Close Cover Google, page 14
part #68 of Masters and Mercenaries Series
And still he had things to say to her. He put a hand on her belly, keeping them connected. “And still, after the moment is done, I would stay with you because the after with you is as sweet as the during, more meaningful than the before because we are one.”
She looked down, staring at that place where his hand rested possessively on her belly. “Because we are one.”
Tears rolled from her eyes, but it was all about feeling. She felt. He felt, and it was good.
“You can have the puppy,” a low voice said. “You can have all the puppies.”
Kai had his wife out of her suspension and wrapped around his body. He lifted her up and started out of the room, kissing her even as he headed for the privacy rooms. His hands moved over her, holding her close and making obvious his passion for her.
“Hey, what’s up with the poetry stuff? Is that like spoken word Cajun version?” Adam Miles asked.
Big Tag’s hand came out, smacking the back of his head. “Hush, Charlie liked it.”
Charlotte was draped over her husband’s lap, her head in the crook of his neck, and Big Tag was whispering something to her. Something that made her glow and cuddle close. Whatever he said made her kiss his jawline and say something back.
Serena frowned at Adam and shifted closer to Jake. “It was beautiful.”
Adam turned a nice shade of red. “Sorry. I didn’t get all the talky parts.”
Jake grinned and settled their wife firmly on his lap. “I love it when I’m the smart one. Remy, you know every dude in the company is coming to you now to write our Valentine’s cards.”
Damn. It was a good thing he was leaving soon.
“Get your own poet, ladies,” Lisa said. “This one is mine.”
He moved back reluctantly. He was hers. For now. He had to find a way to make that time count.
Chapter Seven
“What can I get for you?” She grinned at Remy as he settled onto the barstool three nights later.
Damn that man was fine. She wondered if she would ever get used to how hot he was. Maybe if they stayed together for many, many years she would, but that wasn’t going to happen. She feared she would go to her grave with him perfect in her brain.
Remy smiled, his lips curling into that half grin that made her a little breathless. “Get me a beer, ma crevette. How’s your evening going? Is Top treating you well?”
“I love it.” The people were all great. Javier Leones was the acting head chef and he ran a tight, but happy ship. She loved the family atmosphere. Every night after service they sat and ate together before cleaning up the place. No one did that in corporate America. No one cared. “I think I’m going to gain ten pounds this week though. Macon has been stress baking and I’m his go-to girl. Have you ever had bread pudding made with Krispy Kreme donuts? Because I did. I’m a little hopped up on sugar, babe.”
“I can tell,” he replied with a wink.
She grabbed a chilled stein and started the pour. “Did I mention how happy I am to have a job?”
“You might have a couple of times,” he replied with a wink that reminded her she’d paid him back in orgasms. “I’m happy to see you happy.”
She slid the stein in front of him. “Are you closing on the wharf tomorrow?”
His expression dimmed. “Yes. Uhm, it’s at three tomorrow. I’ll sign everything and it’ll be overnighted to the firm in Louisiana that’s handling the sale. It won’t take too long. I’ll be able to bring you to work. Don’t worry about that.”
Bittersweet. That was what this time would be. There were only so many days between them and it lent something primal to the time they did have. She wasn’t going to hide from it. She wasn’t going to pretend it wouldn’t happen. She would be grateful that she’d had this time where this amazing man had wanted her, had taken such sweet care of her. “I wasn’t worried. I want to make sure you don’t miss your meeting though. I understand how much making everything legal means to you. I don’t want you to be late. Linc can come and get me.”
A single brow rose over Remy’s eyes. “Linc? Why would he pick you up?”
Linc walked up, winking her way. He moved behind the bar. He was six foot four inches of pure ex-Special Forces, heavily accented with the PTSD crazy. Linc had light brown hair and broad shoulders and could probably be considered gorgeous, but now she compared everyone to Remy and no one could match. “I’ll be happy to pick Lisa up. I will absolutely make sure she gets to work on time.”
Remy was suddenly sitting up straighter than he had before.
