Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Redemption for Misty (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Pierce Securities Book 5) (3 page)

They stared at each other, her eyes quickly filling with heat as she shifted where she stood but didn’t back away. He knew she wanted him, maybe as much as he wanted her. But he knew himself. Chris knew his feelings for her went far beyond a quick roll in the hay. As his hopes rose with Misty, he wondered if she felt the same way, or if this was just physical for her. Could she even do something purely physical after the attack she’d survived? He wouldn’t touch her again unless he knew for sure.

Chris knew he couldn’t just fuck her and walk away. And he wouldn’t. Shit. He wouldn’t be able to. God, this was stupid. He didn’t know any of the little things about her. He had no clue what her favorite color was, her favorite movie, or if she even liked flowers. He needed to stop. Now.

He was the one who backed up a step. “I’m going to go shower real quick, and then I’ll help out if you need me to.” A
cold
shower.

He needed to get out of the kitchen before he took her over the counter, claimed her, and made her his.

Chapter four

Misty had planned a simple pasta dinner for tonight, since she was trying out a new recipe, but hadn’t counted on Chris being so damn hot and sweaty. Everything the man did was insanely hot. Sure, mowing the lawn in August with no shirt was normal, but looking like that? She’d nearly come unglued when she’d walked outside to ask him about grilling and saw that.

And then she swore he’d gotten an erection from her apple strudel, judging by the bulge in his jeans. Not that she’d looked.

Oh, who was she kidding? She
loved
looking at the man. He was hawtness personified. Like, if hawt were in the dictionary, there would be a picture of Chris, mowing the yard and licking apple strudel from his lips.

Thank God he’d left to go shower before she’d done something embarrassing, like launch herself at him and lick his torso.

Misty shook her head as the shower in his room started up. She wouldn’t picture him naked and soapy, running his hands all over his muscles. She wouldn’t.

Instead, she would think about all the reasons it was a bad idea. His nickname was Nova, for crying out loud. Like, Nova, as in
Casanova
. He probably had a girl for every day of the month, without repeats. Yeah. Thinking of that was like getting doused with a bucket of ice water. She wasn’t really the jealous type, but she didn’t like to imagine Chris with other women.

The thought soured her stomach, so she was completely lucid when he came back into the kitchen, fully dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot, with wet hair. She was
totally
in her right mind when she got a whiff of his shower gel, and a water droplet fell on her arm as he leaned over and tasted her sauce, his tongue licking his lips, leaving a wet trail behind. Yep.

“What can I do to help?” he murmured in her ear, sending a shiver of awareness down her spine.

“Uh, you can drain the pasta. Pour it in here. Mix it all up.” Yep. Totally coherent. She mentally high-fived herself for stupidity personified, and then started carrying the salad to the table.

From where he stood at the sink, Chris said, “I think it’s cool you eat at the table every night. I like that, it’s nice.”

“Thanks. If it were up to Andrew, he’d eat in front of the TV all the time. I don’t cook a good meal every night to have it consumed without thought while watching the news. It sort of forces him to appreciate me.” She laughed as she said it, remembering all the fights she and Andrew had had about her rule. It was the one thing she insisted on, and he’d begrudgingly agreed to do it. Now, she swore he looked forward to it. Andrew was never late to dinner.

Chris walked to the table, carrying the giant pan with the pasta and shrimp with the sauce in it. She’d made too much, but the man ate like a bear, so she didn’t think there would be many leftovers. Misty had also noticed he woke up in the middle of the night and ate whatever was left from dinner.

“How’s the shop going? I mean, I see you’re busy all day, but are there enough profits for donations?” Chris asked as he scooped himself a giant portion of the shrimp pasta and then salad onto his plate.

“It’s going well. I’ve only been open six months, and I don’t think everybody understands my purpose yet. I’m still working on that. I have a Chamber mixer in a couple of weeks that I’m going to, and I’m hoping to spread the word there.” In fact, she was really nervous about the mixer. Misty really enjoyed her job, always had loved being a barista, but found talking about her own business difficult. It seemed like she was tooting her own horn, and she didn’t want to come across as cocky.

