Wilde for Her (A Wilde Security Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (12 page)

Eva laughed and dropped back to her seat. “I know. I guess we have to come up with some rules for this friends with benefits thing.”

He nodded and leaned toward her, flattening his palms on the counter. “Rule one: If I suggest we go to the movies, I’m not asking you on a date. Even if we end up in bed afterward, it’s still not a date.”

“Rule two,” she said. “This isn’t a permanent deal. If you find someone you’d like to pursue romantically, we’re done. We go back to plain old friendship. We’re not cheating on anyone with each other.”

“Ah, good one.” His dimple appeared again with his smile. “Should we be writing these down?”

“Smart ass.” She gave him a playful shove, then stood. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Wait, I have another rule,” he called after her. “Three: Showers are always better together.”

“Nice try, Wilde.” Walking backwards to see his reaction, she added, “And, yes, I want to get my geek on Friday if it involves Chris Hemsworth. He’s
numero uno
on my freebie list.”

Cam’s eyes narrowed. “Your freebie list?”

“Yeah. If he walked through the door right now and wanted to jump in the shower with me, it’s a freebie. Not considered cheating.” She looked at the front door expectantly and waited several seconds before snapping her fingers. “Damn. Guess it’s not happening today. A girl can dream.”

Cam pushed away from the counter and, scowling, prowled toward her. “Lemme get this straight. You’d shower with Thor—”

“In a heartbeat.”

“—but I’m not allowed.”

“I had no idea you were into tall, blond, and built Aussies, too.” Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, she spun away and continued to the bathroom. “That could be kinda hot, but I think your shower is too small for the three of us.”

She made it to the bathroom before he trapped her against the door with his heavy weight. A thrill zinged straight to her libido as his teeth caught the sensitive spot at the nape of her neck and pulled with a little, punishing tug. Goose bumps raced along her skin and her nipples pebbled, aching for the heat of his mouth. Against her back, his cock hardened and lengthened, and she went damp with anticipation.

She chuckled. “Are you jealous of my freebie list? That breaks one of the rules of friends with benefits. No jealousy.”

“Nah.” His hot breath whispered over her ear. “I just wanted an excuse to get you naked in the shower again.”

“But that’s the best thing about friends with benefits.” She turned in the circle of his arms and wound hers around his neck. “You never need an excuse.”

Chapter Sixteen

Could the week go any fucking slower?

As the city dug out from under nearly three feet of snow, Cam held down the Wilde Security office. Vaughn was out chasing leads for his missing person case, Reece had traveled up to Philly to install a home security system as soon as the roads cleared, and Jude was still on his honeymoon. And Greer—well, who the fuck knew where he was? The way he’d been ghosting around lately, he could be on Mars for all Cam knew.

On Tuesday morning, Cam tracked down Arnold Mabry and found out from the man’s parole officer that he lived in a group home for parolees and worked as an overnight stocker at the local Wal-Mart. That night, Cam went grocery shopping. He spent some time watching Mabry work and even approached him with a question about a product that was missing from the shelves. Guy was relaxed and friendly enough in that customer-is-always-right way. No nervousness and not even a flicker of recognition.

Whoever hired Soup to kill Cam, it wasn’t Mabry.

Strike one.

On Wednesday, a fed-up housewife came into the office wanting to catch her hubby in the act with his mistress. Cam didn’t much care for the woman—she was shrill and demanding and he, frankly, could see why the husband stepped out on her. He’d only spent an hour with her and ended up nursing a pounding headache by the time she left. But he took on the case because cheating spouses were Wilde Security’s bread and butter, and he was having zero luck tracking down Tom Lindquist, who never checked in with his parole officer and was in the wind.

At first, Cam had enjoyed the peace and quiet around the office as he worked on the case of the browbeaten cheater and his very own felon version of Where’s Waldo with Lindquist. It was kinda nice not having to play referee between his brothers. And, since they weren’t here, he didn’t have to worry about some hitman coming into the office and opening fire on them in an attempt to get to him, which had been a growing concern of his since the storm ended. He’d found himself getting increasingly more paranoid whenever he was around them, checking and double checking doors and windows, making sure he wasn’t followed to the office or back home. So, the week of solitude was a pleasant respite.

For a while.

Now, though, he fidgeted with a bad case of cabin fever. Funny—during the storm, he hadn’t gotten restless. But he’d had Eva to keep him company.

Eva.

He smiled and considered calling her, but a glance at the clock in the corner of his computer screen stayed his hand. She was probably still busy in court with the Dunphy case. Besides, she’d already sent him a text saying she couldn’t wait for their non-date tomorrow, because the whole police force had been pulling double-duty since the storm ended and she was in need of some downtime.

