Tickle His Fancy: Trident Security Book 6 (Trident Security Series) (2 page)

Acknowledgements

As always, I want to thank my Beta Readers—Jessica, Julie,
Brandie, Charla, Jen, and Abby. You all are the best!

I also want to thank my editor, Eve Arroyo, for putting up
with my quirks and loving my characters as much as I do!

For Milynn for letting me pick her brain and helping me with
some of the technical stuff. You were awesome!

Thanks to my Facebook group—The Sexy Six-Pack Sirens—for all
your support, shout outs, input, and putting a smile on my face every day.

“Oh, my darlin’,

Oh, my darlin’,

Oh, my darlin’, Clementine.

You are lost and gone forever,

Dreadful sorry, Clementine.”

The song being sung over and over again helped Christie
emerge from a deep sleep. As the fog slowly cleared from her mind, it occurred
to her she had no idea where she was or who was singing. Realizing it wasn’t a
dream, she opened her eyes, but couldn’t see a thing. A blindfold was only
allowing a small sliver of light to show through. She struggled to sit up, but
her limbs wouldn’t move—they were restrained to the point where she was spread
eagle on a mattress. Her first thought was she must be in a private room at the
club, Heat, and coming out of subspace. But the stench of urine and lack of
thumping club music told a different story.

Panic was starting to set in, and she thrashed against the
restraints. A ball gag in her mouth prevented her from screaming at the top of
her lungs.

“Oh, goodie. You’re awake, my darling Clementine. Now the fun
can begin.”

Christie turned her head in the direction of the deep voice
she didn’t recognize. Whoever he was, he knew the nickname she went by in the
BDSM club she frequented. That’s where she’d been last. . .wasn’t it?
No. . .wait. . .the last thing she remembered was leaving
her friends at a bar they’d gone to and going home. Her visit to Heat had been
the night before. Or had more time passed since then? She had no clue.

Her naked body trembled as footsteps scraped across the
floor, approaching her. The blindfold was yanked from her face, and she blinked
against the harsh overhead lightbulb. When her vision focused, she stared at
the man standing over her with an evil grin on his face and a bullwhip in his
hands. They were in a damp room with concrete walls covered in dirt and. . .oh
God! Was that blood?

Fear, unlike anything she’d ever known, attacked every cell
in her body. She finally recognized him. He was a Dom, but she’d never played
with him before. He was into the stuff she had on her hard limit list, so she’d
avoided him the few times he’d shown up at the club. So what was she doing with
him now? She couldn’t remember when she’d seen him last—it had to have been, at
least, a few weeks ago.

Struggling to pull her arms and legs free, she tried to ask
him what was going on as tears rolled down her temples. “
Mmm-umm-mmmm
?”

“What’s that?” He dramatically cupped his ear. “I couldn’t
quite hear you. Oh, that’s right, you can’t exactly talk with the ball gag, now
can you? Sorry, Clementine, but that stays in place, for now. Don’t worry,
though. When I return in a little while, I’ll remove it. After all, I want to
hear you scream before you die.”

Turning off the engine of his Ford F150, Brody Evans sighed.
How the fuck he had been roped into this, he didn’t know, but his boss
definitely owed him. Ian Sawyer, co-owner of Trident Security, had been called
away on urgent business at the Pentagon. Meanwhile, the rest of their six-man
team of former Navy SEALs-turned-private security operatives were all scattered
on either professional or personal business. That left him to escort Ian’s
fiancée, Angie Beckett, to a local bakery to taste-test wedding cakes. The big
event was six weeks away, and the couple suddenly found themselves without a
baker after the one they’d hired closed up shop without notice. At least Brody
would get to satisfy his sweet tooth on some, hopefully, yummy pastries.

Across the bench seat, Angie opened her door at the same time
he did. Meeting her in front of the truck, he scanned the area. Being aware of
his surroundings was second nature to him, especially when Angie was with him.
The two had become friends after he’d bought the house next to hers over a year
ago and then ended up on her protection detail when her life had been in
danger. He loved all his teammates’ significant others, but he’d developed an
extra special bond with his boss’s woman—strictly platonic, of course. Not that
he didn’t think she wasn’t downright smokin’ hot, but he valued his job, his friendship
with Ian, and his life too much to do something stupid, like hit on her. And
even though they all participated in the BDSM lifestyle, Ian didn’t share like
some of them did.

Holding open the door to Fancy Creations for Angie, he
followed her inside and inhaled deeply.
Holy crap, it’s a diabetic’s
nightmare in here
. Thank God, he wasn’t a diabetic. His mouth watered at
all the delicious smells. He was definitely going to have to take some of the
sweet confections home with him.

A college-age woman putting a tray of goodies in a display
case smiled and greeted them. “Hi, what can I get you today? We have some fresh
cinnamon rolls that just came out of the oven.”

Angie stepped over to the counter in between the display
cases, which had several covered trays on top of them filled with cookies and
cupcakes. “Hi. We have an appointment with Fancy about a wedding cake.”

