Barefoot With a Stranger (Barefoot Bay Undercover Book 2) (13 page)

Nausea threatened. “You have no proof of that.”

She closed the file. “You sure would blacken the Drummand name.”

It was a bluff, wasn’t it? Sweat stung under his armpits. How the hell had he gotten into this situation, and how was he going to get out? Mal…and the money.

She stood. “I’ll call you from the beach.”

Relief at the reprieve seeped through him. “Watch your step around Rossi,” he warned, trying to sound much cooler than he felt. “He can smell an agent from a mile away.”

Her mouth tipped up, as if the challenge turned her on. “He won’t smell me.”

* * *

Chessie rolled away, but Gabe kept Mal pinned to the ground. “I heard you,” Gabe ground out the words through clenched teeth.

“Get off me!” Mal shoved hard, forcing Gabe to vault to his feet.

“You need to tell me and tell me now what the fuck is going on.” Gabe turned his gaze—his awfully damned
dry-eyed
gaze—to Chessie, who scooted back more from the force of his look than any real fear.

“We were…working out the details of our cover story,” she said.

Gabe pierced her with a look of distrust she’d known her whole life. For all his bravado and jokes and bad words and big heart, her brother didn’t trust anyone. And for good reason, in this case.

“Who’s following you?” he demanded.

Chessie almost laughed. “Damn, you’re good.”

“Good enough to hear you guys nattering up with the housekeeper and then whispering like a couple of teenage girls ten feet from where I was. And good enough to laugh my ass off at you two thinking I’m
crying
when I’m doing my last set of dead lifts.” He jerked around to Mal, who was getting to his feet. “Good enough to know you’re hiding something
very important
from me.”

Chessie could have kicked herself. Of
course
he hadn’t been crying. This was Gabe.

“Who the fuckity fuck is following you, Harris?” he demanded.

Mal stared at him, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the bug, turning it over in his palm. “I don’t know, but Chessie found this.”

Gabe took it, frowning. “Where was it, and why the hell weren’t you going to tell me?” Gabe demanded.

Chessie took a shallow inhale, the sun beating down almost as furiously as Gabe’s relentless fury. Which was only going to get worse. “It was in a hotel room in Atlanta.”

“Whose?”

“Mine,” Mal said.

“Then how did she…” He let out a breath. “Fuck.”

Neither Mal nor Chessie spoke, letting Gabe’s razor-sharp brain put the puzzle pieces together and come up with a picture of how he’d kill them both.

“I planned to help you find another way to handle your mission without involving Chessie,” Mal finally said.

“Why?” Gabe asked. “Conflict of interest?”

Mal didn’t respond for a second, and Chessie waited for the expected answer.
I thought you’d kill me.
“I thought I’d somehow let you down. Even unknowingly. And I never want to do that.”

Chessie’s heart slipped a little, hearing it wasn’t Gabe’s wrath he was afraid of, but something that seemed more honorable.

Gabe turned away, no sign of any anguish in his expression, just that look of a raw, ingrained protective streak that had smothered Chessie for most of her life. And protected her, she admitted. But right now? It smothered. Right now, she wanted to breathe and not be watched or judged or saved from her own mistakes.

She took a step forward. “Gabe, listen to me.”

“I don’t want to hear a word you have to say.”

“Well, you’re going to anyway,” she fired back, scooping up a heaping dose of righteous indignation. “I’m thirty years old, damn it, and a grown woman whether you like it or not.” When he didn’t reply, she forced herself into his averted gaze. “I met a guy I had no idea you knew. He was hot and nice and funny, and we were stranded in a hotel overnight.”

Gabe blinked at her, stunned into uncharacteristic speechlessness.

“Look, we talked and had a beer and…” She glanced at Mal. “The attraction was mutual,” she continued. “We ended up in his room. I went there on my own, to be honest. I liked him and he liked me and…” She stopped long enough to take a breath, barely aware that her pulse was slamming now, her chest tight, and that Mal had come to stand next to her. That silent support egged her on. “And guess what, Gabe? It was great. Best sex of my life.”

