Accidental Trifecta (2 page)

Carl Phillips looked around Kyle and Kent West’s large office. Christ, the room was bigger than his last off-base apartment. Most of the team was present—seated in various spots around the room, including their single female member. But if Carl was going to place bets, he would bet Jen McCall would be darting out of the room at any moment. It was fairly obvious the stunning blonde was pregnant, but as far as he knew, she and her husbands hadn’t made an official announcement yet. When she looked up and saw him looking in her direction, she made a half-assed attempt to smile, but it was as if she was afraid to move any more than necessary. He remembered hearing about Gracie McDonald’s pregnancy, evidently it had been a torturous ride, and he hoped Jen’s went smoother.

Most of the men lounging around the cavernous room had been in the Special Forces at the same time, and Carl had served with most of them. He considered every man in the room a friend—but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to turn down this assignment if the scuttlebutt he’d been hearing was true. He didn’t know Dr. Cecelia Barnes, nor did he wish her to come to harm, but the thought of being in the same room with Cameron Barnes again sent pinpricks of something to close to fear racing through him. His fear wasn’t of the man himself, it was of who Carl had once been in his presence, and Carl was smart enough to avoid exposing his throat to a wolf more than once.

As he sat to the side watching everything unfold, Carl tried to sort through his feelings, but they were such a muddled mess it was difficult. He understood the excited adrenaline-fueled anxiety that accompanied particularly dicey missions, hell, he’d thrived on that high during his years as a SEAL. But this was something else entirely. This was a jolt of pure awareness, and it was far more dangerous.

Carl had spent the better part of his entire adult life trying to push Cameron Barnes from his memories…struggling to not let the man’s face surface in his mind when his best friend, Peter Weston, was near. As an empath, Peter often heard or saw what was happening in the minds of those near him, particularly anyone with whom he shared a particular bond. Carl had worked hard over their years as partners to build a fortress around his memories of Cameron. But he wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to maintain that mental shield if he folded under Kyle West’s skillful manipulation.
God the man missed his calling. He really should have been a fucking politician.

Kyle was presenting the case information in the straightforward, no nonsense way they were all accustomed to, but his eyes kept darting toward Carl. The pictures on the large screen to Kyle’s right showed pictures of Dr. Barnes, her clinic, the home she shared with her family, her husband’s ultra-exclusive sex club, and finally—Cameron Barnes. Just looking at the man’s photograph sent a white-hot surge of electricity up and back down his spine. The heat had literally traveled at the speed of light until settling squarely in his cock.
Just fucking perfect, sit
ting
here thinking about working with one of
my team
leaders’
buddies and
I
sprout a major woody…
just brilliant
,
Phillips.

The final picture was of the Barnes’ sleeping daughter, Chloe. Even though Carl knew his new boss had left the sleeping infant’s picture on the screen deliberately, it didn’t lessen its impact. Cameron Barnes had a dark past…a very dark past tainted by his exposure to the world on a level most people only see in the movies or on the evening news. Cameron had, at one time or another, worked for almost every alphabet agency the United States had ever managed to dream up, not to mention those of more governments than the average American could name. He’d been the “go to guy” for missions requiring such a variety of skills, Cam was often referred to as the MacGyver of the spy world. He was fearless, brilliant, and deadly.

Looking up, Carl met Peter’s gaze and knew in that instant he’d let his guard down for the microsecond his friend had needed. Peter raised a brow in question but didn’t voice the inquiry—he didn’t have to. The intense look on Peter’s face told Carl they would be having the conversation he’d always dreaded—and that it would likely occur sooner rather than later. Peter Weston was one of the least judgmental men Carl had ever known. He'd always wondered if Peter was open-minded because of the overload of information he received every day or because the man’s gift of insight into the hearts and minds of others kept him from judging people harshly until they crossed some “impossible to define” boundary of personal and ethical behavior. Peter Weston’s hypersensitivity to extreme violence kept him out of combat situations most of the time, but his contributions to the intelligence gathering the teams depended on had been immeasurable.

Just as Kyle turned his gaze toward Carl, a quick movement to his left caught everyone’s attention. Jen McCall was standing unsteadily on her feet, her eyes darting around the room as if assessing the most expedient route of escape. Her pretty face had gone a pasty shade of green that made Carl think of the rundown medical facilities of the Middle East. Her hand was pressed firmly against her mouth and beads of sweat popped out over her face and arms right in front of his eyes.
She's
never going to get out of here in time without help.
The thought had no sooner moved through his mind than Sam McCall scooped his petite wife into his arms and made his way quickly out of the office.

