HOT Angel_Hostile Operations Team_Book 12 Read online

  “Yeah, not quite the benefits I’d like,” he replied, grinning. “But we’re getting there.”

  “It’s strange for me, having you here. I feel like I know you and like we’re strangers too. It’s so odd.”

  “But you aren’t scared of me.”

  It wasn’t a question. She shook her head.

  “That’s good,” he said. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel since we’d never worked up to actual phone conversations.”

  She dropped her gaze. “I know it’s weird, but texting seemed safer. What if you didn’t like talking to me? What if the fun we were having was ruined by conversation? And then there was the fact I made you smaller and less threatening in my mind.”

  She reached for his hand, stroked the back of it. He turned his palm over and she ran the pads of her fingers over it, a little shiver of excitement rolling up her arm and down her spine.

  He didn’t move beyond that, however, and she knew he did that for her. So he wouldn’t scare her. A wave of emotion swelled inside her at that small gesture. Part of her wanted to fling herself at him, and part of her held back the way it always did.

  “I’m not a threat to you, angel. Not now, not ever. When I gave you my number at Ice’s that day, I’d hoped for the normal progression—a few calls, a date, some sex. But that’s not the way it’s going to work for us—and I’m fine with that.”

  She blinked back the hot tears that suddenly threatened. “I’m a mess, Cade. You don’t want to deal with this. Hell, I don’t want to deal with it—but I’m stuck. You aren’t.”

  He tipped her chin up with his fingers. The shock of his touch—and of his eyes boring into hers—stopped her breath for a long, painful moment.

  “You will never forget what happened to you, Brooke. And when you want to tell me everything, I’m ready to listen. Because I’m not stuck with you. I’m here because I’m your friend.”

  Her heart tripped and skipped along, tumbling over itself while her belly squeezed tight. “I’ve told you all there is to know.”

  His smile was sad and tender at once. “No, I don’t think you have. But it’s okay. There’s time.” He stood and bent to kiss her on the forehead. “Go back to sleep, angel.”

  She wanted to protest, but she was suddenly too tired to do so. Her eyelids drooped—and she slept.

  * * *

  Cade took Max for an early-morning run, then returned to Brooke’s place and set about fixing breakfast. He turned on the Keurig, gave Max his food, reading the bag first to see how much the dog should be eating, then pulled out a carton of egg whites—of course—and a package of shredded low-fat cheese—another of course. There was ham (lean), which he chopped up, and then he set about fixing an egg-white omelet. He found bread, toasted it, and butter, which he slathered on generously.

  He ate the whole thing at the kitchen island, then went to Brooke’s bedroom to check on her. He’d fix her the same thing, but not until she woke on her own. He was just shutting the door again when she rolled over and pushed herself up on an elbow. Her hair was a wild mess as she squinted at him.

  “Do I smell coffee?” Her voice was adorably scratchy and high-pitched.

  “Yep. You want some?”

  “Please.”

  “Cream or sugar?”

  “Cream.”

  He went back to the kitchen and put a cup under the Keurig, popped in a pod, and found the cream. After stirring in a healthy amount, he returned to her room to find her sitting up in bed, the television on with the sound muted. She’d smoothed her hair so it didn’t stick up quite so much, and she smiled at him as he approached.

  Max bounded in and jumped on the bed.

  “Baby,” Brooke exclaimed, ruffling his fur and hugging him tight when he put his face up to hers. “How’s my doggie this morning?”

  “He’s good. Crapped a log. Pissed a river. Ate all his food.”

  Brooke kept ruffling him. “Did you do all those things? Were you good for Cade?”

  Max licked her chin, and she lifted her face so he didn’t get her mouth.

  She laughed. “That’s my boy!”

  Cade thought he’d like to lick her mouth. Not helpful. He set the coffee on the bedside table. When she was done with Max, the dog flopped at her side, tongue lolling out, and she picked up the steaming cup to take a sip.

  “Mmm,” she said, eyes closing, and Cade told himself not to get hard. It was fucking coffee, for God’s sake.

  “You want an omelet?”

  She blinked and stared up at him. “An omelet? Are you for real?”

  He shrugged. “Of course. It’s not hard. I live alone. It’s learn how to cook a few things or eat takeout all the time.”

  “Maybe in a few minutes,” she said.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Much better. I think I’ll have some bruising, but my head is mostly better.” She lifted her fingers to touch the side of her head. “A little tender where I hit, but no more throbbing.”

  “That’s good.”

  She bit her lip and sipped the coffee again, holding the mug with both hands. “If I’m honest, I can manage Max and take care of myself now. So you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  She blinked at him. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then I’ll stay for now. Until you’re certain you feel up to taking Max out.”

  She nodded. And then her eyes widened and she reached for the remote, unmuting the television.

  “The body of Scott Lloyd, an employee of Black Eagle Firearms, was found yesterday at his Alexandria address. He died from a gunshot wound to the chest. The police are looking for this man. He’s wanted for questioning.”

  A police sketch of a man flashed on the screen while the anchor read off his description. Brooke’s face grew pale.

  “Oh my God, he’ll know it was me. If that man is out there watching, he’ll know it was me. I thought he might have been visiting someone else on the floor, but he wasn’t, was he?”

