Solid Muscle (Unseen Enemy Book 5) (3 page)

Time had stood still as Dallas stared at his receptionist with the amazing natural talent for reading people, his mouth agape. Cordelia was frozen, horrified at what she’d said, certain that Dallas bitterly regretted deciding to further her skills, sure that she was about to be fired. When Dallas threw his head back and roared with laughter, she’d taken a deep breath and sworn to not always shout out every single thing that she saw written bright and large across people’s faces.

“Yeah, you got me.” Dallas had grinned at her. “I just got off the phone with Olivia… we were talking about our honeymoon.”

“Oh.” Cordelia had blushed deeply. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Dallas had looked at Jack and shaken his head, both admiring and disbelieving. “Taylor, you are worth every goddamn penny, I swear.”

Jack had grinned. “Oh, I know it.”

That same grin was on his face now as he contemplated her. “Seriously, Cordelia… I don’t think you’ll be needing me much longer. Dallas hired me on a six-month contract, but I think we’re going to be able to get through your training in about four. You’re such a natural, sometimes I still can’t believe it. Maybe the last two months can be actual field work with me.”

She looked away and Jack saw a mixture of embarrassment and pride on her beautiful face. “Thanks, Jack.”

“OK, so.” Selena was still thinking about Melanie and Zane and she sighed at the lengths that people would go to get attention. “Griff, we’d better go and fill in Dallas, huh?”

“Not right away,” Griff said. “He told me this morning that he’s not available until this whole thing in Utah wraps up. Last I heard, Ferguson was on the move and Sully was in position to take him down.”

Cordelia’s stomach tightened up at the thought of Sully and Mark out there facing down Michael Ferguson. In Foxburg Falls, she’d looked the man in the eye and seen nothing but contempt, disgust and arrogance. Worse, she’d talked to Kat about him –
no, not Kat, not anymore… Beth
– and what he’d done to her. Cordelia had seen sheer fucking
terror
on the other woman’s face and no wonder. The man was less than human in so many ways and Cordelia hoped hard that it all ended today. One way or another.

“Oh, right.” Selena stood up. “Well, let’s get started on our reports then, yeah? We’ll present them to Dallas later.”

“Paperwork!” Griff said. “
Love
it!”

Selena glanced over at Cordelia. “I don’t need to be able to do what you do to know that
that
? Was bullshit.”

“Complete and total and utter,” Cordelia confirmed.

“Yeah. Good luck lying around this woman ever again, huh?” Griff said to Jack.

“You know it,” Jack agreed and turned to Cordelia. “You are now officially an emotional x-ray… a walking, breathing human lie-detector. Any man who dates you is dead in the water.”

“Well, then,” Cordelia said lightly, as if it didn’t matter in the slightest. “Good thing I’m single, huh?”

Jack gazed at her silently. One of the things about being a profiler at his level of expertise was that he saw all those things that people wanted so badly to hide – emotional pain, deep hurt, struggles and crises. Lies of omission and white lies and lies told out of kindness and at a glance, he knew which were which. He knew when someone was in an abusive relationship; he knew when someone was lying about it. He saw sadness and disappointment and boredom. He saw possessiveness and false confidence and insecurity. He saw it all.

Cordelia was tough and compassionate, he knew that with every iota of his being, but she was also desperately lonely. This woman wanted someone to love, wanted someone to love her back. But she had a full plate – she was a single mother, her son was sick, she had a full-time job – and she wasn’t the kind of woman to shirk her responsibilities. She was admirable in so many damn ways and Jack actually ached for her in her loneliness, wished happiness for her.

She looked up and caught his eye. She saw his kindness, his concern and she smiled now. It was a real smile, he was relieved to see and in turn, she saw his relief. Hundreds of words passed between them and every one of them was silent.

“So,” he said. “Let’s get to work, Cordelia. I have a few new exercises to run past you this morning before you head back to Reception and train your replacement.”

“Good.” She was all business now, totally professional and cool. “I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

Chapter Three

Sully sighed heavily, stretched his broad shoulders. He and Mark had finally finished the paperwork on the Ferguson incident and he was good and ready to head for a hotel. Sully needed a shower, a meal, a beer and a bed. In that order.

“You ready to get going?” Mark said. “I’m ready for a burger and beer.”

“Great minds think alike. Yeah, let’s get out of here.” Sully looked around the tiny police station. “You think we’ll have to come back?”

Mark shrugged. “Maybe. The Utah State Troopers will undoubtedly have some questions for us, since Ferguson was from out of state and was a cop. It may get messy in some ways.”

“Fuck, man. It was messy from the word go.”

Mark thought about Beth and all the other women that Ferguson had raped and brutalized over the years. “Yeah. True.”

The men left the police station and Sully let Mark drive to the hotel. The closest city was about an hour away they didn’t talk much on the drive over. They’d worked together for Dallas for almost six years now, and they both knew that after a kill, they needed some decompression time.

