by Ivy Nelson
“Somehow I doubt that, but thanks for pretending anyway,” she said with a wink. Peter chuckled. At least she knew he was only letting her think she was in charge. After the party on Friday night, they had gone home and made love one more time. Saturday was spent much the same way, but he’d made certain she knew he was in control. Until five that evening anyway. Right at five, she had held up the clock on her phone and said, “Now your ass is mine. I hope you don’t get motion sick.”
“Let’s hit Devil Mountain after we drop our stuff in a locker,” Carrie said when she looked up from the park map she’d been perusing.
“Devil Mountain?”
Her head bobbed up and down over her cup and he sighed. “I’m just not going to ask anymore questions. Lead the way, Miss Davenport.”
On the way, they stopped and rented a locker for the day where she insisted they both leave their phones.
Devil Mountain, as it turned out, was a wooden roller coaster. And for a brief moment, Peter regretted making this deal with Carrie. Conjuring up images of her kneeling at his feet got him through the first climb up the mountain. It was fleeting though because at the summit, she jerked his arm upward and yelled for him to get ready. It’s not that he had never been on a roller coaster before, it had just been a very long time. So, when they flew down the first hill, he was fairly certain that his stomach, along with his manliness stayed at the top as he heard himself screaming at the top of his lungs. Beside him, Carrie was giggling. At him. The urge to take her across his knee overwhelmed him and as they began to climb the next mountain, he fisted his hand into her hair and kissed her. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he growled, which only elicited more laughter.
The rest of the morning went much the same way, with Carrie dragging him from one ride to another and Peter fighting to keep his breakfast down. When she tried to put him on a spinning ride, he put his foot down and refused, at which point they took a break for lunch.
Because this was Carrie’s adventure, the meal consisted of mostly fried food, but he managed to order a salad for himself. “I don’t see how you haven’t had a heart attack,” he grumbled as he looked at the greasy baskets in front of him. “I’ve eaten more fried food since I met you than I have in my entire life.”
“It’s good for you,” she said around a mouthful of fried chicken strip.
“I think we have very different definitions of what’s good for you,” he said dryly.
Carrie giggled as she had been doing often today and dunked a fry into some Ketchup.
“Would it kill you to eat a vegetable?” He stabbed a cucumber from his salad with a fork and offered it to her.
Her nose crinkled in disgust. “I don’t like vegetables.”
“Do you not like them, or have you just not had the right ones?” When she continued to look at him with a look of revulsion, he said, “I’m cooking for you this week. I think you’ll find vegetables and non-fried food can be delicious. Even better than whatever the hell this is.” He waved his hand across the array of breaded fare. Though he could see the skepticism on her face, he also noticed that she didn’t say no to the idea of him cooking for her.
“I know you said unplugged for the day baby but can we please stop at the locker so I can check my phone?” he asked when they were done eating.
With a dramatic sigh she said, “I guess that will be OK, but you owe me a spinning ride.”
He captured her at the waist and pulled her to him. “Nice try. I said no spinning rides. Unless you want me to spank you in the family bathroom that is.”
Watching her blush was among his favorite activities lately and she didn’t disappoint him now even though she recovered quickly and said, “As tempting as you spanking me is, I’m going to pass on doing it in a dirty public bathroom.”
When they reached their locker, he pulled the key out of his pocket and opened the tiny door. Withdrawing their phones—four between the two of them—he handed Carrie hers before looking at both of his.
Beside him, Carrie swore, but he didn’t have time to worry about whatever was on her screen as he felt the color drain from his face. Thirteen missed calls.
“Excuse me,” he said tersely.
“Wait,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. “Have you seen the headlines?
“Not something I care about right now, Carrie. Something is happening at work.”
Her small hand gripped his bicep harder. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. They found a body at Upwood’s house.”
Before he realized what he was doing, he had wrenched her phone from her hand and now stared at the CNN headline she had been trying to show him.
“Fuck,” he bit out. Then he saw her big eyes filled with hurt. “I’m sorry. I have to return this call,” he said handing her the phone back.
By the time he was a safe distance from her, Director Higgins was answering his call.
“Where the hell are you?” his boss hissed into the phone.
“Sorry, Sir. I left town for the day and I’ve been someplace where cellphones weren’t allowed. I stopped to check it while I was at lunch and saw what happened.”
“I know it’s your thirty off, but we need you here. Upwood is throwing a fit. He wasn’t home when the body was dumped at his doorstep because he went to Chicago and we took him to the safe house when he returned, but he’s insisting that had you been around, whoever dumped the body wouldn’t have gotten through. We both know that isn’t true, but if you could come back to work that would really help keep things smooth. This is about to become a God damned circus.”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll need a few hours to get back home and changed. Should I plan to take the night shift?”
“Come check in with your team and protectee tonight but just plan to take your normal day shift starting in the morning. I’m really sorry about all this, Agent Mercer. I’ll make sure you get an extended leave when this is all done.”
“It’s part of the job Sir. I’ll be back in D.C. in a few hours.”