“Oh, sure. She’ll be out in a minute.” The cute blonde
pointed at a few tables on the opposite side of the shop, several of which were
taken by people chatting and eating pastries. “You can have a seat over there.
Can I bring you some coffee?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

Stepping over to the coffee machine, she glanced at Brody and
got her first unobstructed view of him, her eyes growing wide as she took in
his six-foot-two, two-hundred-fifty-pounds-of-solid-muscle body. His mouth
moved upward into the dimpled grin which made many a woman drop to her knees in
front of him, and let his Texas drawl rumble out a little stronger than usual.
“Thanks, darlin’. Milk and sugar in both. Can ya’ll box up a dozen of those
cinnamon rolls for me, too? I’ll bring ‘em back to work for everyone.”

When he winked at her, a blush appeared on her cheeks before
she nodded and almost knocked over a tower of unused coffee cups. Following
Angie over to the table, Brody sat next to her as she rolled her eyes. Leaning
closer to him so she couldn’t be overheard, she teased, “You’re such a
man-whore, Egghead.”

“It’s a God-given talent to make women of all ages blush, and
I’m damn glad he blessed me with it.” Part of him was being cocky, but his
friends all knew it was true. He was a natural flirt, and nothing turned him on
more than when a woman blushed, as he imagined what other parts of her body
would turn the same shade of pink.

She laughed at him, and then her eyes shifted toward the door
to the shop’s kitchen. He followed her gaze and his mouth watered once more at
what he saw. The woman walking toward them was about five foot five with curves
that could knock a man’s eyes out of their sockets. The fact that she was
wearing an unflattering white chef’s outfit did nothing to stop his
appreciation of her luscious body. Her auburn hair was pulled up into a neat
bun at the crown of her head, and her brilliant, green eyes reminded him of the
soft moss found in the forest surrounding Trident’s safe house in North
Carolina. In his mind, her movements slowed, and some cheesy porn music began
to play. Her smile lit up the room and caused a stirring in his groin.

She was only a few steps away when he realized he was
staring. Giving himself a mental shake, he stood as she reached them.

“Hi, I’m Fancy Maguire.” Her gaze was focused on Angie, who
had remained seated. “You must be Angie and Ian. It’s so nice to meet you.”

Brody snorted. “Not.” At her startled expression, he
scrambled to clarify. “Sorry. This is Angie, but I’m not Ian.”

Glancing at a clipboard and papers she’d brought with her
along with a photo album, she frowned. “I’m sorry. Did I get that wrong when I
spoke to you on the phone?”

Smacking Brody’s hip, Angie rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t.
This is our friend, Brody. My fiancé, Ian, was called out of town on business,
so I dragged him with me.”

The baker was clearly relieved with that information if her
sigh was any indication. “Oh, good. Thought I’d made an error from the get-go,
which isn’t a way to make a good impression in this business.”

When Fancy extended her hand toward Brody, he took it in both
of his and brought it to his lips. After kissing her knuckles, he winked at
her. “There is absolutely no way you could make a bad impression, darlin’. The
name is Brody Evans, and it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Narrowing her eyes a little at his boldness, Fancy tugged on
her hand, attempting to remove it from his grasp while trying not to be rude.
He knew if they weren’t in a business setting and he wasn’t a customer, she
would have no problem blurting out the words which had to be on the tip of her
tongue.
Awesome
. He loved when he had to work a little before cozying up
to a woman. It was the chase that drew him in and made the end result that much
better. And since the lovely lady didn’t have a ring on her finger, she was
fair game for his charm.

The second her mouth began to turn into a frown, he knew it
was time to let go. Releasing her, he gave her another wink then waited for her
to take the seat across the table from them before he sat down again. “Not that
I wouldn’t mind the beautiful Ms. Angelina Beckett being my fiancée, but I have
no desire to be Ian. He doesn’t have enough fun in his life unless Angie is
with him. Me? I’m all for fun and games.”

“I’m sure you are,” Fancy murmured to his delight before
turning her attention to Angie. “Now, I remember you saying your baker closed
up shop and the event is in six weeks.”

The bride-to-be nodded as the young woman manning the counter
brought over their coffees and placed them on the table. Brody grinned at her,
causing the blonde to turn pink again while Angie thanked her before responding
to the baker. “Yes. Without warning, his place closed. I know there are a lot
of people trying to get their deposits back. Our wedding date is October 15th.”

“Do you have a picture of what the cake you chose looked
like? We can start there.”

Pulling out printouts she’d made this morning, Angie handed
them over. “This was what we had decided on, but honestly, looking at them now,
I’m not sure if it’s what I want anymore. There just seems to be something
missing, but I don’t know what it is.”

Fancy studied the two pictures—a close-up and a wide-angle
version—then opened the photo album and flipped through several pages. “It’s a
good start, but I think we can jazz it up a little more. Where is the wedding
being held?”

“The Vinoy in St. Petersburg.”

“Great. Love that place—it’s so elegant—and we’ve done
several weddings there recently.” She found the pictures she was looking for
and turned the album around for Angie to see. “This we did just a few weeks
ago. Instead of the white plastic separators between the tiers, the venue supplied
the wine glasses which we inverted. Then the bride arranged for the small
floral pieces that we put under each glass so they matched the table
centerpieces.”