But she had to think about him. Linc could get her to work one day this week. “He’s got a very important meeting tomorrow and I’ve got the dinner shift, but I can come in early if I need to. Do you mind?”
Linc put a hand on her shoulder. “Not a problem. I’m thrilled to have you here. I’ve missed you.”
“From training class,” Remy said, proving he hadn’t forgotten a thing she’d said. After their scene, he hadn’t mentioned it again.
That scene. God, she couldn’t get her head off it. Never in her life had she felt as connected to another human being than she had when Remy had wrapped her up and spoken those sweet words to her. She’d been his art, his words a natural result of what their bodies felt. They’d been so peaceful afterward, she’d kind of forgotten he’d been jealous.
Linc pulled out the cocktail shaker as Tiffany, one of the waitresses, dropped off an order. “Training class. Sweet days, my man. I will tell you that there was never a better day than when I got paired up with Lisa. You know what it’s like. You’re standing there feeling awkward in those leathers, praying you don’t get the chick with the crazy eyes. And then whoop, there crazy eyes is and she turns out to be pretty awesome.”
She slapped at his arm. “I do not have crazy eyes.”
Linc had been the best time. They’d made an agreement that first day that they were going to have fun during their training time and go their separate ways. Not once had she regretted that. Certainly not now. He was funny and sweet and not for her. They’d had fun in bed, figuring out what they liked and what they didn’t as a top and a bottom, but that had been the extent of their chemistry.
When she thought about it, it was a bit like what she’d done with Remy. She’d known she and Linc would end, but she’d been okay with it. Not once had she cried over him. She didn’t dream at night that he somehow changed his mind and took her with him when their time was up. They’d shaken hands at the end of training class. Oh, they’d also joked that if they were still without permanent partners in five years, they would take each other back, but that was all a joke. Her backup Dom.
“Yeah, Lisa and I got paired up that first night and we kind of clicked. You know how it is when you meet someone you fit with. Nice and easy. No drama,” Linc replied. “It’s so weird because I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until she walked in that door. It’s really great to have her here, you know.”
“I know how much I like having her in my life,” Remy said, his voice careful. “And that’s why I’ll make sure she gets to work on time. I can manage it, but thanks for offering to watch out for her.”
Linc nodded. “No problem. I’ll have plenty of chances to help out when you’re gone. I hear you’re heading back to Louisiana soon. The good news is, you won’t have to worry about Lisa because she’ll have a family here who will be happy to look after her.”
She watched as Remy’s hand closed around his beer and she prayed he didn’t break the glass, but what exactly was she supposed to say? He was leaving. It made her heart ache, but he hadn’t mentioned some miraculous change of plans. He was leaving her behind and she would need a ride. The train stop was a couple of blocks away and she worked late some nights. She wasn’t going to start up with Linc again, but she would take a ride from him if he didn’t mind.
Remy’s jaw went tight and she was almost sure he was going to start an argument when something caught his eye. He turned slightly and looked over at the lobby. “There she is.”
Lisa looked up and her day took a deep dive. She wasn’t sure who the woman was, though she looked vaguely familiar. Blonde hair and perfect makeup, the woman was tall and model skinny, a designer briefcase in her hand and sky-high heels on her feet.
But the man she was with, oh, Lisa knew who he was. Matthew Scarsdale, federal prosecutor. He was in his late forties and was every bit as labeled up as his female counterpart. Lisa recognized a designer suit when she saw one. Bridget forced Will into Brooks Brothers and Armani whenever she could. Mitch had his Tom Ford suits fitted to his big body.
Remy Guidry would probably never wear a suit and she was perfectly fine with that. He looked better in a T-shirt and jeans, and the brilliant part was if he didn’t like to dress up, she didn’t have to. It was exhausting and she liked shorts and tank tops way more. That was what she needed. A job that required shorts and sneakers and let her sleep in late.