His brother stood and flashed everyone a guilty grin. Sage was younger and less intense, and his boyish demeanor often fooled targets into underestimating him, but the man was every bit as deadly in a fight as any operative Carl had ever met. “Guess this confirms the rumors that have been circulating around the club. We’d planned to explain at the end of this meeting why we are pulling out of the assignment, but I think things speak for themselves.” When Sage’s gaze met his, Carl knew he was fucked seven ways to Sunday, “We appreciate the fact we’re a part of a team that is more family-oriented than most. Thanks for stepping up even when I sense for some reason it isn’t going to be easy for you.”

Yeah, you could fucking say that again.
Craptastic.

Sage stepped through the doorway, but stuck his head back in and smiled ruefully, “We’ll give your housekeeper a heads up, and ummm…pay for the rug.” Carl had to hold back his laugh because the man had turned a nice shade of green himself. “Oh, and tell your women she’s seven weeks along—I know they’ll ask and I don’t want twenty text messages.” As soon as the door closed, the room erupted into laughter and the occasional gagging noise. It was good to know their frat mentality was never far below the surface.

*****

Cameron Barnes stared down at the letter laying in the center of his desk, but he wasn’t really seeing it. It didn’t matter, he’d read it so many times he knew each word by heart. He’d known better than to tempt fate by feeling safe. The life he’d led, the enemies he’d made, the demons he’d befriended, wouldn’t be so easily cast aside, and he’d been foolish to think he’d come through it all unscathed. But having it so clearly pointed out had shaken him to his core. Cam had completed missions no other operative would even consider without even hesitating, but his hands had shaken so badly when he’d first opened the messenger’s envelope he’d been forced to place the letter on his desk just to read it.

After alerting his staff and sending additional security to Cecelia’s clinic, Cam had called the only men he trusted with the lives of his wife and child. Their first conversation had been short, as he’d known it would be. Kent and Kyle West had promised to give their team a quick sit-rep and have them on their way within the hour. They hadn’t been sure which two-man team would be coming, and Cam hadn’t thought to ask why until Kyle had called back to let him know help was on the way.

“I’d recommend assigning one man to CeCe and the other to the club. Since there weren’t any direct threats to Chloe, I really believe Adam and Camille can easily protect her, and their vested interest only strengthens their conviction to keep her safe. Let Fischer know we’re sending his brother for a visit. He’ll be able to use their sibling connection as a cover for visiting the club. Peter’s gifts aren’t as strong as Fischer’s, but he is a people magnet and hides his gifts better than his siblings.” Cam agreed. He’d met all three Weston brothers and understood exactly what Kyle was talking about. Peter was far more discreet than either his older or his younger brother, and most people who met him had no idea how much he learned about them from a simple handshake.

Cam knew only a handful of Peter’s commanding officers had known about his abilities, and they’d worked hard to utilize his gifts without compromising his safety. Hell, if
the company
had ever gotten wind of what Peter and his brothers could do, there’d be no end to their recruiting efforts. The only other man who’d been more valuable behind the scenes was Micah Drake. Micah was usually referred to as the computer guru or hacker to the gods—depending on your prospective. Smiling for the first time in hours, Cam couldn’t help but wonder how the Wests had managed to lure so many of the SEAL teams’ best and brightest right out from under the noses of the brass. Cam had offered the Wests his advice on several different
missions
they’d taken since they’d begun contract work. He’d advised them to walk away from a few also.
Too bad you didn’t listen when you were told the same thing.
Perhaps he wouldn’t have brought the dregs of the world to his front door if he’d been thinking about his future instead of continually running from the past.

Now, after all those years spent convincing himself he’d made the right decision by walking away from the man he hadn’t seen since that night twenty-five years ago, they were going to be face to face in a matter of minutes. Cam had known the minute Kyle had said Peter was on his way who the second man was. Peter Weston and Carl Phillips had been partners since BUDs and they’d joined the Wests’ team at the same time, so it was a no-brainer.

