Garrison's Creed (Titan) Page 9
“The hell you are.”
“I already told the CIA and Jared I’d do it. We’re going after the butler.”
“No,” he growled.
“Yes.”
“Fucking Jared.” That’s what she said. Wasn’t he listening? He slapped the steering wheel, then threw the truck into gear.
“Cash, calm down. Why are you mad? This is my job! This is my assignment.”
“Nic, you can’t do this shit. You can’t go running around with guns and spies and infiltrate fucking arm dealing networks. You cannot. End of discussion.”
And there it was. He didn’t trust her to work for no other reason that he didn’t think she should be in the field. She knew it. Tears stung behind her eyes. Her throat was raw, and she tried like hell to swallow the boulder, but couldn’t. “Why?”
It came out as a whisper. He hated her. He didn’t trust her. Now, he wouldn’t respect her on the job. Her mind and her body hurt from the rejection. Her biggest fear and the truest love slammed together. Pain overwhelmed her thoughts.
If he was speaking, she didn’t hear it. She only noticed that they’d started toward the bonfire again. Cash parked, jumped out, and left her alone in the truck with all of her insecurities.
***
This is what it would be like to hang out at a superhero convention? Nicola nursed her beer and watched. They were all dressed head-to-toe in varying versions of tactical gear. Tight shirts, pants with too many pockets. She was sure there was enough firepower to invade a small country stashed in their vehicles.
Roman hovered over her for a while, checking in and presumably fending off anyone who might want to talk to her. Typical overprotective Roman. It almost felt good, familiar, to have him breathing down her neck, glaring at anyone with testosterone. Cash worked the crowd with his lazy laugh, ignoring her, and the rest of the Titan men filled their roles by shotgunning beers and chowing down on barbeque.
Jared walked over to her with two beers in his hand. Her butt was numb from sitting on Cash’s tailgate, and she was a tad lonely. Yeah, she’d talked to Roman. But there was very much an invisible line drawn around her. No one approached her without what looked like an okay from Roman, although Jared didn’t look as if he’d asked for or cared about the Roman go-ahead.
Maybe she was the problem, looking like she held a sign that said Beware: I bite. Or maybe, I came back from the dead. Who knew?
“How goes it, princess?”
“How goes it…” She needed a name for him too, and dickhead wasn’t going to work in front of his men. “Twinkle Toes?”
He would have reacted, she thought, but he was too alpha to show the flicker of surprise. “You got jokes. Beer?” He held out a fresh one.
She raised her beer. Its label had long ago been peeled off. “Still got this one.”
“So finish it.”
Jared was growing on her. She turned the bottle up and drained the last drops of the warm beer. She’d had it in hand too long. Yuck. A chilled longneck would be good. “Done.”
“Good girl. Here.”
She nodded her thanks, appreciative for anything that would lessen the buzzing feelings in her head. If Jared had handed her a horse tranq, she might have tried to kiss the grumbling jerk. “I needed this.”
“I see brother and sister are reunited and acting brotherly-sisterly. You and Roman cool?”
“Of course. He’s pretty forgiving or, at least, not as much of a bastard as you might think.”
“Good. So what’s the deal with you and Cash?”
“Why?”
“Something came up. I can’t partner with you on Operation Smoke-‘Em-Out, and I need a man working with you.”
“I don’t need a man.”
“Not what I meant. All I got is men. I need a person working with you.”
“I work fine by myself.”
“I’m not a work-on-an-island kinda guy. You get a partner, or you lose the job.”
“Fine. Whoever will do.” She shrugged like she really didn’t care and looked over his shoulder.
“Actually, not fine. No one will work with you.”
“Like I said—”
“You’re hard-headed like Roman. Great. Fuckin’ fantastic. Roman doesn’t trust himself to work with his little sister. I talked to him. He won’t do it.”
“He’s a moron.”
