“Would you like to get some coffee and talk about him?”
She appreciated that Crystal didn’t offer her empty platitudes or sympathies. She was so tired of hearing, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Crystal didn’t even ask if she wanted to talk about it—about his death or her loss—she asked if Addison wanted to talk about him.
Oddly, she did. She wanted to tell someone about her brother who hadn’t known him as a SEAL or a military hero. She wanted to share all the silly fights they’d had growing up and the time she’d busted him making out with his first real date.
“Yeah, I would.” She ruffled the puppy’s floppy ears. “We should see if we can find her owner first.”
Chapter 6
Devon paced in the foyer of TLC, waiting for Addison to arrive. He’d stopped at her hotel the night before to see if she wanted to get dinner, but the older woman at the desk had told him Addison was out. No where. No with whom. No idea when she’d return, just that she’d left carrying a yoga mat. He wasn’t sure if she really didn’t know or if she didn’t want to tell a strange man where her female guest had gone.
There were six yoga studios in downtown Charleston, and he’d thought about going by every single one to find her. He managed to stuff his crazy down long enough to realize there was no guarantee she’d even gone to a studio, and wandering around Charleston looking for a woman carrying a yoga mat was over-the-top psycho. Figuring a yoga class couldn’t be more than an hour, he’d asked if it would be okay for him to wait for her return. The woman told him to knock himself out, so he had.
For two hours. Then another twenty minutes, because he appeared to have masochistic tendencies, before finally giving up and leaving.
Graham had sent out a group text for an eight a.m. meeting, which Addison had been part of, so here he waited. The longer he waited, the more amped up he became.
“Son, you’re going to wear a hole in that tile, if you don’t calm down.”
Devon glanced at Graham Senior, sitting behind the huge reception and security desk, sipping coffee from a mug that read, “Every Day I’m Sparkling.”
“’Bout time for a mustache trim, isn’t it?” he asked.
Senior lowered his mug and brushed the edge of his mustache with his hand. “If I trim it, I can’t filter out the grounds of my coffee, now can I?”
He shook his head. “How come you didn’t give any hair to Aiden?”
“You’ll have to talk to his mama about that.” He ran a hand through his thick, gray hair. “Her daddy’s as bald as a newborn. Aiden’d have some hair if he didn’t shave it so close.”
“Yeah, but then he’d look like George Costanza,” Devon said.
“Who’s that? New recruit?”
Before he could explain the character reference, the front door swung open and Addison strolled through, a tote bag slung over one arm and a to-go coffee cup in the other hand. “Morning.”
“Where were you last night?” he asked. It sounded harsh even to his own ears.
Judging by the way her eyes widened and then narrowed, it sounded harsh to her, too. “Excuse me?”
“I stopped by to see how you were doing and whether you wanted to go to dinner, but you weren’t there,” he said.
“I went to yoga.”
“For three hours?”
She shifted her weight, placing it all on one leg, which cocked out a nicely rounded hip. “I went for coffee with the instructor after dinner. Is there a problem?”
He knew—knew—he shouldn’t answer that question, but he was apparently too intent on digging this hole. “We need to have our heads in the game, not be going on dates with yoga instructors.”
Her eyebrows rose, and she pursed her lips, shooting a look at Senior before turning back to him. “Well, she realized I was upset and offered me a sympathetic shoulder. I didn’t realize making friends and having coffee wasn’t allowed. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
She strode past him, her long legs eating up the distance, before disappearing down the hall.
“Damn it,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair. He deserved the attitude she’d thrown him.
“You’re not a bright one, are you?” Senior asked.
Devon sent him a self-deprecating look. “Not one of my best moments.”
“That the way you meant it to go?”
“Of course not.”
“Better go fix it.” Senior pointed toward the hall with his coffee mug.
“Yeah.” Fuck, he was a dumbass.
Jogging down the hall, he turned the corner just as Addison turned into the conference room. “Shit,” he muttered.
He slowed and walked in right behind her. “Addison,” he said.
“Oh my God! Is that a puppy?” Angie pushed around Jeremy and rushed toward Addison, her hands outstretched, her focus on the large tote hooked over Addison’s elbow.
Angie pulled the small dog from the bag and raised it above her head before cuddling it close. “You are so precious! Where did you get her?”
He’d been so intent on sticking his foot in his mouth he hadn’t even noticed the dog’s head sticking out of Addison’s bag.
“She found me in the park yesterday during yoga. I tried looking for her owner, but no one claimed her, and the vet I took her to couldn’t find a microchip. I didn’t want to take her to the pound, but I’m not sure what to do with her.”
Angie’s eyes widened. “I’ll take her!”
Addison shook her head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not asking—I’m offering. I’ve been thinking about getting a dog for a while, but all the ones I’ve found have been big dogs and I can’t have a big dog in my apartment, and she’s so tiny. Just look at her.”
He loved Ange like a sister, even though she scared him sometimes with how smart she was, but her timing was shit. The meeting wasn’t for another five minutes. He needed those five minutes to fix his fuck-up.
Angie pressed kisses to the puppy’s ear. “Do you know what kind of dog she is?”