  Cade had gotten a copy of the police report from Hacker, who’d done some serious sleight-of-computer code, or whatever it was he did, to access it. Male, five-six, medium build, dark hair, dark eyes, day’s growth of beard, Spanish accent, wearing a suit with no tie, carrying a pistol in a shoulder holster, crooked front teeth…

  “No, I don’t think he was. They’ve talked to all the residents on this floor by now and ascertained he wasn’t here to see any of them. He could have gotten off on the wrong floor, so there’s still a chance he wasn’t the guy who shot Scott.”

  Though he didn’t believe that for a second. Brooke had had the misfortune to run into the killer on her way back to her apartment. There was now, quite possibly, a target painted on her back. He was still waiting for more info from Hacker and his team, but he didn’t think it was going to be good.

  “I saw the killer, didn’t I?” Brooke asked, her face utterly white.

  “You probably did.” Cade wasn’t going to lie to her. “But it’s not one hundred percent certain. That man could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He could have gotten off on the wrong floor.”

  Cade doubted it, but anything was possible.

  “Am I in danger? Because I saw him?”

  “Not with me here.”

  “But you won’t always be here,” she said softly.

  “I’ll be here as long as it takes, angel. And don’t forget the security cameras. They’ll provide footage of him, even if it’s grainy. It’s not only you who saw that man.”

  She nodded and then stared at the TV screen as the logo of Scott’s employer flashed on the screen. “Black Eagle Firearms? I honestly had no idea Scott worked for an arms manufacturer.”

  Now that was a surprise. Cade knew she’d dated her neighbor a couple of times. What had the man told her? “Where did you think he worked?”

  “He said he worked for the Government Accountability Office. I thought he was going over fe
deral spending for Congress.”

  “He did,” Cade said. “He left that position for one with Black Eagle.”

  Brooke blinked at him. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I have sources, Brooke. Scott Lloyd left the GAO over a year ago. He took the chief financial officer position at Black Eagle.”

  Hacker was digging into it right now, finding out what Lloyd had been responsible for, if he’d possibly gotten tangled up in any dirty dealings.

  She looked thoughtful. “One of our neighbors had a cocktail party. It’s where we first met. I remember I told him I hated the weapons industry and anyone who worked for it… It’s no wonder he never told me the truth.” She shook her head. “There’d been a mass shooting and I was having a bad moment, I admit it. But some of the guys there were going on about the second amendment and their right to own whatever they wanted and I blew. I may have said something about gun manufacturers being complicit in mass shootings. I was probably a little drunk—I also never got invited back to any cocktail parties there.”

  Yeah, he didn’t think she would have been the life of the party among a group of people advocating gun rights. As a professional, he could see both sides of the issue. On the one hand, he thought weaponry was best left in the hands of people like him. On the other hand, people had the constitutional right to buy guns, and most people who did weren’t crazed killers.

  She gazed up at him. “I know you’re carrying, Cade. I know it’s what you do and who you are. But you’ve never hidden that from me.”

  “I am carrying, angel. It’s like putting on pants. I just do it.”

  “You and Garrett,” she said. Then she waved her hand. “All of you, really. Every one of those badasses that hang out at Garrett’s place and watch football. There were probably more weapons in that room a couple of weeks ago than there are in a gun shop.”

  “Probably.”

  Brooke sighed. “I hate guns. I hate that people feel the need to carry them. I wish they would all go away.”

  “They won’t. There are too many jobs that depend on manufacturing them, too many weapons already in the pipeline, and too many in the hands of law-abiding citizens and criminals alike. You can’t get rid of them. They’re here to stay.”

  “We’ll have to disagree on that,” she said primly.

  “Have you ever shot a gun?”

  “No.”

  “You should try it. It’s not so scary when you get the right training. And it’d be another way to protect yourself. Max and a sweet little Sig Sauer P938—that’s a compact nine mil. You’d be set with that.”

  She frowned. “I don’t know. I’m not comfortable with the idea.”

  “If you ever want to learn, I’ll teach you.”

  “I guess you’re pretty good with a weapon, huh?”

  He didn’t let his mind wander to the innuendo side of that statement, though he really wanted to. “I’m an expert marksman, angel. I have to be. I can take out a target with my eyes closed if I have to.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”

  “It is possible. We drill it until it’s second nature. There’s no room for almost good enough or maybe next time in battle.”

  She shuddered, and he thought maybe this topic had gone as far as it needed to. “You want that omelet or what?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He turned to go.

  “Cade?”

  “Yeah, angel?”

  “I said I hate guns. I don’t hate you. I just… Sometimes I think about what it is you do, and it scares me.”

  He gave her a smile. And then he told her the truth, because it was the only thing he could do. “It scares me sometimes too.”

  Chapter 9

  Brooke took a quick shower while Cade went to fix her breakfast, then dressed in jeans and a long-sleeve fitted top that hugged her breasts and tapered down to her waist. It was a flattering outfit, and she chose it on purpose.

  She wanted to feel good about herself, and she wanted to stop thinking about Scott and the man she’d seen in the hallway. It wasn’t very likely, but she was determined to try.