When he turned back, Carrie was sitting on a nearby bench staring at him intently. Shit. For a moment, he had forgotten all about her, and now he felt horrible.
“I handled that very poorly and I’m sorry,” he said when he sat down next to her.
Her breath caught and she sucked in a breath. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For?” he asked, puzzled.
“Apologizing,” she answered, scooting next to him.
He smiled and wrapped an arm around her tucking her close to his side.
“I’ve had a good day with you,” she said into his chest.
“Me too, Fried food and all. Unfortunately, I have to get back to D.C. I’ve been called back into work.”
“I probably need to check in at work too. This could be what convinces Tom to put me back on the story.”
He offered her a small smile and bent his head to brush a kiss across her forehead. “Thanks for understanding. I’m sorry for being an asshole.”
They sat on the bench for a minute in silence, watching people passing by. Carrie jumped up and pressed a smacking kiss to his cheek. “Come on. We’re going to do one more thing on our way out.”
He looked at her quizzically but accepted her outstretched hand. Soon, he found himself in a park gift shop.
“We have to pick a souvenir to commemorate the occasion. We can buy the picture they took of us on our way in.”
Now, he was glad he had given in and stopped for the photographer as he saw the look of delight on his girl’s face. At the counter, the employee offered them a variety of ways to buy the picture. Carrie chose a printed photo in a kitschy frame, and Peter chose a key chain.
“Will you pay for this?” Carrie asked, “I’ll be right back.” He decided he was better off just agreeing with her, so he nodded and watched Carrie scurry to another part of the large shop before turning to hand the clerk his credit card.
A few minutes later, he met her at the front of the shop where she was
clutching a small plastic bag. He held up the bag of photo goodies and together they made their way to the parking lot.
The drive back to D.C. was quiet. Carrie pulled out a tablet and wireless keyboard and was typing away, while Peter went over scenarios in his head. At one point in the trip, he called agent Lathen to coordinate a transfer. The agent agreed to stay on call over the next few weeks just in case Peter needed time off since this was supposed to be his thirty off.
Peter thanked him and glanced over at Carrie who was still engrossed in her typing.
When they pulled onto his street, she started putting her tech away. “I’m really sorry our day got interrupted,” he murmured as he pulled into the parking garage.
Her hand flew out and grabbed his. “Please don’t be sorry. It will be OK. If I’m going to have any sort of relationship with you, I should probably get used to it. I get pulled away at bad times too.”
Relief washed over him, and he sighed, grateful that she understood. Still, he wanted to make it up to her.
“I have to go into work for a couple of hours right now, but then I’ll be home. Can I cook for you?” he asked hopefully.
“You just want to feed me vegetables.”
Laughter rippled through him as he shut the car off. “I think you’ll like what I have in mind, little one.”
“OK. I’ll let you cook for me. But if I hate it, you have to buy ice cream. Raspberry Brownie to be exact.”
“It’s a date, baby.”
Inside the apartment, Peter pulled her into his arms and kissed her softly, taking a moment to hold her before excusing himself to get ready.
“Oh wait,” she said causing him to turn around. “Before you go, I bought you these. Thought you could wear them to work. A reminder of our day.”
He accepted the bag she was offering him. “You do know the Secret Service has a dress code, right?”
Carrie giggled. “Just open it silly.”
When he opened the bag, he raised one eyebrow at her. “Really, Carrie?”
It was a pair of boxers with the theme park logo all over them in a rainbow of colors.
“Really, Peter. And you have to wear them. It’s part of our adventure.”
With a scowl, he wagged a finger at her. “Like I said, you’re lucky you’re cute.”
But he took the bag with him to get dressed because her beaming smile of approval made him want to do anything it took to keep it on her face.
• • •
Carrie watched Peter walk down the hall and let herself appreciate his backside in jeans once more before he went back to the stern suits he wore for work. It made her sad that they’d had to cut their day short, but they had made some excellent memories that she wouldn’t trade for anything.
A few minutes later, her phone dinged, and she picked it up. A high-pitched giggle bubbled out of her as she opened the text message from Peter. He had snapped a photo of himself in his full-length mirror wearing nothing but the boxers she had bought.
He poked his head out of the bedroom with an exaggerated scowl on his face. “Laughter is not typically the response a Dom is hoping for when he sends a picture like that to a woman.”
Her giggles turned to full blown laughter and she held her stomach. “Sorry. I’m sorry.” When his eyes hardened, and he stalked toward her, she changed tactics and batted her eyelashes at him. “They fit you perfectly, Sir. I’ll have fun taking them off later.”
A growl left him as he reached her. “Don’t say things like that to me when I have to get my ass to work, little one.” He grabbed her and planted a rough kiss on her lips, stealing her breath before he backed down the hallway. She blew him a kiss with an over the top flourish as he disappeared back into his bedroom.
The kiss left her feeling dazed as she wandered back to the couch. A knock sounded, startling her. Without thinking, Carrie rushed over to answer it. When she opened the door, nobody was there, but a package lay at her feet.