Ah, the glamorous life of a civil servant. A small, nostalgic part of him missed those days. But the rest of him told that part to fuck off. Private investigation was a good gig that paid better and had much better hours.

And long stretches of boredom. Like today.

By mid-day, Cam had played at least twenty rounds of Spider Solitaire on the computer, caught up on all the football and hockey game highlights he’d missed, and gotten his fill of Facebook—although, had to admit, it still amused the hell out of him every time he saw the meme featuring Jude in his underwear carrying a giant iguana. A tourist had taken the photo in Key West over summer, uploaded it to Reddit, and it had gone viral. Now, it was a mainstay in the strange online world of meme-dom.

And, lookie, here’s one he hadn’t seen before.

Cam sent it to the printer and taped it to what had fondly been named The Wall of Internet Shame behind Jude’s desk.

Hah. Little bro was going to love that one.

On his way back to his own desk, he stopped by the office fridge to snag a bottle of water and considered closing up shop for the day. It was foolish to sit around here doing nothing on the off-chance that someone would stop in with a job. He could be out tailing the cheater, which was about as mind-numbing as staring at Facebook all day, but at least he’d be out of the office.

No doubt Reece would have a fit if he closed early.

Decisions, decisions.

Just as Cam sat down and twisted off the cap of his water, the front door opened and Greer stalked in, bringing a bad mood and the chill of winter in his wake.

“Cam, my office.”

Cam winced, recapped the bottle of water, and set it aside before pushing away from his desk. Greer was using his Army Ranger tone again, which meant hop-to or face his wrath. Still, Cam took the time to lock the front door before heading back, and Greer was already seated behind a disaster area of a desk when he dropped into one of the visitor’s chairs.

“What’s up?”

“Have you validated the information from your informant yet?” Greer asked.

“Uh, no.” He’d been dreading this convo, but managed to keep his wince inward. “About that. My informant died of a drug overdose last weekend before the storm. I have no way of verifying what he said.”

Yeah, it was a lie—that five hundred dollars in Soup’s pocket had pretty much put to rest any doubts he had about the validity of the information. Someone had given Soup that money and he’d most likely died because he took the down payment but didn’t do what he’d been paid for.

The contract on Cam’s head was real.

But this was one case he was going to handle on his own. It was too dangerous, and he wouldn’t risk any of his brothers getting hurt for him.

Greer didn’t explode like Cam had expected. Actually, he looked too tired to get angry about anything. Probably why he simply nodded in response. “So do you know of anyone who wants you dead?”

Cam lounged back in the creaky wood chair. “I already told you, the list is long and varied.”

And had recently grown by one with Eva’s news about the Dunphy-Adams case finally going to trial. He’d forgotten about Gordon Dunphy, but the guy, as a fairly well-off real estate broker, fit the vague description of the man who offered Soup a thousand dollars for Cam’s life.

Although, Cam had no clue why Gordon would want him dead when he no longer had any influence over the case. Hell, maybe Gordon was just a champion grudge holder. Something worth checking into later—but not something his brothers needed to worry about.

Greer eyed him over a stack of papers. “You’re not too concerned about any of this.”

“No. As I said before, it’s probably nothing. Soup used to be a good informant, but his reliability has slipped over the last few years as the drugs took over his life. I would not be surprised if he made it all up to squeeze me for money.” Cam leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “And, honestly, I’m more worried about you. You could drive a semi though those bags under your eyes. Tell me the truth, have you been sleeping?”

Greer waved a dismissive hand. “Couple hours a night.”

“That’s not enough.”

“I’ve survived on less.”

“I don’t doubt that. But, here’s the thing, bro. You don’t
have
to survive on less. So, wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing. I’m good.”

“And I’m Iron Man. Seriously, Greer.”

Greer spun his chair toward the little window on the wall behind him, which overlooked the small fenced-in dog park of his apartment complex across the way. A woman stood bundled against the cold as her golden retriever romped through the snow drifts, and Greer focused intently on the two of them.

All right. Cam knew a dismissal when he saw one. He stood, but couldn’t make himself leave. “You ever need to talk, I’ll listen.” He got half way to the door before Greer spoke again.

“Nightmares.”

Damn. Cam paused and glanced back. His brother hadn’t moved, still watched the woman and her dog playing like his life depended on keeping them in his sight. “What kind?”

“Just…nightmares. They’ll go away. Always do.” He cleared his throat and turned away from the window, but only slightly. “Go get some legwork done on the cheating husband case. I’ll close up here.”

Cam left his brother’s office with a knot in his gut. Grabbed his jacket and cell phone from his desk and waited until he was in the 4Runner before dialing a number he’d gotten in Key West.