“Right. And Rocco must have spread the word, ‘cause him and two other guys I wanted to partner you with won’t. Hell, they won’t work with you to save their lives.”
“I’m a good agent—”
“It has nothing to do with that. It has to do with Cash. So spill it, woman. What do I need to know?”
“We dated before I left.”
“You loved him?”
Nic rolled her eyes toward the bonfire, taking in Cash’s amazing silhouette. “And how is that your business?”
“Everything’s my business when it comes to my ops. Let’s try this. You love him now?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Can you keep it in your pants?”
She shot her gaze back to him. “Christ, Jared.”
“That wasn’t an answer.” He laughed.
“He and I are fine. We’re not jumping into bed. Not confusing the past and the present. But I’m not working with him.”
“Yeah, you are.” He looked so certain.
“Nope.”
“No choice.” He laughed again, and it was more irritating each time he did the cough-grumble thing he used as laughter. “You don’t partner well, do you?”
“Cash won’t do it either.”
“I have a feeling he would jump at the chance to—”
All right, that strategy went down fast. Try, try, try again. “We’ll distract each other. Not a good idea.”
“So, you’re walking away, princess? Didn’t take you as a quitter.”
“God—”
“That works much better. God. It has a good ring to it. Better than Twinkle Toes.”
“Jared—”
“Okay. Jared or God. Your choice.”
“Would you shut up?”
“I like you, princess.”
“Fine. Cash. I’ll do it. Go away.”
“I knew you’d see it my way. Don’t forget to grab some potato salad. Mia Winters can cook like you wouldn’t believe.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jealousy. It wasn’t a logical response, but Cash fought back a growl, wanting to physically remove Jared from Nicola’s proximity. She sat on the tailgate to his truck. Her long legs dangled, and the bonfire light danced across her skin. No doubt about it, Cash was jealous. His fists bunched in his jeans pockets, but he knew he wasn’t hiding his reaction from anyone.
He threw a piece of meat to Winters’s dog. The pup had been running around the fire soliciting donations like he was starving to death. Winters swore he fed the mutt. Cash laughed. He knew better than to think that Mia, Winters’s wife, would let the dog go hungry.
“Hey, asshole. Don’t give the dog any more food.” That’d been Winters’s line all night long. Too freakin’ bad. He should feed his dog.
“Call me asshole again, the pup gets beans. And Mia told me the dog sleeps next to you.”
Roman sidled up to Cash and joined him in throwing scraps to the dog. “So Nicola drove out with you?”
“Yup.” This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with Roman in front of the guys. Hell, he didn’t want to have it at all. The girl was throwing him an ice-cold shoulder, and he wasn’t at all sure why he cared. Except for the whole maybe he still cared for her thing. But other than that…
“I’ve calmed down about you two back in the day. It was more than what you said? You know. The other night.”
“Yup.” He picked up his beer and drained it. Maybe they were standing too close to the bonfire. He started to sweat a little.
“Huh.” Roman genuinely sounded at a loss for words, which was unlike the guy.
Cas
h grabbed a fresh beer from the cooler behind them. “You going to ask more questions or something? Or are we done talking about me and her?”
“You two really done?”
Well, shit. If that wasn’t the question, he didn’t know what was. “Not sure I want it to be.”
“Huh.”
Cash cracked half a smile. “Yeah, how about that?”
“Well, then maybe you should do something about boss man leaning into our girl and her giggling. It’s enough to make me sick.”
It didn’t take much of a push. His boots were moving before he realized he was closing in on her. Why? Something to prove? Something to say? Who knew? Maybe he wanted to be closer and make sure no one thought she was a free agent. But then again, she was. Shit, he had no claims to her. Even if there was a flicker of interest in her eyes.
What he felt was more than a flicker. Too bad he still couldn’t catch his breath.
He walked up as Jared said his goodbye. “What’s up with you and boss man?”
“Shop talk.”
