Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
G avin polished off his second piece of banana bread and leaned back in his chair, stifling a yawn. He didn’t usually need much sleep, but today, he was wiped. When he’d first gotten out of the Army, nightmares had plagued him. Over the years, they’d eased—only resurfacing from time to time—but by then, four to five hours of sleep had become a habit. Anson McClintock’s rescue had stirred the nightmares back up. Add in having Bean under his roof, and it was no wonder he’d had a nearly sleepless night.
Downing the last of his coffee, he eyed the lone mini-blueberry scone remaining on their table’s serving platter, but he figured the ham and Gruyere quiche in the display case was probably a better bet. After the sugar overload, some protein would balance him out. Good thing he’d already logged in a couple of hours at the gym this morning.
“I can see you eyeing something, mister,” Roxie Buchanan said, patting him on the shoulder. “What else can I get you?”
Gavin grinned at the owner of Comfort Food, a café in Hudson Island’s quaint downtown that was one of his favorite places to eat. The woman was also the very pregnant wife of his good friend and colleague, Joe Buchanan, who ran Hudson Tactical.
“How about a slice of the ham quiche, but to go?” Seeing as it was nearly noon, he’d bet a hundred bucks that Bean was on her third energy drink by now. “Make it two slices but boxed separately.” He turned and eyed the case again. “And a couple slices of the blueberry pie.”
“You got it,” Roxie said with a chipper smile as she made her way back to the counter.
“Thanks, Roxie. And there’s no rush,” Gavin called after her, concerned that her walk was now more of a waddle.
“Getting extra grub to save for later?” Xander asked from across the table. “Or are you sharing with a certain someone?”
The fuck? He glared at his friend.
When the rest of their table’s occupants—Buchanan, Matt Alvarez, and Cade de la Rosa—swung their gazes his way, he groaned. “Fucking hell, Xan. Really?”
His friend shot him a shit-eating grin and waggled his eyebrows.
“And who the hell is this certain someone?” Buchanan asked before turning to Alvarez, another colleague at Hudson Security, and Cade, Gavin’s business partner at Hudson Tactical, who was also the co-owner of De La Rosa Gym. “You guys know anything about this?”
“No, but I can make an educated guess,” Alvarez answered. A small smile played on his face before he turned somber. “How is Bean? She doing okay?”
“Wait,” Cade interjected. “What happened to Bean?”
“Rumor is that she fainted and knocked her face on the edge of her desk,” Alvarez replied, grimacing.
Gavin frowned. “How the hell do you know that?”
Alvarez stared at him like he was a moron. “We have a small office, dude. And it’s not like you guys are quiet talkers. Besides, when Doc showed up yesterday, it got everyone’s attention. When you took Bean home early, Mel was at the front desk and was worried. Said B had quite the bruise on her face. Not to mention you had Owen fly Doc to Port Townsend to drop off B’s blood work.” Alvarez snagged the last remaining scone, broke it in half, and popped one of the pieces into his mouth. “See, this is why you pay me the big bucks,” he said around his bite of food. “For my top-notch investigative skills.”
Gavin shook his head. Alvarez had been a detective with the Seattle Police Department before recently joining their team at Hudson Security. While Alvarez did indeed have top-notch investigative skills, the current scenario was due to Gavin, in fact, being a moron. His actions yesterday hadn’t been subtle. At all. But he didn’t regret any of it as the worry and panic he’d felt at seeing Bean’s bruised face was still fresh in his mind.
“Fine,” Gavin said. “I’m bringing food back for Bean, because God knows what shit she’s eaten today. She claimed she didn’t have a headache this morning, but she’s still banned from working in her office today.” He glanced at Buchanan. “Your dad’s swinging by later this afternoon to check her out to make sure there’s no concussion and go over the results of her blood work.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Xander said, that stupid grin still on his face.
“It’s the least I can do for her, you fucker,” Gavin grumbled. “We pile so much shit on her plate, and she always gets everything done without complaint. I can at least bring her some goddamn food. Don’t read more into it.”
Xander leaned back in his chair with a furrowed brow. “What the hell’s that quote, you guys? The Shakespeare one? Something about protesting too much? ”
A chorus of chuckles sounded around the table. He flipped them all off. Fuckers.
“All right,” Cade said, rising. Along with running De La Rosa Gym with his brother, he was also a former MMA world champion and now one of the top MMA trainers in the world. “I have to head over to the Seattle gym for the weekend, but I have three of my coaches on Tactical’s schedule for the hand-to-hand training for the group coming in tomorrow. Is three good, or do you need another?”
“Thanks, man,” Buchanan said. “It’s a group of about twenty from a few different sheriff’s offices in Eastern Washington, so your three guys should be fine.”
“Cool. Thanks for the food, Frazier,” Cade said with a chin lift. “I’ll see you guys next week.”
As everyone said their goodbyes, Gavin reveled in the competency of the men around him. When he stepped away from the Army, he’d been at a loss about what to do. The skills he was adept in, things he had been trained for, didn’t translate to the civilian world. Hudson Security had been born out of still wanting to make a difference, but without the bureaucratic bullshit. At first, it had just been him. He was a control freak to his very core, but he’d added trustworthy people slowly. One at a time. Now, here he was. Immensely proud of not only how far Hudson Security had come, but how Hudson Tactical was standing on its own.
