Solid Muscle (Unseen Enemy Book 5) (7 page)

Come on, man. Time to launch Phase One of ‘Making Up For Being Such A Dick’.

He opened the door and she didn’t even glance up.

“Hey, hon,” Sully said.

Her head jerked up now and those amazing eyes stared at him, confused.

He handed her the cup carefully. “Here’s your coffee. Hot and spicy, just like you.”

She took the coffee, still puzzled. “Ummm… what?”

He climbed in, slammed the door, started the engine. “Ready, baby?”

She blinked. “Wait. Are you – are you Garrett?”

He grinned. “Of course I am.” He buckled up, pulled out of the parking spot. “Your loving husband of twelve years.”

“Oh.” He saw her shake herself, force herself to slip in to her professional role. “And what great years they’ve been.” She choked out the next word. “Babe.”

“Come on, now,” he chided her. “They’ve been
awesome
years, huh? Remember our ten-year anniversary trip to Bali?”

She grinned at him now, relaxing in to the game, settling in to the rapport. “Yeah. Those fruity drinks on the beach damn near killed us.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, delighted that she was playing along now. “But they also led to some hot and heavy fun down in the sand.”

“I remember,” she said. “Too bad we got sunburned in such sensitive places.”

He laughed. “We survived.”

“Yeah.”

Sully stopped at the stop sign, waited for some traffic to clear. As he did, he looked over at her and met her dark gaze. Their eyes locked, hard, and the air between them sparked and crackled. Neither one of them looked away, though. They held on, studying each other’s faces, trying to see if the thaw between them was beginning. Sully longed to ask her if it was going to be OK after all, even after his thoughtlessness and pushing her away.

“It’s OK, Hunter,” she said softly, as if he’d asked the question aloud.

“You sure?” He didn’t bother to ask her what she meant: he knew she’d seen it on his face. She saw
everything
and that was the biggest reason that he
had
to fight so hard to be cold and distant around her.

“I’m sure. I know you’re sorry. I’ve known it for a while.”

“You have no idea, Cordelia.” Relief smashed through him at finally being able to talk about this. “I’ve wanted to take those stupid words back a thousand times.”

She smiled. “Once is fine.”

“I’d take them back if I could. I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Alright then.” He breathed out, pulled on to the highway. “So, Millie. Let’s go and break up a goddamn kidnapping ring.”

“Sounds good, Garrett.” She took a sip of her coffee and warmth spread through her chest as she tasted the shot of cinnamon. “Let’s go and do that.”

Chapter Seven

Olivia Jameson poured four cups of coffee and handed them over to her friends one by one, watched them prepare their coffees in their own unique ways.

Beth drank hers black with three scoops of sugar, so it was a weird combination of hardcore and sweet as hell. Just like her, with all of her sharp edges and her good heart; with her dark secrets and shining belief in her new life.

Jennifer Sawyer drank hers with skim milk and sweetener, since she was amazingly self-conscious about her weight. Despite the fact that Chris Brooker, her boyfriend, adored every lush curve, Jenny had the occasional crisis of confidence and moaned about the hazards of being a chef: she loved having her own restaurant, loved cooking, but she did tend to nibble on the job.

Emma Cartwright drank hers with skim milk and real sugar, since she was seven weeks pregnant and her doctor had told her to avoid the chemicals in sweetener. Emma was down to one cup of coffee a day and she’d told the girls that she was determined to enjoy it, so worries about sugar calories be damned. She drew the line at milk, though, for some reason that made Dean Jessop – the baby’s father and the love of her life – laugh at her.

And Olivia? Well, she’d been a professional model for seventeen years and she’d lived off black, unsweetened coffee most of the time. Now that
that
part of her life was over – her stalker had exploded her career by leaving her face and body covered in scars – she unapologetically drank her morning coffee with cream and real sugar, weight gain be damned. Since leaving modeling, Liv had gained eighteen glorious pounds… and she’d never looked
or
felt better. Dallas loved her, he worshipped her body and he traced every new curve with his fingers and tongue.

“So.” Beth looked down at Emma’s stomach. “You doing OK today?”

