Sweet Hart

by Rae Marks

“Not many people can afford to pay someone like me a regular salary. I get pulled in for contract jobs.”

  “And make more in one contract than most people make in a year?” Sam guessed.

  Sin shrugged.

  Sam pulled the coin out of his pocket and held it out. Sin looked down at it but gave no reaction. He looked back up at Sam.

  “What about this?” Sam asked as he nodded at the coin.

  “That’s taken me over a year to perfect.”

  “What’s the Latin on the back?”

  “Dum Spiro Spero,” Sin said as the corner of his mouth quirked up. “‘While I breathe, I hope’.”

  “Hope to be found,” Sam whispered.

  Though Sam hadn’t framed it as a question, Sin gave a slight nod.

  “Do you have other gadgets like this?”

  “That’s classified.”

  A laugh burst from Sam unbidden as he shook his head.

  “I can probably find out your name and who you work for,” Sam said.

  “I already know your name and who you work for.”

  “I’m guessing NSA,” Sam whispered.

  “Langley doesn’t recruit dense people,” Sin said.

  “I’ll take that as the compliment it was meant to be.” Sam returned the phrase Sin had used earlier. “If you’re ever looking for something new, give me a call.”

  Sam laid his card and the coin in his hand and held it out to Sin. He took the card but left the coin.

  “I think you forgot something,” Sam said. “I came here to give this back.”

  “No. You came here to scope me out and maybe offer me a job. I’m a contractor, so I am open for other consulting as long as it doesn’t include divulging anything classified or use or expose any classified hardware.”

  “And in exchange, I keep the coin so you can track me?” Sam didn’t think his superiors would approve of that.

  “Keep it in case a certain blond-haired, blue-eyed optimist wants to find you.”

  Sam’s chest felt tight as he closed his fist around the coin. He should give it back and walk away. And yet he put his fist into his pocket. Sam had detected something in the other man when he spoke about Bray.

  “You have a thing for him,” Sam said almost to himself.

  “I did.” Sin shrugged. “I’m not his type. Truthfully, he’s not typically my type either, but who can resist falling for Brayden Hart? Not me, and apparently not you.”

  “I’m not—”

  Sin interrupted Sam with a shake of his head. He stepped back and pulled his hood up.

  “The battery lasts longer if it’s stationary,” Sin said. “Also, a wireless charger will recharge it.” With that, he turned and walked away.

  That stupid coin seemed to weigh a hundred pounds as Sam made his way home. He should flush it down the fucking toilet. He should throw it away. Then it would just guide anyone to a landfill somewhere.

  He didn’t do any of those things. Instead, he laid it carefully on his dresser. There was no reason for Bray to look for him. They’d both known it was a short-term affair. And yet… And yet the hope it gave Sam made him feel a little lighter, almost happy.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Brayden

  Bray was finally starting to feel like himself again. The military had worked with him and had surprisingly let him move out of active duty and into IRR three months early because of his injury. Again, he wondered if Mase had gotten someone to pull some strings.

  It could also have been Jazz. Meeting Jazz had been an experience. He’d looked at Bray as if he were the missing piece of a puzzle he didn’t know how to fit together.

  Jazz reminded Bray of Orlando Bloom in Pirates of the Caribbean. It wasn’t just the resemblance, with the longish hair and groomed beard—it was the air about him. He was tenacious.

  It had taken six hours of debrief before they’d allowed Bray to leave. Jazz, Mitch and other nameless men and women from unnamed branches of the government had asked him a million questions, recording the entire thing.

  They’d warned him not to speak of any details as the mission was ongoing and classified. When he was getting ready to leave, Jazz had asked him how willing he would be to reprise his role if the need arose.

  Bray’s heart rate had kicked up so fast that he’d become dizzy, and a slew of butterflies had fluttered around in his stomach. He’d stuttered a little but admitted to being surprised at the request.

  “You held your own. You think fast on your feet and you jumped in to save Mase,” Jazz had said, but it was the last quip that had stuck with Bray. “Plus, you got the drop on Sam. I’ve never seen that happen.”