Sully gazed out the window at the stunning scenery, taking stock of how he was doing. Ferguson wasn’t even close to the first man he’d kicked off this mortal coil and he wasn’t even close to being the last. After almost twelve years of military service and time all over the Middle East and six years in personal security, Sully was no stranger to taking human life. He’d never liked it, he certainly never sought it out – but when it came time to end a life, he’d step up without hesitation and with only a little regret after.

No
regret this time, though. This was one of those kills that won’t haunt me.

When Sully got to his room, he headed straight for the bathroom, kicking off his shoes and shedding his clothes as he went. He ran the water until it was scorching hot and he stepped in, ducking his head under the spray. He closed his eyes, his hands on the wall in front of him, took deep breaths as he let go of the day.

Her face came to him now: wavy blonde hair, warm green eyes the color of the sea, sharp cheekbones hinting at her Polish background, her long, slim body. And as always when she snuck up on him unawares in a rare moment of calm, Sully experienced a kick to the gut that nearly brought him to his knees with guilt and grief at how badly he’d failed her. Failed both of them.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

She couldn’t hear him, of course; neither one of them could. Sully had no faith in an afterlife and he sure as hell didn’t believe in forgiveness… not when it came to what he’d done. Or, more to the point, what he
hadn’t
done. He’d failed to protect Jessica and their unborn child, failed them both so completely that as he’d stood over the two coffins – one so fucking heartbreakingly tiny – he’d sworn there and then to never be that close to anyone. Not ever again.

I had my shot at love and happiness and I fucked it all up
.

But even as he had the thought,
she
came to him: long dark hair, flashing dark eyes, her smooth skin a warm chocolate, her lush body begging him to touch those amazing curves. No matter how high and thick he built the wall around his heart, no matter how much control he rigidly imposed on his feelings, her smile had the power to smash right on through those things. And that confounded him.

Cordelia
.

Sully thought back to their time together in Foxburg Falls, when they’d gone undercover as a married couple. For weeks, it had been just the two of them all day and every day – and he’d loved every second of it. They’d shared a room (though not a bed) and he’d watched Cordelia sleep, her beautiful face relaxed and vulnerable. They’d held hands as they’d strolled the streets, teased each other over breakfast in the local café. She’d called him ‘babe’ and stroked his cheek. In turn, he’d brushed her sweet lips, called her ‘hon’ and more than once, he’d meant it all.

That
part had shaken him, badly. So many times, he’d found himself sliding a bit too easily and deeply in to their roles. More than once, he’d stared down at her when he was being physically affectionate as part of their cover and wanted to kiss her. For real. Coax her lips open with his tongue, stroke her mouth until she moaned and clutched at him and begged him to fuck her slow and deep and hard.

Impatient with himself now, Sully shook his head, reached for the shampoo. No.
No way
he was going there. Yeah, OK, she was smart and sexy and she made him happy in ways that he didn’t think he could ever be again… but he was a fucking mess and she deserved better than him. She deserved a man who was whole and God knows he wasn’t even close to that.

So he determined to work with her, keep his distance and stay cold and aloof, and if he found himself gazing with longing across the bustling Solid Security office at her once in a while, well, so what? He was a healthy forty-year-old man, she was a gorgeous thirty-five-year-old woman and there was basic biology in play. It didn’t mean a goddamn thing, though.

And if it
does
mean something? Then I won’t ever let it mean anything very much.

My life is quick and clean and has no complications.

Just like I like it.

**

Cordelia unlocked the apartment door, sighing with pleasure at being home. It had been a long and emotional day and she was ready to have some of her mother’s famous lasagna and kick back with a glass of wine. Maybe two.

“Hi, Mom.” Sean was standing in the tiny kitchen drinking a glass of carrot juice. For reasons that would forever remain a mystery to Cordelia, her son loved the stuff. He’d choose it over milk, over apple juice, even over Coke. Not that she offered Sean Coke very much, but still. It was inarguably odd for a ten-year-old kid to ask for carrot juice with his pizza.

“Hi, sweetie.” Wearily, she kicked off her cheap high heels. “You doing alright?”

“Oh,
he’s
fine, believe me. But your son is driving
me
crazy, I’ll have you know.”

Cordelia turned to her mother, already fighting back her grin. The woman complained unceasingly about Sean driving her crazy, but woe to Cordelia if she suggested that Chantal take a few days off from child care. The last time she’d run that idea past her Mom, Chantal had doubled down on the time spent with her only grandchild.

“What’s he done now?” Cordelia asked. “And is there anything to eat?”

“That’s what he’s done!” Chantal’s dark eyes were flashing behind her glasses. “He ate your dinner!”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Chantal said. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

Cordelia shrugged. “Well, I’m glad he was so hungry.”

Truer words had never been spoken. Sean had been diagnosed with a brain tumor two years earlier and his appetite was unpredictable: some days he ate ravenously like a normal growing kid, other days he barely consumed enough food to sustain a sparrow. Cordelia always rejoiced when he scarfed down everything in sight, even if it meant that she went without or heated up a package of Mr. Noodles for dinner yet again.

“I was hungry!” Sean protested. “I had time trials at swim practice today.”