“Great.” His brows furrowed. Not what he wanted to hear, but it was better than Jared throwing lines, ’cause he’d have to throw punches. It wouldn’t be good for his employee review. Well, if they had things like that. “What would you do if life hadn’t pushed you toward the CIA?”
“What do you mean?”
He perched beside her on the tailgate. “Like, if you finished studying linguistics in college. Maybe you’d be a teacher or something? A professional translator?”
She laughed, a beautiful sound that churned his guts. “What’s funny?”
“Cash, I’d be here. Doing the same thing.”
“No—”
“Yeah, I would. I love this. I’m good at it. There’s nothing else I want to do.”
She was almost finished with the beer Jared’d brought her. He should’ve done something smart like that.
“But you’re—I don’t know—home, for lack of a better word.”
“I wasn’t lost. I’m not the prodigal daughter returned.”
“But you’re—”
She rolled her eyes. “I’d be doing the same thing, whether I stumbled upon you and Roman or not.”
“Why didn’t you call us? Once you knew everything was okay? I mean, come on, you live so damn close. Why not—”
“It’s not worth all the questions. I wasn’t allowed. I don’t have the same last name anymore. I don’t have the same Social Security number or background. It’s all manufactured. There are a million places I could be in the world. Just because I’m based near here doesn’t mean that’s where I live.”
“What’s your last name?”
She paused, then took a long draw off the bottle. “Garrison.”
Sucker punch to the dome, and he was almost lights out. “What?”
“I’m embarrassed, if you want the truth. I got to pick. It was the only other last name I ever wanted. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Certainly not have to explain it to you.”
His mind ran round, his thoughts speeding like a car chase. “You’re killing me.”
“Look, Cash. Don’t worry about me. I’ll do this job and be out of here.”
He stood and leaned back against the side of his truck, wrapping his arms over his chest, trying, willing the words to stay in his head where they should be. “I don’t want you doing this, Nic.” He said it. A little louder than he intended. So much for keeping private thoughts private.
“Big surprise. But it’s never been your call, and it’s not now.”
“It’s not safe.” That was the most important reason he had in the quit-your-day-job arsenal. She needed to walk away from the gun play.
Her body language clearly didn’t agree. “It’s not safe for you either,” Nicola countered.
“I’m trained. I can—”
She recoiled. “You think I’m not?”
“No.” His voice rose, frustration igniting his words. She wasn’t having any of his reasoning. “I don’t.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Not my fault, is it?” God, she made him want to shake her. Or pin her against the wall. Either would do right now.
“We’re throwing down in front of everyone again.” Nicola gestured to Rocco, who tuned in like they were a reality show in the making. “Should’ve aired your grievance earlier, when I gave you the chance in the truck.”
He glared at the guys, tugged on her good elbow. “Come with me.”
“No way.”
His hands itched for something to do. He gnawed on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something he’d regret. It wasn’t killing off the urge. He threw a handful of Altoids into his mouth. Still no help. “Nicola, I don’t have time for this.”
“Guess what, Cash. Jared just partnered you and me together. You’ll get to see how good I am.”
He froze, cemented to the ground. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” She laughed. “Now what are you going to do?”
“Fix it.” There was no way she was going out in the field with him.
“Oh, hell no.”
“Watch me.”
“Cash, stop it.”
Cash looked at Rocco, who was now flanked by his buddies Winters and Brock. They all smiled, enjoying the hell out of this. Good Christ. “Let’s go. We have to talk. In private.”
“Don’t feel like it.”
He scooped her off the tailgate, threw her over his shoulder, and stalked off. The background noise was littered with laughter and jokes. It didn’t matter. He was sick of this BS. Nicola wasn’t going to get herself killed on his watch.
He rounded the hood of his truck, and her hands wrapped around his neck, digging a grave into his carotid artery. Her bad arm had a helluva grip.
Damn it.