“I am now,” Emma said. “But Dean got to enjoy the sights and sounds of me in the bathroom again this morning.” She sighed. “Poor guy. He has to be
so
tired of seeing me puking.”

The other women nodded a bit at this. Emma had just recently been declared in remission from her leukemia and God knows, they’d all spent plenty of time watching her be violently, desperately sick. They all felt that the woman had had about enough of that, really, and they hoped hard that the morning sickness was going to pass soon.

“Urgh,” Jenny said. “Does anything help?”

“Not really,” Emma said. “But I have a list of things that
don’t
help.”

“Yeah?” Liv said as she waved them all over to the living room. “Like what?”

“Oranges. Carrots. Chicken. Apple juice. Green peppers.” She paused. “Mint toothpaste.”

“Really?” Beth said. “Toothpaste?”

Emma shuddered. “Seriously, the second it hits my taste buds, I’m gagging.”

“Huh,” Jenny said. “Never heard of
that
before.”

“So I use kid toothpaste now.” Emma took a sip of her coffee. “Dean laughs his ass off at me.”

“What flavor?” Liv said as she handed around the basket of croissants that Jenny had baked and brought over.

“Bubble gum!” Emma said. “It’s actually awesome.”

The women laughed, then settled a bit as they ate and drank. Olivia looked on edge, though, so Jenny broached the subject.

“You OK, Liv?” she asked, her blue eyes soft. “Getting nervous about the big day?”

“Oh, God, no.” Liv shook her head, her long red hair brilliant in the morning light. “No. I can’t wait to marry Dallas.”

“So what’s up?”

Liv hesitated. “I can’t say too much… it’s about Dallas’ work.”

“Ah.” Jenny looked serious. “Something’s going on?”

“Yeah, something really – awful. He’s worried about it, I know, and it’s making me worry about him.”

“Why? Does he think someone’s going to get hurt?” Beth asked. “Because from what I understood from his people helping me, they’re really good, Liv.”

“No, I know they are. I got to know most of them when they were guarding me and I know they’re trained and professional. But it’s not
them
– it’s the people they’re going after.”

Emma was puzzled. “They’re going after someone? So this isn’t the usual kind of bodyguard thing?”

“Oh, no. Not even close. It’s deep undercover stuff and the people involved are going to be in contact with some real lowlifes.” She was silent, turning her coffee cup around in her slim hands. “They’re on their way there now and Dallas is going to follow them in a few days, to act as back-up just in case things… happen.”

“Oh.” Beth set down her cup. “You’re scared.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m scared for all of them.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Emma said softly. “That’s stressful, huh?”

Liv shook herself a bit, tried to lift the mood again. “Well, a bit. But Dallas is great at this and anyway, it’s way less stressful than other stuff in our lives recently, huh?”

The other women nodded: their lives had been rough over the past year in so many ways and they felt like the worst of it had passed. They were lucky to have had amazing, supportive men to help them through and they never stopped being grateful for that.

“Anyway!” Liv said again, with more enthusiasm this time. “We have the final dress fittings in four weeks, so make sure you mark your calendars.”

Emma groaned and ran her hands through her short, dark hair. “Am I going to fit in to my dress on your wedding day in six weeks?”

“Doubtful.” Liv grinned. “We’ll need to do an extension for sure.”

“Or just buy two sizes up!” Beth said merrily. “Just to be safe!”

Emma glanced down at her plate. She had three croissants on it and she fully intended to eat each and every one of them. “Maybe
three
sizes.”

**

Dean Jessop stood over Chris Brooker, spotting the man as he lowered three hundred and fifty pounds towards his chest. Chris handled the weight easily, lifted it, lowered it again. By the ninth press, Dean saw the strain begin and he leaned over his friend.

“You got this, man. Three more.”

Chris’ massive arms shook, every muscle defined and cut. He did two more reps, struggled on the last one. Dean helped him set the bar back on the holder and Chris sat up, stretching his chest.

“God,” he said. “I’m getting old, man. I used to be able to do that no problem.”

Jim grinned as he taped his hands. “That’s why I stick to the punching bag. No showing me up when I can’t struggle through twelve reps.”

