Garrison's Creed (Titan) (13 page)

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 tightened 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.

No way was she pissed at him.

No way.

They’d kissed. It wasn’t all him. She was there with him, every lip lock, tease, and torture. She’d been game.

He murmured, “You’re standing there ‘cause you want me to ask what’s the matter. And I don’t feel like it. So scurry along, Nic. You have your reason not to work with me. Jared will give you a pass.”

“I want to work with you. You’re the one who doesn’t want me.” Tap, tap, tap of the toe. She wanted him to keep guessing.

True enough, he didn’t want to work with her. He deflated an exhausted breath. “I don’t know what you need me to say. Help me out, or go away.”

“Challenge me.”

“What?” He picked the hat off his head, catching a good stare at her.

“Test me. Ask me to do something you think I can’t do.”

“I’m not playing games.”

“I’m not either, but if we’re going to work together, you have to believe I can keep up with you.”

“No—”

“I’m not playing, Cash. Try me. Challenge me. I want to earn your respect.”

“I respect you. Promise. I’m sorry about this whole kissing in the grass thing.” He paused. “Actually, no, I’m not.”

“It has nothing to do with—”

“Then your timing sucks. As usual.” He knocked the cowboy hat back into place. It hung on a tilt, but he didn’t bother to fix it.

“Cheap shot.” She put her hands on her hips, and the foot bounced, bounced, bounced.

“Blue balls. What can I say?”

“Classy, Cash.” She smirked, her face reading sky-high on the bitch-o-meter.

“I’ll tell you what. You want to spar, we can do that. But here’s the deal, and it has nothing to do with working together. You win, you get whatever you want. I win, I get to finish that kiss.”

The foot stopped bouncing. He jumped up and walked away before she could rain a storm of excuses on him.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Best two out of three.” Nicola swore he’d let her win that one. She’d hooked an ankle above his knee and shoved a hard hand against his chest. He should’ve been able to roll out. He should’ve done anything, but nope. Pinned beneath her, Cash looked pleased, sporting a hi-how-ya-doing grin on his handsome face.

Didn’t he want to finish their kiss? Or did he want to see what she wanted? Oh, this was frustrating and confusing.
I’ve been hanging with CIA folks too long.
The guessing game and lack of trust permeated every question and situation, giving her a constant headache.

“You’re on. I’ll go two out of three.” His sly smirk said he
wanted
to get pinned.

Nicola jumped up on bare feet, and he followed. She waited for him to move, then charged.

Attack. Block.

Counter-attack. Block again.

She rocked back on her bare heels. “Come on, Cash. This is too by the book.”

He put his hands on his hips. “You started out textbook. I’m taking your lead.”

Shit.
She was so concerned about displaying what she knew, that she’d left the heart out of their battle. She’d anticipated, shown off, and lost focus, all of which sucked the fight and emotion out of her natural moves. Proper footwork wouldn’t impress Cash. Heart would. She knew that. She knew him.

Nicola breathed in, centered, and readied her launch. He was taller, stronger. Speed and quickness were on her side. She needed to get in, get close, and get out. Faking a throw, he jumped away, then stepped into her spinning back kick.

She set up high, struck low. Cash grunted with the blow, and a smile of pride slipped across his face.
Hell, no.
She wasn’t here to impress him. She was here to take him down.

Jab. Jab again. He caught her hand before it fully extended. He took a side step and countered. A leg hooked behind, and down she went. Cash was over her, hovering so close, so sexual. Broad arms trapped her. His heavy weight held her in place. He smelled like masculine effort. Salt from her sweat teased her lips. The air was charged. Hair stuck to his damp forehead. The scent of fresh perspiration tightened her stomach. His beautiful sapphire eyes shone, pinning her to the ground. The air vacuumed out of the gym, and she was done.

She tapped the mat.

Once.

Twice.

Released, Cash rolled off her and lay next to her on the blue athletic pad. She studied the ceiling. He had the win. He’d earned his kiss. Their kiss. Her body tingled, not from the body slams and mat burns, but the vivid flashback of the grassy field interlude. She shivered, despite the warm temperature and the hand-to-hand workout.

Nicola turned her gaze from the ceiling lights and crashed headfirst into Cash’s gorgeous gaze. Her heart squeezed ripcord tight and forgot to beat. Sweat dampened his cotton shirt, and his mesh shorts stuck to the rippled muscles in his thighs. Not an ounce of fat. Nothing but lean, mean, 100% Grade A Cash.

He would look spectacular naked. Sculpted and tan. Blonde chest hair and cut muscles. Memories raced. A fresh round of shivers skipped down her neck and chest, hardening nipples under her tight spandex shirt.

“You’re good, Nic.”

She mumbled a response, not even aware of its meaning, and looked past him to the row of equipment. Free weights. Treadmill. Heavy bag.

“Feel better now?” he asked.

Nicola propped up on her elbows, but her head hung back. She didn’t want to see him answer her question. “Better question is, do you?”

“Meaning?”

“You thought I hadn’t been trained.”

“You’re CIA. Logically, I know you’ve undergone the best that the best has to offer. But it’s hard to connect the woman I knew to the woman with roundhouse kicks and evasive maneuvers, catching her breath next to me.”

Now she looked at him. She couldn’t help it. “Do you like her? I mean, me? Who I am now?”

He propped up on an elbow. “Yeah, Nic.” He pushed a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I really do.”

She was suddenly aware of her thumping heart—the same heart that went on boycott a tense moment before—and her nerves responding to his smoldering look. She had to change the subject to something, anything else. Sitting up, she dusted off her hands. “I need to thank Mia for the clothes. I didn’t think I’d log any gym time this weekend and didn’t pack anything for a workout.”

He chuckled. “Are you nervous around me?”

Maybe.
“Of course not. You’re so damn cocky, Cash.” She jumped up, ready to run. Cash stayed on the floor, eyeing her, knowing her far better than she liked to admit.

“’Cause you seem to do just fine when we clash, but given a quiet moment, you smooth your clothes or pick a fight.”

“How very observant of you.” She tried very hard not to fidget with her shirt.

“Right there. Hear it in your voice? That’s a fighting tone.” His voice drawled, hinting at their Virginia roots. “I observe. It’s what I do.”

“You’re a sniper. That’s what you do.”

“Nah, sweet girl. That’s just my specialty. I observe. I conclude. I react.”