Cameron shook his head as he remembered how he’d spent hours convincing the Headmaster that he alone, was responsible for the “isolated incident” and then walked right past his friend without uttering a word. Cam had made certain that by the time Carl returned to their room, he’d be gone. He’d lived off-campus for the last few weeks of school, enlisted in the military, and skipped the graduation ceremony. His family had ignored him for years, and Cam was convinced they’d only “offered” to put aside their differences because of Cecelia. Clearly having a renowned pediatric surgeon in the family had gone miles farther than a mercenary who’d traveled the world, pledging his loyalty to whoever offered him the most lucrative deal. Their offer had been too little and far too late, he hadn’t even returned their call.

Cameron tried very hard to always be honest in his business dealings and even more so in his self-appraisal. He’d done so many things he was proud of, but he’d also done too many that he wished he could forget. One of his biggest regrets had always been not talking to Carl Phillips before leaving St. Andrew’s, he’d owed his friend that much. When he’d learned Carl had refused to let Cam take the blame alone and had been expelled, he’d been angry, but impressed with the young man’s integrity. Carl’s dad had eventually secured his diploma, but the damage to their relationship had been permanent according to mutual friends.

Taking a deep breath, Cameron turned toward the large black steel framed mirror to his side. He’d built a small private sitting room that was only accessible through the hidden door along the side of the enormous piece of glass. Standing on the other side offered a crystal clear view into the office, and he’d used it more times than he could count for various reasons. He planned to use it again when he interviewed nanny candidates, but he’d only needed to schedule one. He’d arranged their meeting for the next day, but that plan appeared to be on hold for now. Damn his timing, he’d been waiting months to find a submissive that would be a good candidate for the position—he hated having a woman in his home that didn’t understand his and Cecelia’s lifestyle.
Hell, I’d do the interview tonight if she happens to show up at the club and is willing.
Above everything else, he hated the fact his sweet slave was becoming all too accustomed to wearing clothing in their home. He’d always insisted she remain naked unless he gave her very specific permission to cover herself. And since most of their friends were also club members, the occasions where he’d let her dress were few and far between.

But today the mirror only had one purpose, reflecting the image of a man Cam barely recognized. The one staring back at him looked exhausted and far older than the one he’d seen there yesterday.
Yeah, seeing pictures of
the two women who are
your heart and soul printed beneath the words recounting your career tends to age people
…quickly.

Turning back to his desk, he leaned back and waited. The irony of his current situation wasn’t lost on him. He sat waiting for the man he’d considered his very best friend…the one he’d walked away from…the one he’d never even looked at as he stalked from Mr. Prick-with-a-Stick-Dick’s office…the man whose friendship had challenged everything Cameron had thought he believed in. He stared across the room with unseeing eyes. The one man he’d let down more than any other, was the same man he was about to entrust with his most sacred possessions. Karma really could be a cruel bitch.

Carl stood outside the door to Cameron Barnes’ office and wondered once again how he’d managed to get himself in such a predicament. Thinking back over the past few hours it was clear he’d been steamrolled by fate once again. He understood why Sam and Sage had pulled out of the op, he would do the same thing if he ever managed to get his life together enough to find a woman willing to put up with his moody self. But understanding the reasons and being happy about it were far different.

The trip to Houston had been relatively quiet. Peter had obviously sensed Carl wasn’t yet ready to talk about the reason he hadn’t wanted to take this assignment, but Carl knew his reprieve would be short-lived. Fischer Weston was an even stronger empath than his older brothers, and his questioning look when they’d shaken hands was all it had taken to remind Carl that shielding wasn’t easy with Fischer. The brothers had taken off for the club’s main room to talk since they would be working together at Dark Desires and Carl had been directed to “Master C’s” office. He’d found the ornate door easily enough—but finding it and being ready to confront the man whose face still haunted him were two entirely different things.

*****

Cam might have
thought
he was ready to see the best friend he’d ever had walk through the door, but his confidence had far outweighed reality. Carl Phillips had been devastatingly handsome at seventeen, but hell, he probably stopped traffic now. He was taller than Cam remembered and his blond hair was slightly darker than it had been twenty-five years ago, but Carl’s eyes were still the same remarkable shade of blue that reminded him of the sparkling waters of the Caribbean Sea. Their greeting was polite but awkward, and the few seconds of silence that followed made Cam appreciate the thousands of times he’d used silence to make subs squirm in their seats.
Yeah, a little taste of my own medicine and it’s damned humbling.