“Yeah, you may be on to something,” Chris mused as he wiped down the bench. “Or maybe I’ll go to the rowing machine.”

Dallas, Dean and Jim stared at him.

“
Why
?” Dallas said, aghast. “You might as well just hit the stairmaster.”

“Oh, I know.” Chris wiped his sweaty face with his towel. “Us military boys need to punch things and pump iron at the gym, huh?”

“Damn right,” they answered in unison.

“So.” Dean reclined on the bench and Chris moved to spot him. “How’s Beth?”

Jim paused. “Honestly? I’m not sure.”

That got their attention and they all looked at him, waiting.

“She’s not as happy about Ferguson being dead as I thought she would be.” Jim looked at his friends. “I mean, I know what it says about me, but I’m fucking
thrilled
he’s dead.”

“You didn’t want him taken alive?” Dean asked quietly, brushing his blond hair back off his face. “Didn’t want him to stand trial?”

“No.” Jim shook his dark head. “I knew if it went to trial, it’d drag on for years, most likely. Beth would have had to testify and that would have been a nightmare for her, having to talk about all the things he’d done to her.”

The guys nodded.

“She’d have to live with it every day that things were in court and she’d have to see him… she'd sit there in the same goddamn
room
and just know that the monster who killed her baby and made her run for all those years was being defended. Like… like any of what he did was actually fucking
defensible
.”

“Yeah,” Dallas said heavily. “And in the end, he may have been free in just a few years anyway.”

“Look what happened to Jenny’s attackers,” Chris said in a tight, low growl. “Eighteen months was the most any of them served for what they did to her.”

The guys were silent: they still hated to think about that part of Jenny’s life. She may have been moving past it with Chris’ love, but she was probably never going to get beyond it completely. She still had panic attacks sometimes when Chris touched her and he was nothing but gentle and careful with her.

“Exactly,” Jim said. “Anything could have happened in the end, so maybe I’m a shit human being, but I wished him dead so she could be totally free. And now he’s dead and she’s… she’s not happy.”

“Maybe it needs to fully sink in,” Dean said. “She’s been running for so long, man, maybe she needs to
learn
how to be happy.”

“Yeah.” Jim thought about that. “Maybe.”

“Maybe you should take her away for a week or two,” Dallas suggested. “She’ll relax, sleep late, drink too much wine.” His eyes sparkled. “You can make sure she never leaves the bed…”

“You know, she
did
say once that she’d love to go to New Orleans.” Jim stood up, stretched his taped hands. “Said she’d never been, but really wanted to see it. She was thinking about running there next, actually.”

“Yeah?” Chris said. “Maybe ask your boss for some time off then, take Beth away for a vacation?”

“Hmmm.” Jim looked over at Dean. “I dunno. My boss is kind of an asshole about time off.”

Dean grinned at him. “Shut it, Alden. Of course I’ll get your shifts covered if you want to take Beth away. Just say the word.”

“Yeah, maybe after Dallas’ wedding.”

“OK.” Dean lay down on the bench again. “Let me know… whatever Beth needs, man, we’ll make sure she gets it. Just ask.”

“Thanks, Dean.”

Dean nodded. “OK… so are we gonna work out or what? If we were just going to sit around and gossip, we might as well have had a coffee morning like the ladies.”

“Well,” Chris said. “Jenny
did
bake croissants.”

There was a short, jealous pause.

“Yeah?” Dallas said.

“Uh-huh.” Chris shifted his balance to help Dean lift the weight down for his first rep. “Plain, chocolate
and
jam-filled.”

“Hmmm.” Jim headed over to the punching bag. “So next time? Coffee at Dallas’ and we invite Jenny to come to
our
get-together. The ladies can fend for themselves on the pastry front.”

“Damn right,” Dallas said as he fell to the mat to do some more crunches. “That woman’s cooking makes working out to burn off the calories
more
than worth it.”

Chapter Eight

The next morning, Cordelia stood in the shower, trying to adjust to her new reality: she was Millie Baker, she was in Lawrence, Kansas, she had a closet-full of clothes that cost
way
more than a year of her salary, she was in her gigantic
ensuite
bathroom… and in two days, she was meeting someone who sold kidnapped babies.