She forced herself to stay at the bar when what she really wanted to do was walk away. Why the hell was her worst nightmare here? Okay, maybe her worst nightmare was that assassin dude, but anything that reminded her of the ax hanging over her head was bad.
“You, little brunette girl who needs mascara, I want a martini and I want it properly prepared. Do you understand what that means?” the super-aggressive woman asked as she set her briefcase on the bar.
Oh, like she’d never dealt with overly aggressive power women before. “Yep. It means you pretty much want me to put some ice in a cocktail shaker, wave a closed bottle of vermouth over the cocktail shaker, pour out the ice, and fill a martini glass with vodka and we’ll call it a martini. I’m betting no olives, but you do know a twist of lemon is pretty and contains no calories.”
The other woman practically purred as she looked Lisa over. “I take back the mascara part. The natural look is good on you, honey. And yes to everything. And I do mean everything.”
“Mine, Maia,” Remy growled.
Oh, shit. The infamous Maia Brighton. That had to be who she was dealing with. She’d heard the tales of the groping DA. Maia Brighton was on a high-powered career path, had turned sexual harassment into a fine art, and she didn’t discriminate.
A lot of people talked about her time at Sanctum.
“I think that chick is hitting on you,” Linc whispered as she started the martini.
“I think she hits on everyone.” Lisa looked at Matthew. “Is there something I can get for you, Mr. Scarsdale? I take it this isn’t a date.”
Maia laughed. “Oh, honey, Matty here has a major stick up his ass, and not in a kinky way. In a weird Mommy-didn’t-love-me way. He’s married but I’m fairly certain she’s a cover for his illicit love for a blowup doll who might or might not be male.”
“Excuse me?” Scarsdale said, his face going a florid red. The man might have been attractive if he hadn’t had that perpetually pinched look on his face.
Maia waved him off. “Don’t worry, hon. The psych eval is free.” She winked at Lincoln. “And your friend is right. I hit on everyone. Well, everyone I find attractive. This is my favorite restaurant because I swear Sean Taggart doesn’t hire unattractive men.”
“I thought Taggart made it a habit of hiring ex-soldiers,” Scarsdale said, looking around the place with something like distaste. “The crippled kind. Though I suppose that one doesn’t look too bad.”
He was talking about Linc, who smiled a feral expression that held absolutely no humor. “Oh, don’t let the fact that I’m not scarred fool you. I lose my shit from time to time, and when I’m in the bad place in my head, I like to take it out on whoever happens to be nearby. I won’t mean to kill you. I promise I’ll feel bad about it later.”
Maia reached out and put a hand on Linc’s. “Don’t mind him. He’s an asshole and you know you and your team are the absolute sexiest group of men I’ve ever seen. Those scars are manly as fuck. Too bad you’re all getting married. I heard we lost the sommelier to the pretty blonde.”
Okay, Maia wasn’t all bad. She’d managed to put a smile back on Linc’s face.
“It was a lovely wedding,” Linc said.
“Can I steal your pretty partner for a moment?” Maia asked. “I promised Big Tag I would help move things along for this case the feds fucked up. You know how the feds fuck up, don’t you, honey?”
“I do indeed,” Linc replied. “We’re dead tonight anyway. I’ll be in the back doing inventory. Lisa, call me if anyone shows up.”
He strode off and Maia turned on Scarsdale. “The next time you’re rude to one of these men, I’ll let them have you.”
“You’re one to talk about rude,” Scarsdale shot back.
“I know when to be rude and when to show some damn respect,” she replied. “The men and women who work here gave more than you can imagine so you and I can live our posh lives. Even that one right there who is ready to take me apart because I hit on his precious.” She turned to Remy. “Open your mind a little, Guidry. Three-ways can be fun.”
“My mind is perfectly happy with the kink I already got. One woman is all this poor country boy can handle.” But he was smiling, too. “And I thank you for setting this up. He won’t return my calls.”
Maia took the drink from Lisa. “Someone like this, you have to walk in, grab ’em by the balls, and lead the way.” She took a sip and sighed. “Yes, that’s a martini. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a martini this good?”