“The vet thinks beagle mix. Maybe chihuahua,” Addison said. “He said she shouldn’t get very large and that I could bring her back if I had to.”
“No!” Angie pressed the puppy’s head to her chest. “You can’t take her back! She’s Leonidas now. We don’t give people back.” She turned back to the puppy. “No, we don’t. You’re one of us now. Yes, you are. Yes, you are.”
“Angela, what are you doing?”
They all turned to find Graham and Paige behind them.
“Isn’t she precious? I’m going to name her Princess. My sweet, precious Princess.”
Graham ran a hand down his face and through his beard. “You’re cleaning up after her. Can we get started?”
“Oh! Right! Yeah.” Angie handed the dog back to Addison and moved to the computer at the front of the room, shaking the mouse to wake up the computer.
Devon waited until Addison took a seat then sat in the one next to her, farther away from Angie and the screen. That way he could look at her without making it too obvious.
“Okay. I spent a lot of time on the dark web last night. Way more time than I ever want to spend there, for the record, but I found the information for the auction,” Angie said. “It’s happening eight days from today.”
“Where?” Addison asked. “How do we stop it?”
“We…can’t,” Angie said. “The auction is invite-only, and even then, it’s pay-to-play. Fifty thousand dollars, just to RSVP in the affirmative. No other information is passed until the money is paid.”
Devon could only see Addison’s profile, but he saw her eyes close and the small shake of her head.
“Even if I cashed out my retirement fund, I don’t have that much money sitting around,” she said.
“TLC will cover it. Along with the cost of operation,” Graham said.
Devon sucked in a breath between his teeth. That wasn’t chump change. Even with the extremely lucrativ
e contract TLC had recently been awarded, the company would take a hit.
“I can’t let you do that,” Addison said.
“The Drakes put down a retainer when they hired us to find their son. It’s not going to cover the entire cost, but it covers a good portion of it,” Paige said.
“Then I’ll match their retainer,” Addison said. “It’s only fair—we’re getting Braedon out along with their son, so I’ll pay whatever they’re paying.”
Paige and Graham exchanged glances. “All right,” Paige said. “I’ll draw up a contract, and we’ll go over it this afternoon.”
Addison nodded. “Okay.”
“There’s still the issue of it being invite-only,” Angie said, wringing her hands and wincing. “I can’t find anything on what format the invite is in to recreate it.”
“Think Shady can get us an invite?” Graham asked Paige.
“I’ll call her as soon as we’re done here.”
“What else do you know about the auction?” Devon asked.
“It’s women buyers only. Men can attend as companions, but only women can bid during the auction, and they’re only allowed to bring one male companion for either security or…other things. I found a couple of discussions about who was taking who in what capacity.” Angie paused and grimaced. “There were pictures. I need eye bleach.”
“The women-only thing is going to be an issue if we’re able to get someone on the inside,” Paige said. “I’m going to need more than one person as backup.”
“What about Dani?” Devon asked.
Paige shook her head. “She’s training for a fight and is out for the next two months.”
Damn. Dani, their resident mixed martial artist and combatives instructor, would have been perfect.
“You don’t have any other women working for you?” Addison asked.
Huh. Devon had never considered the lack of women in Leonidas. Maybe because Paige was always front and center, he never saw it as an issue.
Their COO shook her head. “We have a few who work in corporate security, but none of them have the necessary training or experience for something like this.” She turned in her seat to glare at Graham. “Which is one reason I want to recruit more women.”
“We’ll discuss that issue later. Right now, we need to figure out who’s going with you.”
“Me,” Addison said.
“That’s probably not a good idea,” Graham said.
Devon agreed—silently. He’d at least learned that lesson. It was a bad idea to have family members on ops with each other, especially when the op was to rescue one of those family members.
“Why?” Addison leaned forward and rested her forearms on the table. “I have the training. I have the experience. And this is my brother.”
Paige and Graham had one of their silent conversations he’d grown to recognize. Watching them, anyone would think they were a couple, but as far as he knew, they’d never been together. Not even back in the day before TLC. All he knew was they went through some shit together when they’d been deployed to Iraq, and it’d made them tight.
Hell, he knew that truth—he had guys he’d drop everything for in a heartbeat. It was a short list, but Braedon was one of those guys. Devon wouldn’t have made it through selection if it hadn’t been for him.
They finally ended their silent discussion. “How long are you on leave?” Graham asked.
Addison leaned back in her chair and rubbed the sleeping puppy’s ears. “I’m on terminal. I resigned my commission.”
“Really?” Paige asked.
“It was that or be court-martialed for telling a two-star to go fuck himself.”
“Yeah, that’d do it,” Jeremy said.
Graham drummed his fingers on the table. “Who’re we sending with her? We’re going to need Turner on standby. Mac’s slated for that personal protection detail next week. Harrison’s too young. That leaves Tinker, Jane, and Cactus.”
“Who?” Addison asked.
“Sorry,” Graham said. “Bad habit of using call-signs—Christian, Jeremy, and Devon.” He nodded at Jeremy and Devon.