It felt as if the air had been sucked from the room, and a pin dropping to the floor would have easily been heard in the vacuum. Cam’s mind flashed back to their encounters before that fateful night and felt himself freefall into the sensory memory of Carl Phillips. The way his skin felt beneath Cam’s fingertips, the scent of his soap, the way gooseflesh raced over the tan skin covering his back when Cam gripped his narrow waist. Taking a deep breath in an effort to refocus his attention on the present, Cam was relieved to see the man standing in front of him appeared to be as affected by their reunion as he was.

Why had he run? Why hadn’t he stayed and fought for what they’d had? He’d abandoned a young man that had been far more innocent than Cam had been—hell, he’d essentially thrown his friend to the wolves and never looked back. Once again, shame washed over him in a hot wave but he pushed it back because going there wasn’t going to protect Cecelia or Chloe. Standing up, he walked around his desk and shook Carl’s hand. “Thanks for coming. It’s good to see you again.” He gestured to the chair in front of his desk, “Have a seat, can I get you anything to drink?”

Carl shook his head, “No thanks, I’m good. I was happy to help Sam and Sage out, they need to stay with Jen until she’s feeling better.” Cam didn’t miss the less than subtle message that he was here because of his teammates, not to help Cam. Returning to his seat, Cam simply turned the letter he’d been studying all day around and pushed it forward. Carl leaned forward and asked, “Is this a copy or the original? Did you already check it for prints?”

“It’s the original and no I won’t involve the police until I have to.” He gave Carl an assessing look, but the man’s mask of indifference remained solidly in place. The flair of emotion he’d seen in his blue eyes when Carl first stepped through the door had since been shuttered behind the face of a seasoned military operative. Cam suspected the look was also of a former friend who wasn’t going to forgive and forget easily.

“Care to explain why you didn’t at least notify the local authorities? You may regret not laying that groundwork later.”

“Well, I didn’t say they hadn’t been notified, I just don’t want them involved until I don’t have any other options. You and I both know they operate under far more restrictions than we do.” And wasn’t that the understatement of the fucking year. He’d rarely worked inside the U.S. because the red tape involved was staggering, but he had done enough to feel sorry for the men and women who put their lives on the line each and every day despite the quagmire of bureaucratic bullshit they had to work in. Wearing a badge in the United States wasn’t an easy path to follow, despite what most people believed.

There were, in fact, several members of various law enforcement agencies on Dark Desires’ membership roll, and Cam had contacted at least one from each agency after calling Kyle West. The bond between Dominants was strong, Cam knew the men wouldn’t share the information until the time was right, but giving them a heads up would certainly have its advantages. Whoever sent the letter and pictures was likely still nearby, so having more people watching and listening could only help.

Cam wasn’t surprised by Carl’s intensity and focus, but he was surprised by the man’s patience. His friend had obviously learned a lot in the years since they’d been close because he’d been much more spontaneous back then. Cam knew the man’s IQ was well within the range to qualify as a Mensa, but he also knew Carl had never been particularly impressed with that piece of information. The Wests assured Cam that Carl was still one of the best strategist they’d ever met and his ability to solve puzzles was the stuff of military legend. But as a much younger man he’d been plagued by his inability to stay still—watching him now, it was difficult to believe he was the same man.

Cam had scanned the file Jax had forwarded to him containing the profiles of the operatives they had recruited. The Prairie Winds team was the cream of the crop, but it didn’t seem that even the long reach of their connections had uncovered the fact he and Carl weren’t strangers. Kyle and Kent had authorized the release of a file summary so Cam and CeCe would feel secure having him staying in their home—a fact he’d found amusing. It had been nice to read the bios of the other team members they’d be taking along, but it really hadn’t been necessary, he trusted Jax, Micah, and the Wests implicitly. Cam had been reluctant about Carl’s involvement, that was a given, but not for any of the reasons they would have assumed. At one time they’d been so close they had been able to finish one another’s sentences, now he sat across from a virtual stranger who merely looked a lot like someone he’d once known.

“I assume from that answer you’ve contacted club members in various agencies so they’ll keep their ears to the ground?” It might have sounded like a question, but Cam knew better, and when he merely nodded, Carl took a deep breath before leaning forward. “Listen, I’m here to do a job, I haven’t met Cecelia yet, but she deserves my best effort. She and your daughter are innocents, this isn’t their fight, and we both know it. She is also a friend to several people who are very important to me, so I want to keep her as safe as possible because being on Tobi, Gracie, and Meri’s shit list doesn’t appeal to me—not at all.” And there it was, the first hint of humor indicating the Carl Phillips he’d once known was still inside the stoic man seated across from him.