With just Alvarez and Xander left at the table with him—Buchanan had wandered to the Comfort Food offices to check in with his wife—Gavin said, “So there’s been a change of plans with the McClintock charity event this Saturday.”
“Everything okay?” Xander asked.
“Esme’s sick. Pneumonia. She’s arranged for Bean to go with me to the event. And before you say anything”—he gave Xander a pointed stare—“I haven’t run any of this by B yet. ”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Alvarez asked, concern evident on his expression. “We keep her under wraps.”
That was one hundred percent true. Bean’s technical title was IT Specialist. However, they made no mention of her on the company website, nor did they mention any of her skills to clients. Ever. She was completely behind the scenes. Not only for her own safety, but for Hudson Security’s safety as well.
In fact, Gavin was pretty sure her legal name was under wraps too. He and MacKay knew. Esme knew since hiring fell under her umbrella. But he was pretty sure their colleagues didn’t know B’s first name was actually Sabrina. To everyone both inside and outside of their organization, she was simply Bean.
“We still will. That’s where I need your help.” Gavin wouldn’t do anything to risk Bean’s anonymity. “We need a cover—a plausible and simple identity for her. A legit reason for her to be there with me last minute instead of Esme.”
“Well, why exactly are you going?” Alvarez asked. “You usually push off the charity event things.”
Gavin nodded. He sure as shit did. “I was initially invited by Edward McClintock. At the time, he was considering us for some cybersecurity at one of his start-ups. Then the shit with his kid went down. I was going to bail on the entire thing since Edward and Rita aren’t going anymore, but I spoke with him yesterday, and he wants me to meet one of his business partners. Esme was going to scope things out as well, get a feel for the partner.”
“I’d say Bean’s a good judge of character,” Alvarez said. “Maybe not as savvy as Esme, but with what she does, she can definitely see through bullshit pretty well.”
“True,” Xander chimed in. “But she’s always observing over cameras. Never in person. You think she’ll agree to go? I mean, she’s not exactly a fan of... people. ”
Gavin shrugged. “We’re keeping Esme’s name on the RSVP info. That way, if Bean doesn’t go, it’s no big deal.”
Alvarez ran a hand over his chin. “Then why bother bringing her in the first place? Like Xander said, she’s not exactly what anyone would call a people person.”
“I’m supposed to bring a plus-one to keep the table numbers even.” The second the words left Gavin’s mouth, he fought a cringe. And failed. The words sounded even dumber out loud than in his head.
“Bullshit. More like you’re afraid of Constance Whitcomb.” Xander snorted and turned to Alvarez. “She’s the head of the McClintock Family Foundation. You were in Seattle for forever. Do you know her?”
“Oh, everyone at the Seattle PD knows who she is.” Alvarez chuckled with a grimace. “When I was there, she was a big supporter of the department. She was a fan of the younger detectives, and I had a few colleagues who knew her quite well.”
“Not you?” Xander asked.
Alvarez shook his head. “Not that it mattered to Constance, but I was married to my ex back then. And frankly, the woman was always a little too... predatory. Not my thing.”
“I just met her the other day, and I get you,” Xander said. “I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole. Hell, Carmichael wouldn’t touch her—and believe me, she sure as shit tried with him—and that guy will bang any woman with a pulse.” He nodded at Gavin. “Pretty sure Constance has her sights set on this one. Purposely seated him next to her.”
Alvarez let out a low whistle. “Good luck, brother. Too bad about Esme. She would have held that woman at bay for you. As for Bean, just say she’s your girlfriend—not that that alone will deter Constance—but it will give you a good excuse to reject her advances. ”
“Yeah,” Xander said, that smarmy fucking smirk on his face. “Have B act as your girlfriend.”
Gavin shook his head. That’s the last thing he wanted to do. After spending the last evening with her, after having her in his home, things were... off between them.
Correction: things were off with him .
Bean treated him like she’d always treated him. Like a friend and colleague who she could give shit to without any worries he’d get offended. But now, when he looked at her—hell, when he thought of her—he pictured her seated at his kitchen table, dressed in little cotton sleep shorts and her sweatshirt hanging off her shoulder looking so...
He didn’t even know what. But whatever it was, it was so damn alluring and tempting and completely fucking inappropriate.
“No,” Gavin finally said, shaking his head, trying to dislodge that fascinating image of Bean. No luck. “That would be uncomfortable for her.” Not to mention him.
“ Right .” Xander rolled his eyes.
Gavin was tempted to flip his friend off, but before he could, Alvarez pointed between him and Xander. “I don’t know what the fuck this is about. Nor do I want to know. So let’s focus.” Alvarez leaned on the table with his elbows. “Since Frazier’s determined to make this more complicated than necessary, let’s come up with a simple backstory that Bean will actually agree to. Shall we?”
Gavin was grateful for Alvarez’s redirect.
More specifically, he was grateful to get Xander’s attention off him. His friend was perceptive and had uncanny instincts. It was one of the things that had kept Xan in one piece when he’d been a Special Forces operative, and what made him an elite security specialist and invaluable member of the Hudson Security team.
Gavin prided himself on keeping everything close to the vest. But Xander had been there last night when Bean had had him completely out of sorts. For all the shit his friend was throwing his way, Gavin had no doubt Xander had seen every second of it.
As much as he didn’t want to admit it, something had happened yesterday. Bean getting hurt had him seeing her—his longtime friend, trusted colleague, and employee—in a completely new light. A bright and intriguing new light...
Not good. This was not good at all.