  She was still reeling from the fact Scott had worked for a firearms company and never told her. He knew she’d been abducted and threatened with a gun and he knew how she felt about them. That had to be why, of course, but it bothered her more than it probably should. He’d kept trying to move them forward in a relationship, but he’d hidden something pretty significant from her. Not that she would have expected him to quit a job or not take a job in the first place because of her. But she would have liked to have known.

  Besides, it didn’t bode well for a relationship if people weren’t truthful. And he had not been truthful with her.

  Oh, like you were truthful with him? Told him everything about your ordeal?

  A flash of heat rolled through her. No, she hadn’t told him everything, but that was different. She hadn’t told anyone except a therapist—though she’d hadn’t told Dr. Higgs quite everything either—and what good had that done her? She was still a mess and still dealing with nightmares and cold sweats from time to time.

  And then there was that whole thing where she’d refused to speak to Cade on the phone because of her phobias. Now that he was here, she was a little angry with herself for keeping him at a distance the past couple of weeks. She’d liked him via text. She liked him even more in person.

  He’d been just the person she needed to call last night. He’d taken charge and taken care of her, and while she’d still been scared, she realized it hadn’t been nearly as bad as it would have been if she’d had to come home alone.

  Brooke put the final touches on her makeup and then went into the kitchen where Cade was just finishing the food. She had to stop and admire his ass in his camouflage uniform pants for a long moment. He probably didn’t have anything else to change into since he hadn’t planned to stay overnight anywhere. The tan T-shirt he wore clung to his broad back, delineating muscles she hadn’t known existed until that moment. His biceps bulged as he did something on the stove. He had some ink on his arms, just enough to be sexy as sin as his muscles rippled beneath the skin.

  When he turned, he had a pan in one hand and a spatula in the other, and Brooke thought she might just be in heaven. He faltered for a second, his gaze going straight to her breasts and the deep vee of her top. She usually got mad when a guy looked at her boobs instead of her face, but she could forgive Cade because of all the naughty things they’d sexted to each other.

  “Wow,” he said as he slid the omelet onto a plate.

  She sank onto a barstool and tried not to giggle and flip her hair. She failed. “So, are you a boob man?”

  “You know I am, angel. How many pictures have you sent me of your cleavage? How many times have I asked for more?”

  “A few.”

  “Yeah, a few.” He set the pan in the sink and started buttering toast. Then he put two slices on her plate and refilled her coffee while she cut into the omelet. Oh, she could so get used to this. A hot, sexy man fixing breakfast for her?

  Yes, please.

  “Mmm, it’s yummy,” she said as she took a bite of the egg, cheese, and ham concoction.

  “Good.”

  He did the dishes while she ate. Another point in his favor. She’d been afraid if she started talking to him for real that he somehow wouldn’t be as wonderful as he was in text. She’d been wrong. So far he was the same man she’d grown to like over the past couple of weeks.

  Funny, thoughtful, flirtatious, and alpha to his core. She’d wondered if that alpha quality would turn her off when push came to shove, but it hadn’t. His take-charge attitude was precisely what she needed right now.

  And then there was the fact he was just so hot. Like superhot with all those muscles and his dark hair and stormy eyes. He was pleasant to look at and he made her feel safe. Something which she was seriously in need of right now.

  Scott’s death had rattled her. The stran
ge man she’d seen in the hallway had haunted her dreams last night, and now the media was putting his description out there. It frightened her, but she was also logical enough to realize a couple of things. First, he’d been captured on the security cameras the building used. And second, coming after her specifically made no sense in light of that fact. She didn’t need to identify him because he would be identified on the video.

  Her phone blared, making her jump. Grace’s name was on the screen. If Grace had seen the news, then making her go to voice mail would only result in a visit, which Brooke did not want. She answered as sunnily as she could.

  “Hi, Gracie.”

  “Oh my God, Brooke! I just heard on the news about your neighbor! Why didn’t you call me?”

  No way was Brooke telling her everything. “Why? There was nothing you could do. He’s dead and they’re looking for the person who did it.”

  “But his apartment! It happened in his apartment. Did you hear anything? See anything?”

  Brooke made eye contact with Cade. He frowned but didn’t say anything. She rolled her eyes to let him know she wasn’t rattled by the conversation with her bestie.

  “No,” she fibbed. “I was out with Max when it happened, so I didn’t hear anything. Didn’t see anything either.”

  “Do you want me to come over? I can be there in half an hour.”

  “No, you don’t have to do that. I’m fine.”

  “You could come here. Stay for a few days.”

  “Grace, I’m fine. I have Max. We’re good.”

  “But honey, it was right next door. I know you’re being brave, but this has to have brought up some bad feelings.”

  Brooke tamped down on the frustration and fear that began to boil inside her. “I’m fine, Grace. Really. Scott’s murder has nothing to do with me.”

  She’d never actually told her friend she’d gone on a couple of dates with Scott. She hadn’t wanted to get Grace’s hopes up that she was turning a corner, so she’d kept it to herself. Good thing she had.

  “I’m coming over. It’s no problem. I can bring an overnight bag and stay for as long as you need.”