Plain Sight

by Katherine Rhodes

  “So you are private security.”

  She shook her head. “No. I was honestly hired to be your temp assistant. It happened that Nolan and I talked a few times, and I felt you were in more danger than the security firm thought.”

  “Why would a temp assistant ever need to carry around a Glock like that?”

  “It’s not a Glock. It’s a Beretta. It’s a combat model, and it’s what I’ve been carrying for seven years,” she said. “Well, save the last six months. Then I only took it out for the range. I’m sure I didn’t have to jump through hoops to get concealed carry, but it’s a beast and it’s uncomfortable to have it tucked under my shirt in the holster. The Ruger was better for that.” She pointed to the six-shot pistol I had been toting around earlier.

  I ran a hand down my face. “You’re a spy, aren’t you? You completely, effectively turned away from my first question of who you are. Because you don’t talk about you. Ever. So, who are you?”

  “I’m not a spy. Not anymore. I’m a former MI6 agent.”

  “Former?”

  “I was dismissed six months ago. Because the director was a dick, and was more worried about me following instructions than getting the job done. Which was the polar opposite of the previous director, who recruited me.”

  I openly stared at her. “You were really a spy?”

  “Agent.”

  “Fucking semantics, McInnis!” I snapped as quietly as I could. “I’m supposed to trust you with the sleeping life in that bed, and you’d better start talking. Or so help me God, I will get a rental and go home.”

  Her hand shot out and grabbed mine. “No. No matter how pissed you get at me, Vaughn, you cannot go back to Pittsburgh right now. They will kill you.”

  Pulling my hand away, I stared at her. “Talk.”

  “Fine. I was fired for a semi-rogue operation that went completely right. Seven years in a job I didn’t know I wanted and I was dismissed out of hand because it got a little messy and I had tits. I managed to get my shit together over in London and headed back here. I didn’t know what the hell I was going to do and I’d been looking for a job for a few weeks when Victor heard I was looking and you were newly promoted. It worked, it was an honest job and I was happy for something to do.

  “Nolan had no idea what I used to do for a living and had no idea I pulled a little trick on him to get him talking about his assignment with you. He told me how no one had lifted a finger against you in the months since you lost your wife. That made him, and me, very fucking nervous.”

  She explained how everything had been done with picking my son up from school and how she knew everything was going wrong that day.

  “You flashed the Ruger on purpose.”

  “Did it convince you to trust me?”

  I paused. “I didn’t know what to think.”

  She leaned her elbows on her knees. “I need you to trust me, Vaughn. I can’t protect you if you don’t listen to everything I tell you. We can get this behind us, but…”

  “Not if I don’t trust you.”

  She nodded.

  “I cannot fucking believe this,” I ground out.

  “Believe what?”

  “You! This!” I gestured around the room. “They were drug dealers who got their hands on the codes and ran a laundering scheme. Why the hell would they be after me so many goddamn months later!”

  She was quiet, and stared at the bag that sat on her gun. “I don’t think they were just drug dealers. I don’t even know if you want to call the drug lords. I’m not sure what they are yet, but I’m going to have Nolan research it.”

  “No offense, but Nolan is all muscle, not brain.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “He’s an ex-con—”

  “What?” I slammed the chair back as I stood. “Are you kidding me? You’ve had an ex-con—”

  She had me against the wall with her elbow across my throat in the next second. Holy shit, she was strong and fast and downright pissed.

  It did things. To me.

  “If you don’t keep your goddamn voice down, you’re going to leave crumbs everywhere for them to follow and find us!”

  I growled at her through clenched teeth. “You put a goddamn ex-con on my son.”

  “He’s an ex-con because his wife’s lover was abusing his daughter. He killed them. That’s why I trust him with your son.”

  The words ran down my nerves and I slumped against the old wallpaper. “He did?”

  “Yes,” she said, her arm merely resting at the top of my chest now. “Damn it, Vaughn. Don’t you know that after two months of working with you I give a shit about you and D? Why do you think I went back to carrying a fucking gun? This isn’t a game. I don’t want to see you hurt. Either of you.”

  I stared at her, and saw something making her baby blues churn with fear and indecision.

  A moment later she dropped her arm and started to turn away from me.

  Shit.

  I grabbed her shoulder and spun her back, and with no more time than a heartbeat to look at those blue eyes, I crashed my mouth over hers.

  Chapter Eight

  Bridget

  Well, shit.

  Vaughn Willard could kiss.

  It wasn’t even a kiss, it was consuming assault on my mouth and senses.

  I had stopped myself from doing exactly this just seconds earlier. I hadn’t been kidding when I said I gave a shit about them—no one works as close as we had and not started to care about the other person a little.

  I had simply started caring a lot more than I thought was appropriate given the situation. Situations. Widower, target, father, boss…all of it kept saying hands off and I didn’t know what to do with what I was starting to feel.

  He, however, apparently did.

  And was very good at sharing that information.

  A hand snuck up into my hair and held me so he could plunder every corner of my mouth, like I was the last thing he’d ever taste. And I welcomed him, his heat and flavor.

  I’d forgotten what this felt like.