“Oh, I love that! It’s different, and that’s exactly what I’m
looking for. Brody, what do you think?”

He’d barely been paying attention to their conversation.
Instead, he’d been studying Fancy’s face. It was rounded and full, with just a
hint of dimples when she smiled. A smattering of freckles rose up and over her
nose from one cheek to the other. While he had no doubt she was a headstrong,
competent businesswoman, he’d bet a year’s membership to The Covenant she was a
sexual submissive. Being in the lifestyle for over ten years, he could spot one
a mile away. The problem was sometimes women didn’t know it, or if they did,
they were too afraid to explore that part of their sexuality. “
Hmm
?
What?”

Angie pointed to the album as his gaze went back and forth
between the two women. “The cake. What do you think of this cake?”

Glancing at the photo, all he saw was a huge white cake with
lots of flowers. “It’s nice, but don’t go by my opinion. All men care about is
what it tastes like. Sweet and yummy is all I need to satisfy me.”

This time, it was Fancy who rolled her eyes, while beside
him, Angie groaned. It was clear they both knew he was talking about something
other than a cake. “Why did I bother to bring you with me?”

It was a rhetorical question, which he didn’t bother to
answer as he continued to observe the woman sitting across from him. Fancy
turned her head to address her employee, who had gone back to her post behind
the counter. “Jamie, can you ask Sal to bring out the samples for Ms. Beckett
to try?”

“Sure.”

A grin spread across Brody’s face. It didn’t escape his
notice that he was intentionally left out of her question.
Well, we’ll just
see about that.
He was looking forward to tasting anything the beautiful baker
was offering.

Sal, a short, older man, dressed in white with an apron
wrapped around his waist, brought out a tray laden with several small plates,
topped with slices of assorted cakes—each one more delicious looking than the
last. The man had also supplied two forks so Brody didn’t have to search for
one or use his fingers. Either way, he was definitely sampling the delicacies. He
listened as Fancy explained each one, from the type of cake and filling to the
icing, and then stole a bite after Angie had taken hers. They were so
delicious, he had no shame in taking a second taste of each. If the rest of
Fancy’s pastries were this good, he was going to be stopping in often. The
bonus to that was he’d be seeing a lot more of her, and a plan of seduction
began to take root in his mind.

In the end, he and Angie agreed the best one was the
champagne cake with a strawberry buttercream filling and fondant icing. The
women then discussed the decorations for the cake and Fancy explained what
Angie needed to order from her florist. As the baker finished writing up the
order and took the deposit check, Brody sipped the last of his coffee. When she
handed Angie the receipt and a business card, he held out his hand. “Mind if I
get one of those business cards, too?”

If he hadn’t been observing her so intently, he might have
missed the fraction of a second’s hesitation before she gave him a forced
smile. “Sure. Are you planning on getting married soon, too?”

He smirked as he accepted the small card. “You never know,
darlin’. I’m just waiting for the right woman to come along, and one never
knows when their soul mate will cross their path.”

The sadness which briefly clouded her eyes wasn’t lost on him,
and he wondered what had brought it on—the word “soul mate,” maybe? Whatever it
was from, it didn’t scare him off. In fact, it made him want to take her into
his arms and comfort her, among other things. For now, though, he would leave
things be and look forward to the next time he visited Miss Fancy Maguire’s
bakery—which he was planning on doing tomorrow.

After they’d climbed into his truck with the bag full of
cinnamon rolls, Brody noticed Angie grinning at him in amusement. “What? What’s
that look for?”

Shrugging her shoulder, she snickered. “It looks like the pretty
baker teased more than your taste buds.”

Laughing, he started the engine. “That she did, you little
brat. And I plan on having her tease me some more real soon.”

“Well, you still haven’t told me who you’re bringing to the
wedding. Maybe you can bring her. I like her.”

He pursed his lips and tilted his head to the side. All of
his buddies had settled down, and the funny thing was everyone had thought
Brody would be the first to fall. “Maybe…and I like her, too.”

There was a moment of silence between them as he pulled out
of the parking lot into the afternoon traffic. “Brody? Do you mind stopping at
Donovan’s for another cup of coffee? There’s something I want to talk to you
about.”

At her wistful tone, his eyes narrowed as he glanced at her.
“Everything all right, sweetheart?”

“Yes! Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just. . .well,
I’ll explain when we get there.”

Relieved there wasn’t anything seriously wrong, he nodded
then prepared to change lanes. “Okay. Sure.”

Since Donovan’s was only two blocks away, it wasn’t long
before they were walking into the pub which belonged to Mike Donovan, brother
of Brody’s co-worker Jake. The owner waved from behind the bar where he was
chatting with two old-timers who were constant fixtures during the weekday
afternoons. Instead of taking his usual seat at the far end of the bar, Brody
followed Angie to one of the booths along the left side wall. Knowing all of
the Trident men hated having their backs to the front door of any place they
were in, Angie sat in the booth facing the rear of the restaurant.