Seth Harlan answered after a half dozen rings, sounding wary. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Cam Wilde.”

“Cam?” The wariness evaporated into surprise. “Oh. Hi. Uh, what can I do for you?”

“I have a question and it’s kinda personal, but I’m worried about someone, and I need to know the answer.”

A beat of silence came from the other end, and he imagined Seth mentally fortifying himself.

“Okay, I’m ready. Go ahead.”

“How did your PTSD first present itself?”

Seth sucked in a breath. “Nightmares,” he said on the exhale. “About a week after I woke up in the hospital, I started having nightmares.”

“Shit. That’s what I was afraid you’d say.” Except something wasn’t ringing true here. “You said it started about a week after you regained consciousness? Is that a normal time span for the on-set of symptoms?”

“Yeah. Symptoms can appear anytime from right after the traumatic event up to three months later.”

“But not years later.”

“Not usually,” Seth answered. “No.”

Cam stared at the front of the Wilde Security office, an acidic pit opening up in his stomach. Greer had been out of the military for a long time. Too long to just now be experiencing the symptoms of PTSD…so what the fuck was going on?

“It’s your oldest brother you’re worried about, isn’t it?” Seth asked softly.

Surprise rippled through Cam, and he returned his full attention to the phone. “How’d you know?”

“I saw it in him at Jude’s wedding. He was jumpy, crowd made him nervous. At first I thought I was projecting, but…” He paused. “If you want to give me his number, I can talk to him. Dunno how much good I’ll do because I’m a head case myself, but maybe I can help.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

Seth made a sound that might have been a laugh. “You Wildes are all the same. You don’t owe me shit.”

…

A Kit Kat bar sat on Eva’s desk when she returned from a disastrous day in court. Christ, did she ever need the chocolate pick-me-up. The judge had declared a key piece of evidence inadmissible, which made her testimony irrelevant and was going to seriously hurt the prosecution’s case against Charles Dunphy.

The memory of his brother Gordon’s smug smile as she exited the courtroom still made her blood run cold.

Eva unwrapped the candy, broke off a piece, and searched for Cam. He was the only one who ever dropped chocolate on her desk, so he had to be here…

She spotted him talking to a few other detectives over by the coffee maker and waved. He caught her gaze and smiled faintly, then excused himself from the conversation.

“Thanks for the chocolate,” she said as he approached and bit into a piece.

“Figured you’d need it. I heard about what happened in court today.”

“Sheesh. Good news travels,” she said, heavy on the sarcasm, and took another bite of her candy.

Cam nodded. “Nothing faster. I know we have plans for tomorrow, but want to grab a bite and talk it over?”

She started to decline. With how backed up the department was because of the storm, she should decline. But he seemed…worried. Or something. Besides, she was off for the night, and the idea of spending time with Cam sent a thrill jittering around her belly.

“Sure, but you’re buying.” She broke off another stick from her Kit Kat and pointed it at him. He leaned forward and bit it out of her hand, which so should not have lit her up with all kinds of erotic fantasies. Heat shot straight between her thighs and she looked around, afraid that somehow, someone had noticed her sudden arousal. She was in a room full of detectives, after all, but the only person the least bit interested in the flush riding her cheeks was Cam. He grinned and slung an arm over her shoulders, all buddy-buddy like, but the warmth radiating from him only amped up her desire.

They made it as far as the parking lot.

Cam crushed her up against his SUV’s door, and his mouth descended, hot and demanding, full of erotic temptation. The heat she’d felt with his embrace inside was nothing like the inferno that engulfed her now, and the freezing wind whipping her hair around her head went unnoticed. She clutched his shoulders, dragging him in tighter, needing him closer.

He grinned into the kiss. “Demanding.”

“Horny,” she corrected.

He patted her ass. “Maybe we can do something about that later.”

Later?

Christ, she was so hot, she was surprised her skin wasn’t steaming right now.

Cam laughed and backed away. In his absence, the cold air slapped some sense into her and she straightened her twisted coat, scanning the parking lot to make sure nobody saw that moment of indiscretion with her best friend. She must be losing her ever-loving mind.

Cam nudged her aside, then opened the car door for her. She wanted to kick him for it. Her feelings must have been broadcasted loud and clear in her expression because his grin only widened, and he added a quick bow and a murmured, “My lady,” before shutting the door.

She punched his bicep when he climbed into the driver’s side. “You’re such an asshat.”

“You wouldn’t want me any other way.”

Grumbling, she slouched into the seat and watched the passing streets. Sad truth was, he’d hit the nail on the head. She didn’t want him any other way…

Well, except maybe naked.