Chris was eating, making appreciative noises through mouthfuls of food, his lips glistening with sauce, and Misty clenched her thighs together to relieve the sudden pressure there. This was an innocent conversation, so why did she constantly think about sex with this guy?

“Um, do you want to go with me? Maybe you could get some business, too, for your digital presence stuff.” She sounded like a moron and was about to take it back, but he looked up at her, his blue eyes melting her insides.

She ignored it, as well as the pulsing between her legs, as he spoke, “By the way, I looked at your website, and it looks awesome, but whoever put it together didn’t do much with the SEO and hooking it up to other places. I can work on that if you want. I also have a printer I do business with who could do a mock-up of some signage for you. Like, if you wanted to do a monthly earnings/donation thing to advertise your goals for the shop and show how much you’ve got going toward it. A little transparency in that regard might be good for business, letting the customers see exactly where your money goes and how well you’re doing. It would help get them more invested.”

Misty was a little overwhelmed by the shift in conversation. She’d gone from pseudo-asking him out to discussing SEO. Her head spun while she tried to keep up. “I think some kids in Evan and Paige’s internship program at the high school made the website, so that probably explains why it’s like that. I hadn’t thought about the other. I’ll have to run it by Mia to make sure it’s okay, but I think it sounds like a great idea. Maybe we could meet with Mia and Evan sometime this week to discuss it.”

“Sure. I’ve got a client meeting on Friday, but I’ve actually scheduled it at the shop, so I’ll be around.” He scooped a forkful of pasta into his mouth and chewed. “I’d love to go to the mixer with you.” His eyebrows waggled suggestively. “Would it be like a date?”

Misty had to remind herself again of the Nova moniker as she decided he was trying to trip her up. “Not really. I mean, we could ride together, but kissing afterward is probably out of the question.” She tried to laugh as she spoke, attempting some levity, but they both fell silent as the word “kiss” floated between them, drifting around the awkward silence like silky tresses, caressing their skin. Chris’s eyes fell on her lips and stayed there, as if he were imagining it. His fingers gripped his fork until his knuckles whitened, and Misty’s thighs were getting a marvelous isometric workout, pressing together so tightly a penny couldn’t fit between them.

He finally dropped his eyes to his plate before muttering something under his breath and shoveling more food into his mouth. That was her cue to do the same.

Finally, after minutes of awkward silence, Chris turned the conversation back to business. Misty desperately tried to keep up. “You have a great location, right across from the capitol building. That’s an impressive feat.”

“That’s all Evan and Jordan. They wanted someplace safe and profitable. Jordan and Mia scoped it out, and Evan put up the money.”

His blue eyes narrowed on her as she finished her pasta. He leaned back in his chair, the picture of casual indifference, and Misty knew him well enough to know his next observation would be more important to him than he cared to admit. So she listened carefully.

“You spend a lot of time around those men. Jordan and Evan. Is something going on?”

She smiled, containing her laughter, barely. “No. They’re both taken. Jordan was one of the guys who saved me and Mia. Now they’re engaged to each other. And Evan is his brother, totally belongs to Paige.”

Chris seemed to genuinely relax then, his muscles going lax so he actually was reclining. “Well, remind me to thank him next time I see him.” His eyes glazed over a bit as he went someplace else inside his head, and his jaw clenched, making the temples above his chiseled jaw bones tick. “Is there anyone else? Any boyfriends?”

She shook her head, pushing her plate back. “No. I had one, but he couldn’t handle the incident, so he broke up with me. It was too much pressure for him to be with a girl who was recovering from something like that.” Truth was, he’d been pissed she wasn’t interested in sex after being kidnapped. Misty didn’t have a memory of being raped, like Mia did, but she didn’t have many memories of the actual time spent tied to Michael’s bed, aside from Michael getting very angry with her for being so vocally against the arrangement. But honestly, she couldn’t
not
tell him what a sicko he was being for tying her to his bed in an attempt to tame her. Mostly, her memories came from trying to survive for days with multiple injuries on the floor of his garage. Trent had tried to be nice about it, but neither one of them was invested enough in the relationship to begin with for it to survive something like that. They’d broken up amicably. No hard feelings.