My life is very, very weird right now.

She sighed and turned off the shower, stepped out and wrapped herself in a massive fluffy towel. She’d only ever seen towels like this in movies. The property rental agency hadn’t stinted on anything for its temporary renters, she’d been both impressed and a bit overwhelmed to see when she and Hunter –
no, Garrett
– had arrived late the night before. The house was huge, more of a mansion, really, and when they had pulled up, she’d stared at it, astounded that she’d be staying here even for a little while.

They’d stopped at a restaurant about an hour outside of Lawrence and they’d gotten changed in the bathrooms. Dallas had instructed them to show up totally in character – he’d mentioned nosy, curious neighbors – and so she’d emerged from the bathroom dressed in the nicest things to ever touch her body.

Hunter had gazed at her in the silk wrap dress that was snug in all the right places, the buttery leather strappy high heels, the stunning real, actual gold necklace around her elegant neck. She’d put on more makeup than she usually wore and her eyes and lips stood out in her gorgeous face. He’d stood to greet his ‘wife’ and at seeing her shoulder exposed by the scoop-neck of the dress, he’d been unable to stop himself from dropping a tiny kiss on the gentle curve. She’d shivered as his hot lips met her silky skin, loving his mouth on her.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he muttered in her ear as he pulled away.

“Thank you,” she breathed back, trying to look like an adoring wife without actually physically throwing herself at the man.
God
, it was a hard line to walk. “It’s quite a change for me, huh?”

“One that I could get used to.” He held out her chair, salivating as she turned and displayed her delectable ass to his gaze.

“Yeah?” she said as she sat, thinking about her wardrobe back home. It was made up of fake leather shoes, blouses bought damaged so they’d be cheaper and she either covered the stains or sewed up the holes, bargain-bin underwear and Walmart suits. “Only if I win the lottery, babe.”

“Well, Caro’s shop is out of the budget of
most
mere mortals and you
know
that.”

“True.” Cordelia thought about the lingerie selection of Caro’s store and she blushed a bit. “And it seems that the less material she sells, the higher the price goes.”

Sully peered at her. “You mean her infamous lacy delights section?”

She laughed. “You’ve seen it?”

“Oh, hell, yes.” He took a sip of coffee and felt himself grow hard at the thought of Cordelia in that hot, forest green one-piece he’d spotted on a reclining mannequin. “Damn near gave me a heart attack.”

Now Cordelia stood in front of Millie’s closet, staring at the clothes hanging there. Beautiful things, no doubt about it and she had to get used to them: a woman like Millie Baker would definitely be comfortable in this kind of clothing and so Cordelia Patton had to stop fidgeting and thinking about the price tags.

She slid open her underwear drawer and selected a mocha bra and panty set that made her feel undeniably sexy. She gazed at herself in the mirror, loving the light brown lace against her dark skin. She twisted and turned a bit, adoring what the panties did for her thighs, admiring the way that the bra lovingly cupped her full breasts. Apparently, pricey underwear
did
make a difference in some major ways.

Cordelia dressed, did her makeup, smoothed her hair so that it fell sleek and shiny down her back. Then she went out to see her husband.

He’d slept next door in one of the other four bedrooms; he also had an
ensuite
and she’d heard the water running about an hour earlier. He’d told her that he was going to go for a run every morning at around seven o’clock, so if she ever woke up to find him gone, she wasn’t to panic. Seeing as it was going on nine o’clock now, she figured he’d had his run and showered and was probably already on the laptop and working.

She wandered downstairs, following the smell of coffee and frying bacon. She paused in the doorway, observing Hunter.

He was in jeans and a t-shirt and he made them both look incredibly good. That body made
everything
look good, of course, but Cordelia loved seeing him all laid-back and casual. It was such a stark contrast to his hard face, his rippling muscles, and it reminded her that somewhere inside that unforgiving body there was a gentle, tender man.

He turned now, spotted her lurking. “Hey, hon. Mornin’.”