  I grabbed his hips and pulled him up against me—

  A quiet whimper from the bed cut through the blinding lust we were consumed by.

  “Fuck,” he gasped, stepping back and hitting the wall.

  It was easy to see he needed a minute, so I backed up into the room.

  We just stared at each other. His chest was heaving and he was lost in thought, and I hoped the sensation of the kiss.

  A long minute later, Vaughn finally found his words. “I just made this so fucking awkward.” He raked a hand through his hair and made step for the front door.

  Grabbing his elbow, I shook my head. “No. Bad idea.” Instead, I pulled him toward the bathroom, and once were both in the space I closed the door.

  “You can’t leave this room, not without me, and especially not without a gun.”

  “I didn’t mean to make this weird.” He huffed. “Christ, what a shit time for this.”

  “For what?” I probed.

  “For…this.” He pointed between the two of us.

  “When would it have been convenient?”

  He let out a breath. “Quarter to never.”

  “Doesn’t work for me,” I answered, and captured his mouth with mine.

  This time, I drove the kiss. I wanted to taste him, and memorize every bit of his mouth. The sweet taste of toothpaste and a mint Oreo shake. I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck and held him still.

  And the kiss went on until we both need to just come up for air.

  “So, awkward, right?” I managed, leaning my forehead on his.

  His palm cupped my cheek. “So fucking awkward.”

  “What do we do about…this.” I swept my finger back and forth between us.

  Vaughn chuckled lightly. “We give me a moment to absorb this.”

  I stared into those bright honey-hazel eyes. “You know this isn’t wrong, even if the timing sucks donkey dick.”

  He laughed. �
�God, you have such a way with words. And Bridget, this is wrong on a bunch of levels, but I’m not going to stand here and list them. I think you’re smart enough to figure them out.”

  I nodded and sighed. “Vaughn…”

  “It’s a bad time.”

  “For so many reasons. But we can’t ignore what we feel. It would make this way too tense for us and for Dylan.” I ran my hand up and down his arm. “And I know we can’t just go ahead and act all…lusty in front of your son.”

  “That would be bad,” he agreed. “But…”

  I smiled. “Yeah, I don’t want to ignore it either. But we’re adults. We can act like adults.”

  He leaned in and kissed me again, this time soft and slow, more curious than desperate. I felt him pull back a little. “So I remember that you’re in this too until I get another chance to kiss you.”

  Nodding, I did the same. Slow, careful and committing him to memory.

  It was damn hard to finally pull back, but when I did, I pulled the door open at the same time so we couldn’t get into each other again. We needed to plan and there were things I needed to say and explain without making out like a horny teenager.

  “So, what do we do?” Vaughn had pulled his chair very close to mine by the windows. I saw his hand twitch and after a glance at the bed where Dylan was still sound asleep, I grabbed it and held it.

  “We are going to figure out what’s going on and we’re going to get you back to Pittsburgh and back to normal.”

  He sighed. “You know my normal is long gone, right?”

  I swallowed and nodded. “All of our normals are gone. Let’s work on getting something stable for your son.”

  “Do we have a plan?”

  I flicked my thumb over his knuckles, running those kisses through my head again. Finally I forced myself away from them. “Can you stay calm long enough to hear about Nolan?”

  He sucked in a breath and nodded slowly. “Yes.”

  “Nolan has contacts. He’s wasted in that piece of shit security firm. I’m glad they fired him. Meanwhile, he has someone he is going to talk to for some research.”

  “You’re really convinced these people aren’t just drug lords, cleaning gun money.”

  Nodding, I chewed on my lip. “When I was an agent, I was known for having really good instincts for things like this. And this just feels like we’re missing something. Laundering is easily done through simpler means than using bank accounts at a massive corporation. The fact that the Walshes are so big now just makes me think this wasn’t a simple scheme.”

  “But they made absolutely no moves against me until today…”

  “Exactly, today. When they knew your son had soccer and you and Michelle might not be able to pick him up. After the security firm dropped Dylan’s man. Not a single move. I’ve dealt with a lot of dealers and they don’t wait months to get back at you. That plan is up and running in just days. They want the money and the drugs moved.”

  “But if it was just the money…”

  “Exactly. I’m thinking this also not just the money. There’s more here. I’m going to have to talk to Victor and Nathaniel tomorrow. We’ll have to find a place to sit for a while in privacy.”

  “Isn’t this room—”

  My head was shaking out a negative before he finished the motion. “We have to get up and out of here tomorrow as soon as possible. We’re way too close and there’s a damn good chance they could still find us.”

  Vaughn scrubbed a hand over his stubble. This man was so damn sexy, and those kisses drifted back into my mind.

  “And you’re sure we can trust Nolan?”

  “He’s also a former assistant district attorney,” I answered. “Not my story to tell, but I trust that man. Again, call it instinct.”

  It was quiet a moment. “Breakfast and then on the road?”

  “On the road and we’ll grab some food along the way. I’ll wake you up when we’re ready to go.”

  “Wait, you can’t stay up…”

  “I can, but I’m not going to.” I smirked. “I’ll get up and take care of some stuff and wake the two of you up. Then we can roll out. I’m going to try and get some sleep right now.”