  It had taken two months for Bray to be medically cleared. During that time, he’d emailed back and forth with Mase a few times. His brother had also been replying to their mother’s emails. She'd been floating around with a permanent smile on her face. Nick, on the other hand, had been grumbling about Mase’s lack of response regarding their father.

  Bray hadn’t told him much about his conversation with Mase. They were all brothers, but that was Mase’s tale to tell. Just like Bray wouldn’t out Nick to their father, he wouldn’t out their father to Nick. It was up to Mase to open the lines of communication.

  Bray shook off those thoughts as he and Nick walked down an alley in Virginia. They’d parked in the parking structure across the street. ‘Alley’ was a strong term for where they were. There were small rows of shops and a somewhat-deserted parking lot behind them, across from them was another row of shops.

  In the middle of the parking lot, nestled behind the first set of shops, was what Bray might have thought was a garden of some sort. Ropes of green vines covered every square inch of what he assumed was either a wall or a fence. Tall trees blocked out any view of a building beyond.

  “What is this place?” Nick asked as they approached a wrought-iron gate.

  They hadn’t even seen the gate until their second pass around the perimeter. It was on that second time around that they’d seen the small panel with number keys and an ‘enter’ button.

  “It’s Mase’s team. He asked me to come, so I came. You’re here as my babysitter, apparently.”

  Nick rolled his eyes as Bray entered the code Mase had given him. When he pressed the enter key, nothing happened. He’d expected the gate to buzz open or for someone to talk to him through the tiny speaker holes above the keypad. He entered the code a second time then pressed the gate to make sure the lock hadn’t silently disengaged.

  “He’s probably going to offer you a job because you told him you’re out of the army. I’m just here to make sure you don’t get in over your head.”

  “You only have to enter the code once,” came a voice from the other side of the fence.

  “I wasn’t sure I entered it right, since the gate didn’t open.”

  “The code doesn’t open the gate.”

  The gate buzzed and swung open. There was a man waiting for them on the other side. The guy had both Bray and Nick a little tongue-tied. He looked like he’d just stepped off the pages of GQ magazine. He was tall, built and gorgeous. The blue of his irises was so stark against his dark eyelashes, eyebrows and hair that Bray wondered if the color was real.

  “The code says you were invited to come to the party, and it also tells me who invited you,” the man said as he held out his hand. “I’m Chase.”

  “Brayden Hart.” Bray shook his hand.

  “I was only expecting one visitor.”

  “This is Nicholas Hart. He—”

  “I know who he is. I was just mentioning that it wasn’t expected. Considering who you both are, I don’t think it should be a problem.” Chase motioned for them to step inside.

  When they were both through the gate, Chase closed it and entered a code in a keypad identical to the one they’d used on the outside of the gate.

  “Security measures.” Chase shrugged as he moved past them toward the building.

  At least Bray assumed there was
a building under all the greenery. He could see a door and the outline of windows on the higher floors, with a tiny bit of brick framing them where the ivy was kept tamed, but the rest of the building was green.

  “Why do I feel like Hansel and Gretel?” Nick asked.

  “You’re totally Gretel.” Bray elbowed Nick.

  Chase snorted a laugh.

  There was another keypad at the door, along with a fingerprint scanner. Mase was consulting, mostly for the government, but Bray was still surprised by the high security.

  When they walked through the front door, there was a small reception area and an older woman sitting at a desk. Her hair was mostly white, but she was beautiful, with dark, high-arching eyebrows and a welcoming smile.

  “Hey, Dee. This is Brayden Hart and Nicholas Hart.”

  “I know who they are, cher. I’ve seen their pictures, same as you.”

  Chase smiled but rolled his eyes. Her accent was Cajun and the twang of it made Bray smile.

  “Bonjour, Bray. Bonjour, Nick. I’ve been waitin’ to meet Mase’s baby brothers. You go get set up. We’ll have a vieller soon enough.”