“Good morning.” Following his lead and assuming character, she came over and gave him a light peck on the lips. He responded, more enthusiastically than she’d expected, and her heart jumped. She stepped back quickly, tried to stay calm.

“It smells good,” she said. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

He shrugged. “I was up.”

She moved to the coffee machine. Sure, she was on the hunt for caffeine but she was also trying to get away from that tempting mouth. “Yeah, I was wiped out from the drive yesterday.”

He nodded, watched her pour a fragrant cup of coffee. “I figured… that’s why I let you sleep.”

“Yeah, normally I’d have been up around seven to do some yoga.”

“Yoga?”

“I took it up just recently,” she said as she poured milk in to her cup of salvation. “It relaxes me like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Hmmmm.” He blinked as images of her all bent over and sweaty came to mind; he pictured her arched back, her neck fully extended, her legs spread and strong. Christ, yoga was fucking sexy, when you thought about. Then again, he could find Cordelia sharpening a pencil hot and dirty – and he actually had done and more than once, at the office.

“So,” she said brightly. “What are we doing today?”

Wrenching his mind away from naked yoga, he started to plate up the bacon. “Well, when the sun goes down, we check out the place for the meet.”

“We have an address now?”

“Yeah. I got the e-mail this morning.” He nodded over at his laptop. “And the meeting has now been moved to tomorrow.”

Cordelia jumped a bit. “What? They moved it up a day? Why?”

Hunter shrugged. “To keep us on our toes.”

“Well, it’s working.” She sucked in a deep breath and ran shaking hands through her hair. “Why am I so rattled all the time?”

“Because.” He set the plate of bacon, fried mushrooms and omelet in front of her, trying to modify his harsh tone. “We’re dealing with disgusting human beings, sweetheart. Most people will never come across kidnappers in the whole of their lives and here we are, actively seeking them out. It’s wrong and goes against all basic humanity. Taking kids away from their parents and selling them? It’s – despicable.”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “OK, so. Today we run through scenarios to prep for tomorrow. Right?”

“Uh-huh.” He joined her at the island with his own plate. “Q and A, over and over, until we’ve got it down pat. Alright?”

“Yes.” She dug in to her food, knowing that she’d need her strength for this. Jack, Dallas and Griff had already put them through the paces back in Denver, but there was no such thing as being ready enough for this kind of meeting. “We practice until we’re perfect.”

**

Five hours later, the doorbell went. Cordelia and Sully stared at each other, a bit startled.

“Dallas?” she asked.

“No way.” Sully checked his gun, tucked it in to the waistband of his jeans. “He said no direct contact and anyway, if something was wrong, he’d have called. You get your gun and stay here until I call you. Yeah?”

She nodded and took the gun from her wildly-expensive designer purse. “Got it.”

Sully went to the front door slowly, trying to see through the stained glass window. He squinted, saw what looked like blonde hair. Suddenly, he had a strong intuition who was standing on the step and he sighed a bit.

He braced himself, swung the door open and sure enough, there stood three women. They ranged in age from about twenty-five to about forty, he figured, and they all held plates or bowls in their manicured hands. Their eyes lit up when they saw him and he took a step back in self-defense. He was a man who could take down a twisted stalker but he was not even
remotely
up for nosy neighborhood casserole-bringers sniffing out the newest couple on the block.

“Well,” the blonde one said, her eyes devouring his broad chest. “Hel-
lo
.”

“Hello,” he said.

“I’m Pamela Francis,” she carried on. “I live across the street. I saw you and your lovely… wife?... arrive last night and we thought we’d welcome you to the neighborhood.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“So,
is
she your wife?” the brunette asked him. “The lady in that gorgeous silk dress?”

“Yes.” Sully seized on the fact that he had backup nearby. “That’s my wife Millie.”

“Oh, how marvelous!” chirped the redhead. “Is she at home?”

“Yes!” Sully said with great relief. “Please come in and I’ll just go and get her.”

“Thank you.” They stepped in and stared around avidly.

He had just turned when he saw Cordelia standing there and he thanked God. “Hon, these ladies are here to welcome us.”