But Chris seemed pissed on her behalf. His temple was ticking madly, and she could see his jaw flex where his teeth ground together, his eyes arctic as a glacier.

“Really. It’s no big deal. We weren’t that into each other.” Misty was trying to reassure him, even though she didn’t understand why he was so upset.

“What about the guy at the coffee shop?” There were tons of “guys” at the coffee shop. At her blank look, he continued, feet firmly planted on the floor, suddenly engaged and alert. Her answer was important to him, but she didn’t know who he was talking about. “The latte guy, the shy one who never looks you in the eye but hangs around watching you for thirty minutes every morning.”

“Saul?” This time, she couldn’t contain her laughter, and Chris’s posture relaxed a little. “No. Not interested in Saul, nothing going on with Ghost, either. None of my regulars at the shop are a thing with me. There isn’t anybody in my life right now. Just friends.” Her laughter faded to a smile, and she wondered why he was so interested, but when he smiled back at her, the dimple in his cheek made her breath hitch.

In an effort to dispel the sudden awkwardness, Misty stood and gathered her plate. “I’m going to clear off the table and leave you the dishes. Is that okay?”

“Absolutely. That was an awesome dinner.” Chris wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood with her. “Is there any strudel left for me?”

And with that, all the awkwardness was back. Misty remembered his eyes when he’d taken the strudel from her fingers, and she was tempted to tell him he could have it if he smeared it all over her body and then licked it off. Suppressing her shiver, she turned her back on him and the image he invoked.

“Sure, help yourself. I’m going to go watch TV in my room.”

She needed to get the hell out of here.

Chapter five

Chris was settled at the shop, working diligently on a logo for the new client he’d met the day before. It was Saturday, and they were pretty slow compared to the weekdays near the capitol building. But there was still a steady stream of tourists visiting the State Capitol building and picnicking on the lawn, stopping in for coffee before they hit the road.

Misty had just refilled his cup, one of her hands full with two fresh cappuccinos and the coffee pot in the other. When the noise started, everyone in the coffee shop jumped, but Misty’s reaction was more severe, and Chris completely lost it.

Pop. Pop.

Everything slowed down for Chris. Misty’s body jerked, and she hissed loudly, as if in pain. All he could do was react. Still in slow motion, he leaped from his seat, diving toward his girl. He tackled her to the ground as she yelled in obvious pain.

Then he was covered in hot, wet blood. He’d forgotten how hot blood was. But Misty’s blood was boiling. And she was groaning.

“Where are you hurt?” She’d been shot. Right here in front of him. Crash was going to kick his ass. And he might as well just go home to his mom. There was no way he could forgive himself. He should have made her stay in the kitchen, where there weren’t any windows. Or home. Yeah. She’d be safe at home. His hands skated across her body, looking for wounds, but all he could feel was hot wetness. It felt like weird blood. It wasn’t sticky at all.

“Why don’t you take her into the kitchen?” Ghost asked, a thin smile on his lips. “Those Volkswagen backfires can be brutal.”

Chris climbed off Misty, who rolled over to expose a wet, brown torso. Coffee. He’d burned her with coffee. What he’d done hit him like a punch in the gut.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Without another word, Chris scooped her up and held her in his arms while she tried to hold her shirt away from her skin. She hadn’t been shot. Chris had burned the ever-loving shit out of her with hot coffee.

She weighed nothing as he toted her into the kitchen, cursing apologies the entire way. “Jesus, Misty. I’m so fucking sorry. So fucking sorry.”

“What did you think it was, Chris? Somebody blowing up the capitol?” God love her. She was joking with him while in obvious pain.