He had her at a bad angle. The only way he could pull her loose was to slam her against the truck or drop her to the ground. She wasn’t playing nice either. She was out to prove her point. He twisted his neck, testing her handhold. It was strong. Maybe she was trained. Trained well, for that matter.
Nicola hissed in his ear. “Think again, if you think I’m not. You embarrass me, I’ll embarrass you. I’ll drop your ass in front of all your boys. Give me six more seconds, and you’re lights out.”
Truth was, she was right. Unless he pulled some kind of defensive measure, her vise-lock on his neck would take him down.
Here goes nothing.
He dropped forward, cradling the back of her head before they slammed to the ground. He absorbed the impact with his other arm around her back, pressing her to him. They crunched into the grass. His knees were on either side of her thighs. Her breaths were fast, and her hair splayed in the grass like a blonde halo. Her cheeks flushed, and she was the most beautiful woman he’d set eyes on.
Years ago.
Right now.
It made no difference.
Cash leaned over. Nose to nose, eyes locked. Lavender and flowers were all he could smell. She was all he could see. The electrified air zipped and zapped around them, pushing them together. Heat poured off her long frame. Her quick breaths kissed his lips, the way he so desperately wanted to kiss her.
Never had a woman grabbed hold of his spinning world and stopped it cold. Just him and her, suspended in time. Never had he focused on wanting a kiss like the one he was about to take. Her chocolate eyes didn’t blink. She watched, waited. Anticipated.
He pushed through the minute fraction of charged space between them, brushing his lips over her plump bottom one, instantly drawing his eyelids closed to savor her. Soft velvet, tasting like sugar.
The brim of his cowboy hat sheltered them. His mouth opened and caressed her top lip. Her mouth parted on a breath, and his tongue dipped into their kiss, living the daydream that had stolen his mind.
She sighed into him. An eruption of goose bumps trailed down his spine, tapering their descent at the small of his back and rushing blood to his groin. Every muscle tig
htened as if awaiting a command for action, but all he could do was repeat: bottom lip, top lip, both lips together.
Nicola relaxed, chin reaching up, tongue stroking his. Her hands slid up his neck, and she clasped his cheeks in her palms, pulling him to her. Sweet and hungry.
She was familiar, flared with something exciting and new to be explored and relished.
He nibbled her soft kiss, then paused. “I never thought anything would feel like that again.”
His lips were still against hers, and he felt the smile melt onto the face he memorized years ago. The girl next door, turned into the woman who promised his dreams could come true. He knew every facet, every expression. Even if it had been years, her smile was pure warmth, soothing the animosity that confused him.
“Kiss me again,” she whispered.
As if she had to ask. He rolled them to the side, running his hand through her hair, letting the silk slide through his fingers. The grass was cold, tickling and biting his skin, momentarily reminding him they laid on the ground at his buddy’s house. But fuck it. They were far enough away, and nothing could have stopped him from kissing her at her command.
Cash wrapped Nicola into his embrace. She nuzzled, kissing up his neck.
“I missed you, sweet girl.” He took her mouth, possessive and entirely focused on the little sounds she purred. She clung to him, a long leg kicked over his thigh. The whip of her tongue shocked his senses, ricocheting his nerve endings to the tips of his toes. Her breasts pushed into him, and his mind fast-forwarded to where they could be, how they could be.
“Stop.” She pushed back hard, surprising him straight out of his kiss clouded mindset.
What just went wrong? Floored. He was floored. Literally on the ground, as she dusted herself off and jumped upright, and figuratively, dumbstruck.
Never. Ever. Not once had a woman walked away from him when they were warming up. Not that much could go down in the grass and in front of God and co-workers, but still. He hadn’t a clue.
Instead of jumping up, he rolled back onto his back, propped up on his forearms, not particularly caring who saw his hard-on, and pulled his hat over his face. Neither embarrassed nor hiding, he was just plain confused. But her footsteps didn’t walk away. She stood there. One pointy-toed shoe bouncing in a pissed off allegro.