Finally Gabe held up his hand. “TM-
fucking
-I, Chess.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you have to stop treating me like I’m the teenager you left at home when you went off to save the world. This happened. Get over it. Nothing has changed because of it.” Maybe she’d slipped off her Little Sister Pedestal, but that had to happen sometime. “And nothing will change because of it.”

“Are you kidding?” Gabe thrust the listening device in her face. “
This
changes everything.”

“Then it’s a damn good thing she found it,” Mal said.

“We didn’t reveal anything,” she added. “We’ve been over our conversation.”

“Replayed the whole thing for old time’s sake, did you?” Gabe snarled the question, his look far darker than any obscenity-laden diatribe he could fling at them. Instead, he turned to Mal. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Mal closed his eyes. “I thought she was…with the agency,” he said.

He did? Chessie’s heart stumbled at the admission, but Gabe’s eyes sparked with raw fury. “And you threw her on her back and plowed her to make sure?”

Mal was in his face in a second. “Shut the fuck up.”

Gabe brushed him off, his nostrils finally flaring with the anger Chessie expected. “You’re defending her?”

“Hell yes, I am. She did nothing wrong, and I—”

“Took one for the team.”

Mal grabbed Gabe’s T-shirt collar so fast, Chessie sucked in a shocked breath. “Not another word, Rossi.” He had Gabe by an inch in height and more trips to a real gym. “Not one more word about your sister and not one more idiotic middle-school comment about what we did.”

Gabe stared at him, his laser-blue eyes slicing through Mal. “What kind of a bottom-feeder screws the woman he thinks might be following him?”

Good question. Chessie could feel herself backing away, this news pressing hotter and harder than the sunshine. He’d thought she was a spy and—

“Shut the hell up.” Mal’s hand fisted and drew back, his arm nearly vibrating for a fight. “It wasn’t like that.”

“No? Then what was it—”

“Stop it!” Chessie got right in between them, fury and disbelief nearly blinding her. “Both of you, just stop it. It’s done. We’re…done.” So, so done. “Let’s figure out Plan B and get to Cuba, find your son, and get out fast. I’d like this whole thing to be over as soon as possible.”

She could have sworn Mal flinched. Well, too bad. Her own puzzle pieces clicked together…comments finally making sense, subtleties in their exchange fitting into the big picture. The big
ugly
picture.

He’d thought she was one of the spies after him and he’d…
screwed
her. In every sense of the word.

“Even if you lost them before you left Atlanta, they could have followed Chessie when she left your room,” Gabe said. “Shit, they could be on the property right now.”

“They’re not,” Mal said.

“You don’t know that, but just in case, why don’t you knock on a few doors and see who you can bang some information out of?” Gabe stabbed his hand through his hair. “We’ll accelerate the schedule. Change the flights. Send you through another country and get you to Cuba by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Good thinking—”

Gabe glared at Mal, shutting him up. “I don’t need your fucking approval, dickface. In fact, I don’t need you at all. Pack up and head out. I’ll figure something else out and—”

“Gabe.” Mal’s voice was low and harsh. “That’ll take more time. Do you really want to spend even one more day wondering about this kid? You need me, man. And Chessie needs protection. I’ll guard her with my life, I swear to God I will.”

Gabe opened his mouth to spew some more venom, but nothing came out. The fire in his eyes didn’t disappear, but his chest rose and fell with a slow breath.

Chessie fisted her hands, Mal’s promise to protect hanging in the air, along with his determination to keep Gabe from going to Cuba. That alone was a point in his favor, along with his defense of her.

“Come on, Gabe,” Mal continued. “Let me do this for you. Let me find the answers you have to have.”

Chessie’s heart warmed at the plea, which seemed genuine and was surely the right way to look at this.