“Are you seriously about to pick that up?” Peter growled. She whirled around just in time for him to grasp her upper arm and drag her out of the doorway.
“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to open the door for strangers?” he muttered.
“Calm down. You’re overreacting.”
That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because she found herself backed against the entry wall with him glaring down at her.
“Overreacting? Someone drugged your drink, tried to kidnap you, set your apartment on fire, and tried to blow up my protectee at least three times. Not to mention, there’s a dead body on his doorstep. Did I miss anything?”
His face was inches from hers and she could feel his hot breath fluttering over her skin as he spoke.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think. You’re right,” she said in a quiet voice, hoping to calm him down.
“Damn right you didn’t think. Go sit down.” He pointed at the couch.
“I don’t think it’s dangerous. It looks like the same kind of packages I’ve been getting.”
But he wasn’t interested in her explanations. He continued pointing and glaring at her until she sank into the couch. When he was satisfied, he kneeled down and inspected the package, muttering to himself as he did. Finally, he deemed it safe and brought it inside. Then he was on the phone asking the front desk if they had let any delivery people up.
“A messenger came up a few minutes ago. I’ll get the building security footage and see if we can identify this fucker.”
Carrie couldn’t tell if his irritation stemmed from his disdain for the anonymous source or if he was still irritated with her.
“I should take this to Tom. He’s only seen the first package. The rest might convince him to let me back on this story officially.”
He folded his arms, the package in one hand. “You being on this story is detrimental to your wellbeing and I don’t like it.”
Carrie blinked several times, her mouth opening and closing again before she was able to speak. “You don’t like it? It’s my job Peter. I don’t like the idea of someone blowing you to smithereens, but you don’t see me trying to stop you from doing your job.”
His eyes closed and he blew out a long breath. “I’m not trying to stop you from doing your job Carrie. I’m just saying maybe you should try listening to your boss on this one.”
“Don’t you dare make this about my lack of submissive tendencies.”
“What? Where did that come from?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’ve really got to get to work.” Holding up the package he said, “I’m taking this with me. We’ll look at it together when I get back. Do not leave this apartment.”
Carrie opened her mouth, intent on arguing with him but he held up his hand.
“I mean it Carrie. If you need to go to work that’s fine but tell me so I can have someone take you. I wasn’t going to tell you but you’re a damned journalist, so you’ll find out soon enough. It was Savannah’s body they found at Upwood’s, baby.”
Carrie’s hand flew to her mouth. “Do you think Upwood killed her?”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’m not saying he didn’t have something to do with her death, but I don’t think he actually did it. Based on what we know, he was still in Chicago when the body was dumped, and he went straight to the safe house from the airport when he got back.”
Peter looked at his phone and winced. “Baby, I’m sorry. I want to stay here and make sure you’re OK, but I really have to get to work. I promise I won’t be gone long.”
Carrie gave him a small smile. “I’ll be OK. I’m just a bit in shock. I didn’t really even know her that well, I had just shared a few drinks with her when I was visiting the club.”
Peter pulled her close and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back soon,” he said before striding out the door. When she heard the lock click into place, she finally let the tears she’d been holding in fall. As she cried, she vowed to get justice for Savannah and the other women
who were missing.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Work was a nightmare from the moment Peter arrived at Corbit Upwood’s safe house Even though it was late in the evening there was a flurry of activity. The FBI insisted on questioning each of his men as well as Upwood who was not happy. When he wasn’t being interviewed by the FBI or a secret service investigator, he was stomping around the house loudly complaining about the way his security was being handled.
“Director please calm down,” Peter said for what must have been the tenth time since he arrived on scene.
“Stop fuckin’ telling me to calm down. I’m not a child. I have a right to be angry about the way this mess is being handled. I’m being treated like a common criminal.”
Peter wanted to point out that a regular citizen in his situation would likely have been hauled into a police interrogation room and possibly even have been arrested. They definitely wouldn’t be holed up in a fancy government financed safe house with a full staff waiting on them hand and foot. He didn’t say any of that though. Just once again explained why they needed his cooperation to get through this process quickly.
Once Peter felt like he had sufficiently checked in and promised to be back on site first thing in the morning, he headed home. Carrie would be chomping at the bit to open the package that had been dropped at his doorstep. He had a couple of stops to make before he got there though. The first being the grocery store, and the second being his building security office to see if they had the footage he requested ready. Hopefully they would catch a glimpse of whoever brought the package. It had Carrie’s name on it which disturbed him. How did whoever dropped it off know she was staying at his place?
After picking up the flash drive of security feeds, he carried his grocery haul to his apartment. When he opened the door, his heart skipped a beat at the sight of Carrie curled up in his recliner sound asleep. It would be so easy to get used to her being here when he came home.
Quietly, he shut the door and tiptoed to the kitchen where he dropped his bags. Then, he went to his bedroom to strip off his jacket and lock up his gun. Back in the kitchen, he began arranging ingredients to cook dinner.