose with him. His peppery scent flooded her senses, reviving memories of him in bed. Everything paused, and then her hand felt the fabric case, and life sped back up again.

  “Why do you have my stuff?” This wasn’t at all what she was worked up over.

  “It just fell out of that black hole draped over your shoulder.”

  Why was she so nervous and twitchy? Oh yeah, because unless Cash found somewhere to wander off to, she was going to have to make introductions. There was no telling what would come out of Beth’s mouth, especially after Nicola’d mentioned on the phone that Cash maybe had a girlfriend. And how Nicola had maybe shown off the little lacy number.

  Beth waved at her from the patio at P.F. Chang’s. Nicola’s fingers tapped along with the nervous drumbeat in her head. Fifty yards and closing in on Question-Mageddon. Instead of a world-ending battle, Nicola expected an interrogation worthy of drop-dead-embarrassment. Or defensiveness. Hell, probably both.

  Waving back to Beth, Nic turned to Cash and gave him a thanks-for-the-ride-see-you-later smile. He cheesed it back and stuck with her.

  Twenty-five yards out.

  She could ditch him. She had to. Beth had a cocktail in her hand. Cash had to go elsewhere, pronto. There was no telling if this was Beth’s first or third, and after their thirsty throw down at her apartment, it didn’t matter if it was only the first drink. The woman was primed to pry. Maybe she’d just push Cash and run.

  “Cash, we’re going to talk about girl stuff.” He kept the slow pace, not moving from her side, and looking totally aware she wanted him gone like last week’s garbage. “Like tampons and Spanx. You want nothing—”

  “Girl, if you were into getting spanked, all you had to do was—”

  “Spanx. Spay-nhxx. With an X. They’re undergarments. Tummy suckers. Fat smoothers.”

  “None of which you have. That’ll be a quick convo. Besides, I met Beth for a second at the Farm. She seemed like fun.”

  Fun? Try ready to incite a social disaster. “We have important personal stuff to talk about, and you’re not invited.”

  “You’re going to talk bedrooms and the Bullet? Or is that the Rabbit? I can never keep up with you girls and your toys.”

  “Cash,” she hissed, abandoning the slow crawl and daring him to keep pace with her Olympic-speed race walk.

  His long legs ate asphalt, easily keeping up
with a casual amble. Ten yards out, and she hadn’t scared Cash away yet.

  Shit.

  With an abrupt stop, Nicola turned to him. Maybe boring him away would work. “And recipes for gluten-free quiche. We’re going to swap cooking tips. I recently learned how to poach an egg.”

  “I’m hanging out so you can’t poison her opinion of me.” Cash grabbed Nic’s hand and swiped it to his mouth for a quick kiss. Oh, he was making a point, and knew damn well she wanted to dish on the Sugar incident. The guy should go into politics if he ever stepped away from the bam-bam-you’re-dead business. He had a knack for putting on a show.

  “Oh, you think you are so cute.”

  “That I do, sweet girl. That I do.”

  Ground zero. They were here. Beth stood, smiling, definitely on her second Sichuan Mary, Bloody Mary’s pepper and spice cousin. Cash leaned over and kissed Nic’s cheek. Damn him, he did that on purpose. Beth all but squeed.

  Eh, maybe Nic did an inner squee too. When a man who caught everyone’s attention passed out kisses, those kisses generally earned tummy flips. When those tummy-flipping kisses were accompanied by a grasp around the waist like he was doing now, they were bound to create moments of flash-bang paralysis.

  A light breeze caught Cash’s blond hair, ruffling it with an airy kiss and teasing her with the lavender smell of her shampoo. Hmm. Showering with Cash. It almost made her forget where they were and what they were doing.

  The sound of a metal chair scraping on the patio brought her back to reality. Beth was all lip gloss and giggles. Great. That had to be her second drink.

  “Beth, this is—”

  “We’ve met.” Cash leaned in to give Beth a hug.

  Beth definitely squeed this time. Fabulous.

  “I’m going to need a cocktail.” Nicola looked for the nearest waitress and the specialty drink menu. “Something with a little kick—”

  “I already ordered you a Twisted Whiskey Sour.” Beth looked at her, then at Cash, and back to the drink menu she clutched. Concentrating, she studied it then glanced back at the towering man. “I’ll order you a Warrior Smash. Sounds like it’d work for you.”