Before he could even suggest either of the other two, Devon said, “We need Jeremy and Christian on extraction, especially if we have to procure transportation and weapons locally. So it’s me—I’ll partner with Addison.”
He leaned forward on the table, and she turned his way enough he could see her face. “Braedon’s my friend,” he said softly. “I want him out of that hellhole and home as much as you do.”
Her gaze met his. Maybe not as much, but he’d do anything to make it happen. Whatever she found in his gaze was enough, because she tilted her chin in agreement.
“Devon, take her down to the armory and get her kitted out,” Graham said. “We need to take as much gear with us as we can.”
“I’ll call Connie and see if she can help us,” Paige said. “Angie, once we get the invitation, you need to work your magic and find us everything on the location—physical and electronic security, interior and exterior, ingress and egress. If you can find schematics of the location, even better.”
Angie nodded sharply. “On it.”
Paige looked at Addison. “When was the last time you weapons qualified?”
“Nine months ago,” she said.
“Jeremy, set her up to shoot while she’s downstairs.”
“Copy.”
Devon glared in response to Jeremy’s smirk. He knew exactly where his train of thought was headed, and he’d be damned if he got anywhere near Addison.
“Addison, come back upstairs when you’re finished and we’ll go over the contract.”
Chapter 7
“So, Addison, any plans for dinner?” Jeremy asked as they waited for the elevator.
Devon glared at him over the top of her head. The asshole grinned in response.
“Yes, actually,” she said.
His gaze snapped to her. What? How the hell could she have dinner plans?
“Only in town for a day and you’ve already got a date. Nice,” Jeremy said.
Fucker.
“It’s not a date,” she said. “Just dinner with friends.”
The door opened with a ding, and she stepped into the car. Devon took the brief opportunity to punch Jeremy in the arm. Hard.
“Ow.”
Addison turned in the elevator and faced them, brows raised. “Am I going by myself?”
“No.” Devon stepped in and stood close on her right side, edging her toward the wall so Jeremy was forced to stand next to him. He leaned over and muttered, “Keep it up and I’ll tell Angie you switched out her coffee for generic.”
“Asshole,” Jeremy said out of the side of his mouth.
Devon smirked and pushed the button for the basement. “Just get the range ready.”
Addison leaned forward at the waist and took them both in. Her brows pinched, and she got a look on her face like she was trapped in an elevator with a couple of crazy people then she leaned back slowly, watching them out of the corner of her eye.
The doors opened, and Devon shoved Jeremy ahead of him before gesturing for Addison to precede him. “We’re going left.”
She stepped to the left and waited for him. He led her down the short hallway to the equipment room.
“What all’s down here?” she asked.
“Underground garage, a gym, a couple of sleeping pods, the equipment room, and at the other end of the hall is a five-lane indoor range and armory.”
“Wow. I never would have suspected all that was in here from the outside.”
He held the door for her as she entered. “When Graham bought the building, the only thing down here was the parking garage—he added the rest.”
“His dad said there was a delay in the renovation,” she said.
“Yeah. The range took longer to get certified than expected.” He led her through the locker room, where everyone stored their personal gear, to the storeroom where they kept replacements. “What size ve
st do you wear?”
“Small,” she said.
He took a vest from the shelf and handed it to her before grabbing the ballistic plates and inserts. Turning back around, he froze, gaping at the scene before him.
Addison, in the process of removing her blouse over her head, bared the smallest sliver of skin above the waistband of her slacks, revealing the soft curve of her stomach and the small jewel nestled in her belly button.
His mouth went dry as the July wind in Kuwait, and he brushed a hand over his mouth. Fuck. He wanted to flick that tiny rhinestone with his tongue and find where that tattoo on her shoulder disappeared to under her tank top.
“What?” she asked, catching him staring.
“I wasn’t expecting to find you half-naked.” Thankfully, his cargo pants were relaxed so his raging hard-on wasn’t glaringly obvious.
She pulled down the hem of the tight undershirt, adjusting it over the waist of her pants. “I’m not naked—it’s a camisole. I didn’t want to wrinkle my blouse when I put the vest on.”
Taking the plates from him, she dropped the vest to the floor and inserted them like she did it every day. Considering she’d been deployed a couple of months ago, she might have. She stood and slid the vest over her head, bouncing and shrugging her shoulders to settle the weight. After pulling the side bands closed, she stretched her neck from side to side.
“Can you adjust the straps in the back? It needs to be tighter.” She turned and faced the opposite wall.
Stepping behind her, he pulled on the tabs on the back of the vest. This close, he could smell her perfume. Something light and floral. She had a small birthmark on her nape, just under her hairline, shaped like an upside-down heart.
“A little tighter.” She glanced over her shoulder.
He flinched, caught staring at the nape of her neck. “Sure.” He pulled on the tabs, studiously blocking out all the little details he noticed about her until she told him it was tight enough.
“Do you want to shoot in the vest or without it?” he asked.
“Without, if I have the choice,” she said.
“Without it is.”
Truth In The Lie (The Leonidas Corporation Book 2) Page 4