  “Vayay?” Nick asked.

  “Oui. You know…a chat. We’ll be old friends before you know it.”

  With a nod, she went back to looking at the computer monitor in front of her. Bray liked her already. Beyond Dee’s desk was another door with yet another keypad. This time Chase pulled a badge from a retractable clip at his waist and scanned it. A light blinked from red to yellow. Then Chase pressed his hand to a biometric scanner. The light changed from yellow to green and there was a small click indicating the door had unlocked.

  “Dee is Jazz’s grandma. She’s also our receptionist. Don’t let her gray hair fool you. She’s sharp as a tack. You’ll be restricted to the first floor unless you have an escort,” Chase said as he handed Bray a badge and had him scan his handprint. “I’ll have a badge made for you, Nick. Wade will be available to meet with you in about ten minutes. Would you rather hang out in the library or in a conference room?”

  “Library,” Bray said.

  “This way.” Chase led them down a long hall.

  Along one side were a row of empty conference rooms. Along the other were fewer doors with theater seating in two large rooms. They passed a small kitchen and dining area before coming to yet another security door. Chase used his badge again to get them through.

  As the door closed behind them, Ax came around a corner, heading the same way they were. He was in athletic shorts and a soaking wet tank top that clung to every ridge of muscle on his chest and abs. He loosely gripped a towel that hung around his neck. His hair was slicked back and damp. There were rivulets of sweat making their way down his neck and temples.

  If Bray weren’t trying to burrow Sam out from under his skin, he might just drool over Ax, but Ax wasn’t his type. At least now he knew he really did have a type. Was Sam also there?

  “Well, well, well,” Ax drawled as he came to a stop next to them. “If it isn’t Hot Cakes. You gonna join up, Sweet Hart?”

  “Not if that’s my handle. Although”—Bray rubbed his chin as he pretended to think hard—“if that’s my handle, then yours will have to be Prince John, prince of the johns.”

  Chase burst out laughing. “He’s got your number, Loco,” Chase said.

  “Fuckin’ HC. You guys are worse than a knitting club with all your gossip. And you, Hot Cakes… I should have known you’d be sniffing around here. You missing anyone in particular?” Ax winked.

  “I don’t see you enjoying working with assholes like this, Bray,” Nick said.

  “He worked with me just fine, Nickel.”

  Nick took a step forward, his fists clenched. Bray placed his hand on his brother's arm. Under other circumstances, Bray thought Ax and Nick might actually get along. They both had similar, teasing personalities. Then again, maybe that was why they might rub each other the wrong way.

  “Later, Hot Cakes. Nice to meet ya, Nickel.”

  Ax sauntered past them down the hall. Seething, Nick turned and watched him go. Chase kept walking and Bray pulled Nick along.

  “Make yourselves at home. I’ll let Wade know where you are. He should be down shortly.”

  As soon as Chase closed the door behind himself, Nick turned on Bray. He was fuming mad. Bray braced himself for what was most likely to be a lecture.

  “I can’t believe you told that douche my nickname.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “Is he the one? The reason you got sidetracked in Ukraine?”

  “Settle down. I used it as code to send a message to Mase. I wasn’t spilling all your secrets or anything.”

  “I don’t exactly have a lot of secrets, but you know I always hated that nickname.”

  “It’s better than ‘Braid’. I was so worried that would become my call sign when I joined up.”

  “You think ‘Sweet’ is any better?”

  “It’s better than being named after a hairstyle that’s mostly used by women. And besides, at least I didn’t tell anyone how you got your call sign, Dash.”

  “Shut up,” Nick said with a half-smile on his face.

  Both brothers explored the books in the library. It was filled with reference material about learning languages, different cultures and customs and laws of different countries tucked in along with books in every language.

  “Like a spy reference library,” Nick said.

  Bray had expected to hear condescension in his tone, but there was only curiosity. The door to the library opened. A man stepped in.