Cordelia immediately stamped down hard on her natural maternal instinct to freak out a bit. The doctor had said that Sean was absolutely allowed to participate in sports when he was up for it, but she still didn’t like the thought of her seizure-prone son being immersed in water. She drew the line at sports where balls came at Sean’s head at high speeds, but she’d relented on the swim team – and Sean had taken up the sport enthusiastically.

Looking at him now, bursting with pride and excitement, Cordelia reminded herself to take a breath and be grateful. Right from the beginning, she had decided to not live in fear of what might happen, not to hide her son away from the world. He was sick and that scared her to death, but no way she was going to wrap him in cotton wool and keep him home and coddle him. Hiding from the truth or protecting herself from the pain wasn’t going to cure his cancer – and it wasn’t going to stop his death. Fear and denial had never helped anything.

Calming her heartbeat took an effort, but Cordelia managed it. “Yeah? How’d you do?”

“Great.” His dark eyes sparkled at her. “I shaved two seconds off my fifty-meter front crawl.”

“You’re awesome, kiddo.” She kissed him on his nose. “You totally earned that lasagna.”

“Sorry, Mom. I guess you’re hungry, huh?”

“Not so much.” Cordelia opened the fridge, peered in. “I’ll make an omelet.”

“I’ll make it for you,” Chantal fussed. “You go get cleaned up, relax a bit.”

“It’s fine, Mom.”

“Don’t you talk back to me, missy. You go get changed, have a shower, watch TV, whatever.” Chantal glared. “You listen to your mother, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She may have been thirty-five years old, but her Mom was still determined to be in charge in some ways and damned if Cordelia was going to fight it tonight. Yeah, they’d had some epic battles about Sean’s father and about Sean’s medical treatment and Chantal wanting to move in full-time – and on
those
things Cordelia hadn’t bowed or bent. But cooking an omelet? Her Mom could win this round.

The truth was that without Chantal, Cordelia wouldn’t even be able to
begin
to manage. Single parenthood was challenging enough, but throw in Sean’s doctor’s appointments, radiation sessions, blood tests, days off school when he wasn’t doing well, trips to the drug store to pick up his steroids… if she’d had to handle all of that on her own, Cordelia would never be able to hold down a job. And it was her job with Dallas Foreman that provided them with medical insurance and a steady paycheck.

She wandered in to her bedroom and grabbed her towel and bathrobe, headed down to the miniscule bathroom. She turned on the shower and stepped in, sighing with pleasure at the warmth. She just stood still for a minute, enjoying the silence and privacy.

As so often happened when she was alone and actually relaxed, her thoughts turned to Hunter Sullivan. She’d heard at work that he’d killed Michael Ferguson that day and despite the fact that he always acted as though that was no big deal, she imagined it had to be a weight to carry. It had to affect him somehow, on some level, though she had no way of confirming that.

She scrubbed her body with the papaya body wash that Sean had given her for her birthday, still thinking about Hunter. He was the one – probably the
only
– person that she couldn’t really seem to read. That gorgeous face was hard and closed, those black eyes emotionless and flat, that sensual mouth always set in a firm line, that powerful body almost mute in terms of body language. He was the most controlled man she’d ever known and that confounded her.

The
only
time she’d ever seen that iron control slip was when they were alone in Foxburg Falls. Hunter had played the part of the doting, adoring husband to perfection and there had been times when she’d found herself wanting to believe that it was real. He hadn’t held himself back from her for those weeks they were together: she truly believed that he’d shown her a little part of his soul, of his heart. He’d been funny and sweet and protective and she’d found herself hopelessly attracted to him.

But the minute they were back in Denver and back at work, he’d reverted to the cool, abrupt, distant man that she’d known before the undercover work. She still flinched when she remembered that first morning back at the office, when she’d made him a coffee and brought it to his desk. She’d missed their morning chats and had wanted to recapture a bit of that closeness if at all possible.

He’d stared at the coffee that she’d set in front of him and then sat back in his chair slowly, regarding her with cold eyes. “You don’t need to do that anymore, Cordelia.”

“Do – what?” she’d faltered, confused by his impersonal tone.

“Play the wife.” His voice was dry, professional. “The op is over and so is the charade. No need to take care of me, no need to do nice little things out of the blue. Just go back to your desk and answer the phones and I’ll make my own coffee.”

She’d been unbelievably hurt by his words. She’d nodded quietly, turned away and since that morning, she’d barely looked at him. If he wanted her to leave him alone, she sure as hell could do that. But she still worried about him on days like today, when his job took him somewhere dangerous, when he took a life.

Hunter Sullivan is not your worry, Cordelia. Sean is, your Mom is, the rent is. Just focus on your training and the new role that Dallas has planned for you and stop thinking about that gorgeous and totally distant man.

She washed away the body scrub and shut off the shower, feeling refreshed. After all, just because she and Hunter worked in the same damn office didn’t mean that she
had
to talk to the guy, did it? No, it did not. She’d just carry on doing what she’d been doing since they got back from Foxburg Falls. Avoiding him, not looking at him, not talking to him beyond muttering ‘good morning’ when he passed her desk.

Yeah, she could handle that limited contact. No problem. No problem at all.