“Oh, how kind!” she twinkled. “Invite them in, Garrett.” She approached, smiling sweetly. “I’m delighted to meet you all… thank you for coming over to say hello.”

“Well, sure,” said Pamela. “We brought you a few goodies, too. Nothing too fancy – a lasagna and a salad and some banana muffins. I mean, assuming you eat carbs.”

“Oh, we do and with great enthusiasm,” Cordelia said. “Maybe you could stay for a coffee and a muffin? We could chat a bit?”

“That would be lovely,” said the redhead. “We’ll be neighbors for… what? A week?”

“Probably two,” Cordelia said smoothly as she led the ladies to the kitchen. “Garrett’s here on business and the timeline is open-ended.”

The women all gazed at him again and he backed up. “OK, then. I’ll get back to the office and do some work… you’ll be alright without me, baby?”

Cordelia winked. “For a little while.”

He nodded and left the kitchen, listening to the chatter start up right away, thanking Christ that he could escape. His ‘wife’ was good at socializing and setting people at ease and this skill had been immeasurably helpful back in Foxburg Falls. It had allowed people to relax around them as a couple while allowing Sully to stay alert and even a bit aloof. But he’d discovered that a man could be that way when he had a gorgeous, bubbly wife who distracted people from his reticence.

He shut the office door and turned on the laptop again. He’d found the place for the meet on Google maps and he was determined to study the surrounding streets until the layout was burned in to his brain. If something went wrong, he’d need to know every shortcut and side street to get them the fuck out of there in one piece.

He settled in to the chair, stared at the map and got back to work.

**

Two hours later, Cordelia tapped at the office door and opened it up. She stuck her head in, grinning.

“The coast is clear. You can come out now.”

“Thank God.” Sully got to his feet. “I’m starving.”

“I’m heating up some of the lasagna that Roberta brought us. It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”

“Roberta?”

“Yeah. Pamela’s the blonde, Roberta’s the redhead and Karen’s the brunette.” She paused. “They sound like a girl band, huh?”

“Were they nice?”

“Very, actually.” She turned to go back to the kitchen. “Smart, funny, sweet, kind.”

“Good.” He followed her, enjoying watching her generous ass in those tailored black pants. “They say anything interesting?”

“Not for our purposes, but yes. They did say one thing.” Her dark eyes sparkled as she shot him a look over her shoulder.

“OK,” he said warily, knowing that look. “What?”

“Karen’s having a barbecue next week and we’re invited.”

“We are?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess we’d better blend in and be friendly, huh?”

“I thought so too, but as it turns out, Roberta’s husband is a forensic accountant.”

“Oh.” Sully sighed. “So he’ll have lots of genuine financial knowledge. I just bet he’ll want to talk to Garrett the M&A analyst about it all.”

“Yeah, I figured that too.”

“So you said no to the barbecue?”

“I said I’d ask my husband if he was busy. You
are
meant to be here on business, after all, so you may have a work commitment that I don't know about.”

“Aw, sweet of you to think of me. And now that you mention it, we
do
have a dinner with a new client that night… so you’ll have to send Karen our regrets.” He sniffed the air as they entered the kitchen. “God. That smells amazing.”

“I know, right?” Cordelia uncovered the salad and tossed it a bit. “So, we’ll eat and then head out to the meeting place? Check it out?”

“Yeah.” He refocused now. “I want to find a few different ways to approach and leave it. Just in case.”

She nodded quietly. She knew what that meant.

“Hey,” he said. “You doing OK with all of this?”

She shrugged, shook her head, nodded and he laughed a bit at her conflicting responses.

“I guess,” she said. “I mean, I feel like I shouldn’t really be OK with
any
of this, but my feelings don’t matter in the end. This is about those kids and as long as I remember that, I’ll be fine. I’ll deal with any feelings I have later. When it’s over.”

“That’s the only way to handle ugly shit like this.”

She looked up at him. “It is?”

“Yeah. Just – just put any feelings you may have about it in to a box, lock it up, shove it on a high shelf, forget about it. When it’s all done and dusted, you can go back and get the box, open it up. Let yourself feel.”