  The guy was huge in both height and stature. He was at least six-foot-three and could probably bench press a car. He was attractive, in a young ‘Italian Stallion’ kind of way. He looked like a boxer, with a nose that was crooked and a little flat at the end, but he was definitely sexy.

  He was dressed in a custom suit that fit him like a glove from his wide shoulders to his narrow waist. Closing the door quietly behind himself, he sauntered forward with a slight hitch in his step.

  “Bray, Nick, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Wade.”

  Bray shook his hand but couldn’t stop the wave of disappointment that swamped him at the click of the door closing. He was hoping someone would be stepping in behind him. It was too much to hope that Mase had made it home already, but Sam might have joined them.

  “So Mase summoned Bray but didn’t bother to show up?” Nick asked.

  There was anger in Nick’s words, but Bray could detect a little hurt in his voice. He knew exactly what Mase was in the middle of, but he hadn’t been able to explain it to Nick. Wade, however, simply shrugged.

  “What Mase is doing is classified and can’t simply be cut short so he can come have coffee with his brothers. He may not be in the military anymore, but lives are still depending on his success and his sacrifice.”

  Nick turned to look at a row of books. Bray gave Wade a smile to try to make up for his brother’s lack of manners.

  “If you want to know classified information, First Lieutenant Hart, you’ll either have to bump up your status in the military right quick or—”

  That had Nick turning around.

  “Or what? Join Mase’s band of misfits?”

  Bray cringed at Nick’s comment. When Nick was hurt, he lashed out. Wade, on the other hand, threw his head back and laughed. It was a nice, deep, rich, honest sound.

  “I like that description. It’s actually very apt. ‘Band of misfits’. None of us ended up being a good fit in the military, but we fit in here.”

  That description right there seemed to click something in place inside Bray. Being gay in the military hadn’t been a good fit for him. Sure, the law was on his side, but that didn’t mean his teammates had been. He’d seen some of the guys covering their junk in the shower.

  He’d let it go because gay men did check out other men, but he wasn’t going to attack someone because he found them attractive. It hadn’t been all the guys, but the fact th
at he made people uncomfortable simply by existing and doing his job had weighed heavily on him sometimes.

  “The job offer is for Bray, not me,” Nick said.

  “I didn’t say anything about a job offer.”

  “Why else would you invite Bray here?”

  “Bray did some pretty impressive footwork, even though he had no idea what he had walked into. Our entire team wants to thank him. And if he’d like to work with us now that he’s a free agent”—Wade shrugged—“we’d be lucky to have him.”

  Bray’s chest warmed at the praise. He hadn’t been sure Nick had been right. He’d flubbed everything up in Kiev, but they thought he could hold his own. They thought he’d be a good fit for their team. Most of his previous teammates had been stuck with him. Here was a team of highly skilled operators and they wanted him.

  “He came home with a bullet hole,” Nick scoffed.

  “A bullet hole that saved a life,” Wade corrected.

  “I’m in,” Bray said.

  “What life?” Nick said at the same time.

  Nick grabbed the bicep of Bray’s good arm and pulled him off to the side.

  “Fuck, Bray. Hear their offer before you accept.”

  “An offer is about money. I don’t care about money. I could belong here. That’s more valuable to me.”

  “You think you can belong with a bunch of assholes like the guy in the hall?”

  “It was a private joke.”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed as they darted back and forth between Bray’s. With a sigh of defeat, he let go of Bray’s arm.

  “Don’t worry, Nick. The comp package is top of the line. It’s something you’d never even dream of in the military. Now”—Wade clapped his hands then rubbed his palms together—“let’s give you a tour of the building.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Sam

  Sam wouldn’t even admit to himself that he was avoiding the office. No one had called him on it yet, but it was only a matter of time. He didn’t want it to be something they teased him about, especially in front of their newest team member.

  It had been almost four months since he’d tiptoed out of that bedroom in Kiev, and he hadn’t seen Bray since. They’d spent a little more than four days together. Bray should barely be a memory, yet he crossed Sam’s mind in some form every single day. No one had ever gotten under his skin so fast or so deep.