Cam couldn’t hold back his smile, “Well, for what it’s worth, I think staying off Tobi’s and Gracie’s radars is wise, but I’m not convinced they’ve had enough time to corrupt Merilee just yet.” He paused and then leaned forward, “Cecelia will be here momentarily. She has been my full-time slave outside of her career for several years. We’ve had to make some adjustments to our lifestyle since Chloe’s birth that neither of us are particularly content with because we have had a live-in nanny who isn’t in the lifestyle. I was supposed to interview one tomorrow before the club opened. I am hopeful that it works out, well, I’d like you to observe the interview along with Cecelia.”

“I assume you are talking about watching from the room behind that mirror.”

Cam didn’t even try to hold back his grin, he wasn’t at all surprised Carl had spotted the two-way mirror, it wasn’t difficult if one knew what to look for. “Correct. I’ll want your impressions about both women’s reactions.” He waited for a moment for recognition to hit his friend’s eyes before continuing, “The young woman I’m interviewing is a trained submissive, she has the credentials to care for Chloe, and I think she’ll fit in well. My only hope is we’ll be able to keep her because she also appears to have caught Fischer’s eye.” Cam knew Peter and Carl had shared women for some time, it was a part of the dossier he’d gotten from Kent and Kyle. What he didn’t know was how Carl would feel about Fischer and Peter sharing together without him, and that was exactly what he suspected would happen with Lara.

During dinner one evening, Fischer had confided that he knew there would be a woman who would bring him and his brother back together. Cam had always believed Peter had found a woman he’d thought was right, but Fischer had rejected her. His club manager hadn’t shared all of the details of their differences, but Cam knew Fischer believed there would be one woman that neither one could “read” and she’d be the one for them. Fischer had been fascinated with Lara—from the first moment he realized her thoughts weren’t completely open to him. Now Cam could only hope his friend could hold off his “happily ever after” long enough for him to ensure the safety of his wife and child.
You know full well that fate is a fickle friend and you have a lot of negative slash marks on the wrong side of
your
tally board.

Cam had no intention of laying all his cards on the table just yet, after all, focusing on anything other than keeping Cecelia and Chloe safe wasn’t an option. Refocussing his attention, he continued, “Cecelia is well-trained, but I’m concerned this situation may well throw her into a tailspin. She has never asked for any details about what I did before we met—personally, I think she was too worried to ask.”

“And you didn’t make her confront that fear?” The disbelief in Carl’s voice was easy to hear and Cam wouldn’t have expected anything less from a trained Dom, particularly one who had at one time known him well—very well. He’d been selfish and a coward, but that wasn’t something he was interested in admitting out loud, at least not to the only other person in this world he’d let down.

“She had already scheduled the next few days off, we’d planned to go out of town and Chloe is already at her aunt and uncle’s. Adam Weston is married to Cecelia’s older sister, Camille. Their home is very secure and Adam has taken some additional precautions. The trip we’d planned would have made protecting Cecelia very difficult without some security upgrades. I already have a team working on those but it will take them a couple of days to complete the installation of an enhanced motion detection system. In the meantime, we’ll be taking a private jet to New York tonight. I’ve arranged for a place where the security is as top-notch as it gets. We’ll spend a few days there while security upgrades are done in St. Maarten. Cecelia is probably going to be off work longer than a week, her clinic manager is working on that end of things.” For the first time in his life, Cameron Barnes was essentially flying by the seat of his pants. During his career, relegating tasks to others had always been far too dangerous, and delegating had been one of the most difficult skills for him to master after becoming a civilian business owner.

He hadn’t had time to fully consider all the angles, but on a soul deep level he trusted Carl Phillips. All he could do at this point was send up an impassioned plea to the Universe because even though he and Carl had both earned more than their share of negative karma, Cecelia had not. A small kernel of hope had sprouted in his heart when he’d heard Carl was coming to Dark Desires.
Is it possible he’ll be as captivated by her as I am?
They’d always liked the same people when they were younger, so maybe… Just as Cam started to explain what he was planning in St. Maarten, a soft knock sounded at the door.
Well, there’s no time like the present to find out if my suspicions are right.