  I squeezed his hand—from which he hadn’t let go of, and stood, slipping the Beretta from under the bag. I slid it under the pillow closest to the door, and tossed the covers back.

  “I have a portable alarm on the door,” I said, pulling out the pajamas I bought, “so I would recommend you try and get some sleep as well.”

  “Without the gun?” he teased.

  “And in the other bed.”

  “Really?”

  I stepped close to him. “Really. Because there’s no way we aren’t going to keep our hands to ourselves if we’re in the same bed.”

  “We’re grown-ups.”

  Leaning in, I gave him a kiss to remind him where we were with the grown-up bullshit. “That’s exactly the problem.”

  Vaughn

  I hated that she was right.

  I also hated that I couldn’t call my therapist.

  That was new for me. I’d been fighting the man all along, but I could really have used his advice at that moment. My brain was at war with itself over everything—but my rational brain won, and I knew it was just better for me, Dylan, and her that I sleep in the bed with my son.

  I really needed to talk to Dr. Billings.

  Grabbing the bag with her toiletries in it, she glanced at me, at the door, and back to the bathroom. “I need a shower. Desperately. Do you think you’re all right to just keep watch? Literally scream if you need me?”

  Smirking, I nodded. “I didn’t like the army, wasn’t a fan of guns, but I learned and I can handle one.”

  Bridget gave the pillow with her weapon under it a side-eye. “Okay, but don’t touch the Beretta. That thing has a fucking kick and I have to show you how to use it.” Turning, she marched into the bathroom.

  Show me how to use it? I had no intention of touching that monstrous weapon. I was not a strong arm and that thing would throw me back as far as it would send a bullet.

  I sat on the chair again and stared over at Dylan.

  They shot at my son.

  The reality of what had happened today slammed into me and I gasped, and instantly started hyperventilating. Dropping my head between my knees I tried to steady myself, drag air into my lungs.

  Jesus God, they would have killed him if it hadn’t been for Nolan and Bridget. They knew exactly what to do and hadn’t been the least bit afraid to act. I never would have had the knowledge or the wherewithal to do anything.

  Bridget had jumped into action, leaving her brother and her job in a heartbeat to make sure Dylan was going to be safe.

  I couldn’t catch my breath. This was overwhelming.

  My son had been shot at because I found some stupid aberration in the money I was tasked with using for supplies and support. For finding money that didn’t belong there, to me or to the company.

  They were going to try and kill us for that.

  My lungs burned, and fell forward out of the chair, tipping the table over.

  God, my son.

  The bathroom door slammed open and Bridget had her knife in her hand ready to throw it. She was framed perfectly in my narrowing vision.

  “Jesus Christ, Vaughn!” Bridget ran over and dropped next to me on the floor. “Hold your breath. Just hold it for a moment.”

  I managed it.

  “Let it out slowly.”

  That wasn’t happening—it blasted out of me in a rush. Bridget instructed me to hold it again, and then when to take a breath. The gray around the edges started to subside, and she talked me through the next few breaths.

  “Daddy?”

  Bridget poked her head up and found Dylan in his bed. I kept breathing like she had me doing, and I could imagine him half sitting up in the bed.

  “He’s fine, Dylan. Just tripped. Go back to sleep.”

  “’Kay.”

&nb
sp; The bed creaked a little as he fell back. In less than a few seconds, his little snore echoed through the room.

  Bridget had her hand on my back. “Breathing?”

  I nodded, and kept breathing.

  “Come on, come sit in the bathroom. We’ll leave the door cracked so we can hear anything. You need the steam and the company.”

  I didn’t fight her at all. My lungs were still burning and I couldn’t walk straight. The only thought going through my head was the same one that sent me to the floor.

  “They tried to kill my son…”

  Bridget sat me on the closed lid of the toilet. “Can you put your head between your knees for a bit?”

  I did it without complaint. The air hurt when I pulled it in and let out. “Jesus Christ, Bridget, they tried to kill my son.”

  Her hand drew circles on my back. “I shouldn’t have left you out there. I knew this was going to happen.”

  “Why do they want to kill my son?”

  “Do you really want the answer?”

  “Yes!”

  “They want to break you down. You know something they don’t want you to know, or you have information they need.”

  “But Dylan…”

  “It’s not about him. He’s your weakness. Why do you think Nolan and I made sure he was with you? It’s easier to keep you two together, and protect you as a single target. He’s your Achilles’ heel…and their pawn. And make no fucking mistake about this, Vaughn. They will put a bullet through him without a second thought.”

  My heart started racing again and I started to feel dizzy.

  “You need to breathe!” she snapped. “Christ, you’re wound tighter than a drum.”

  I forced myself to breathe through the dizzy spell, and finally felt that my lungs weren’t on fire anymore. I hung my head between my hands and stared at her legs.

  “You need to promise me one thing, and one thing alone,” I whispered.

  “What’s that?”

  Lifting my head, I nailed her with my gaze. “That no matter what happens, my son will be safe.”

  Bridget nodded. “I promise. He will be safe, and will be safe with you.”