It wasn’t. It was just vodka with a twist, but hey, whatever got her through a day.
Remy had planned this? Remy had been calling about her case and he hadn’t once mentioned it?
“I want to know where you are on the Vallon case.” Remy got straight to the point.
Scarsdale huffed, scowling Maia’s way. “I guess you don’t want to talk about that job. This was some kind of setup?”
Maia shrugged. “I’m perfectly happy where I am. My office actually tries to prosecute criminals. Now answer the question or you’ll be the one looking for a job. Don’t think I don’t have some power with your office. I assure you I have shit on some of your bosses that would make you blush, Matty. Now spill. Are you going to re-file the case or not?”
Scarsdale sank onto his barstool. “I don’t know. If it’s up to me, absolutely not. It’s a losing case because the local cops fucked up.”
“I’m surprised because DPD is usually quite careful,” Maia said, suspicion plain in her eyes.
“Not this time,” Scarsdale replied. “Apparently the officer got a call from her babysitter about a break-in at her home. She panicked and raced there. There was a burglary of her house that night and her young daughter was injured, though it was minor. The books were left on the front seat of her squad car, and there’s proof that she didn’t lock the vehicle.”
“She was terrified for her child,” Lisa pointed out. If it had been one of her nephews, she would have flipped out, too. “You can’t expect her to ignore that.”
Scarsdale shrugged, still holding his briefcase like he expected to need it as a shield any moment. “This is why I don’t particularly think women should be cops. A man would have done his duty. Anyway, the defense argued that leaving the books in the open at another crime scene broke the chain of custody. And something was definitely done to those books. Several pages were missing.”
“That’s interesting,” Remy said, his fingers drumming along the bar.
She supposed she couldn’t expect him to not look into the case. He was a bodyguard by trade, but he’d done some PI work as well. He worked for a security and investigation firm. If he hadn’t shown some concern about what was going on with her case, she would know he was truly only interested in sex. The fact that he was looking into it, spending time on her when she couldn’t pay him a dime had to mean something, right?
Because she was a stupid girl and she was already wondering why they had to have an expiration date. Louisiana wasn’t that far away, after all. It was about eight hours in a car, and by plane? Well, by plane there was only an hour between New Orleans and Dallas.
She’d started to think a lot about where Remy’s family lived.
“So you can see why I don’t think it’s a good idea to retry the case,” Scarsdale said.
“I’m interested in who broke into the officer’s house,” Remy said quietly.
“You would have to ask DPD,” Scarsdale replied. “That’s not in my purview.”
“Oh, I think I will ask some questions.” Remy sat back. “So Vallon’s back in business?”
“We still have his accounts frozen.” The prosecutor adjusted his glasses. “But we can only keep them for another few days. We have to make a decision.”
“It sounds like you’ve already made your decision.” Maia downed the last of her martini and gestured for another.
“There’s some argument in the office. My second believes that the girl here would make a good witness. Apparently she remembers numbers quite well,” Scarsdale said. “One of the pages that ended up missing had a series of numbers that might or might not have been accounts.”
“Oh, they were accounts.” Lisa was happy to have something to do with her hands. “I’m pretty sure they were Cayman accounts. I could write them down for you.”
Scarsdale looked slightly ill. He stepped back from the bar. “No. It wouldn’t help anything at all. No one is going to believe some waitress can remember numbers like that.”
“She’s an accountant,” Remy shot back. “With a master’s degree. I think she can handle a few numbers.”
Scarsdale stood up, his shoulders straightening. “Well, I think it’s a bust and law enforcement moved too quickly, and all on the word of a twenty-nine-year-old working on her first big job. If we lose this case, it makes my whole office look soft. I’m not willing to risk that. Now, if you have any other questions, I hope you’ll refer them to my admin.”
Remy stood up, too, getting in Scarsdale’s way. “And what about her? What about Lisa? She’s the only one who can corroborate those books. Why wouldn’t Vallon come after her?”