And Gabe closed his eyes in silent resignation.

“You know it’s the right thing to do,” Mal finished.

Gabe inhaled and exhaled, fighting for control and common sense. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said. “I’m going to put you on a plane to Cuba with my sister, and you’re going to do what you have to do, keeping your paws to yourself, and then you can come back and kindly stay out of my life.” He threw a look at Chessie. “Come with me. I need to talk to you.”

Mal moved closer to her as Gabe walked away, but Chessie put her hand on his arm. “Let me hear what he has to say,” she said. “Brother to sister.”

“Chessie—”

“Please, I know what to say to him.”

“You already said plenty.”

“Maybe that’s because I’m not a spy,” she said dryly. “Even if I can pass for one.” Without waiting for some lame-ass apology, she headed to the back patio, where she found Gabe still breathing hard, staring at the listening device.

“Look, Gabe, I know I let you down, but—”

He shook his head, stopping Chessie’s speech before it started. “I acted like an asshole.”

“Well. The first step
is
admitting it,” she said in a teasing tone.

He puffed out a breath. “It just…surprised me. And, yes, you’re right. You’re a grown woman.”

The statement stunned any argument out of her. “Thank you, but you don’t have to worry about anything. The chances of it happening again are less than zero.” At his doubtful look, she added, “Please. He put the moves on me because he thought I was a spy.” The reality of it tightened her stomach into a ball of self-loathing. And Mal-loathing.

“I’m sure that’s not the only reason, Chess. Plus, ‘I went to his room’ doesn’t exactly sound like this was one-sided.”

Shit, why had she told him so much? “It doesn’t matter. Now I know why he turned on the charm. I’ll avoid…him.” On a mission to Cuba.

Gabe looked at her as if he was thinking the same thing.

“Look.” He held up the broken device. “This is why you need to avoid Mal. He’s got a target on his back, so he’s not the guy you want.”

“I’d already figured out he’s a spy.”

Both of Gabe’s brows lifted. “You didn’t find that out through some computer search.”

“No, I didn’t.” She crossed her arms and stared him down. “Just used my God-given Rossi intuition.”

He nodded slowly, impressed. “I knew you had the chops.”

“So get off my case and let me do this job,” she said. “Trust me.”

“I do, but, listen, Chess, about Mal. About a
relationship
with Mal.”

“There won’t be one,” she assured him.

“Good, because there are people who’d like to see him behind bars doing ten more years not behind a picket fence mowing the lawn and having backyard barbecues with the neighbors.”

“That’s what you think I want?” She tried to sound put off by the suggestion, even though…it wasn’t far from the truth.

He lifted a brow. “You told me last time you were down here how much you want to have a family. How much you want to settle down and have a life and a home like the one we grew up in. So much you were willing to march down the aisle with douchetastic Matt. Did you think I wasn’t listening?”

“I thought you weren’t impressed by those mundane goals. I figured that’s why you want me down here. So I can learn the business and go all badass like my siblings and cousins.”

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive,” he said, leaning against the railing. “Look at Vivi. Badass and pregnant. Married to that stick in the mud Lang, who probably pulls out a rule book every time he takes a shit to make sure everything’s coming out in the right order.”

She bit back a smile. “I like Lang.”

“As you should. He’s the kind of guy who would be good for you, much as it pains me to admit it. But Mal? No. Not what you need, Chess.”

Irritation squeezed her again, but she was more curious than angry at Gabe for making sweeping decisions about her life. “I know he’s got a record and that he went to jail for a serious crime.”

“Yeah, the crime of stupidity.”

“Stealing money from the government is stupid,” she agreed.

Gabe looked hard at her, opened his mouth, then shut it again. “Listen to me,” he said. “He’s never going to have a normal life. He’s a risk.”

“And yet you’re willing to send me to a foreign country on a secret mission with him.”

“He knows every inch of that island, and you won’t be there long. I still think he’s the best guy for the job.”