S.O.S. Perk (S.O.S. #6)

CHAPTER TWO

Perk figured he should be discouraged. But really? He’d kind of known what Agent Ves…uh, Sloane’s response would be. He could fight her on it, but where, in the past, had that ever gotten him? Nowhere. Because of his youthful appearance, most people tended not to take him seriously when he attempted to argue. But because of that fucked-up situation, he’d also inadvertently discovered a more effective arsenal. Something that often worked for him: a cute smile, a flash of dimples, and a noncommittal shrug.

Perk couldn’t begin to count the number of times those things had him winning a would-be disagreement.

He hit Sloane now with his locked and loaded soft ordnance.

She scowled at Perk. “What, exactly, does that mean?” she asked, pointing to his face with a finger and circling it like exhibit A.

“What does what mean?” he asked, innocently blinking.

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Perk. You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she chastised him. “That…face.”

Perk opened his baby-blues even wider. He wasn’t beyond using the tools that had been God-given. “ My face?” he questioned. “Seriously, Sloane? This is just who I am.”

“Cut the crap.” She clearly wasn’t buying it. “Right now, you’re doing some over-the-top, innocent, charming thing. That grin you’ve plastered on is not your normal one.”

Perk wanted to pump his fist. Her comment wasn’t the negative she thought it was. The woman had clearly been taking note of his expressions. She knew the difference between what he was flashing now, and his everyday good-natured attitude.

He’d hoped she wasn’t impervious to him. That she’d been paying attention to his displays, said a lot. Which was the main reason he’d gone out on a precarious limb and invited her to the wedding. He’d wanted to see if some of her normal barriers would drop, and he could coerce her into admitting her interest in him.

Now, to see if he could circumvent her “I don’t date,” edict.

He gave her another innocuous, aww-shucks shoulder shrug. “I guess I didn’t realize I was smiling at you differently. But, Sloane,” he liked how her name felt on his tongue, “it must mean I really like you.”

She grunted. “There’s nothing to like.”

“Oh, come on,” he prodded. “You’re smart, dedicated, and…” Should he go for it? Why not. Sloane already had him pegged as a young, pretty-boy player. “…very beautiful.”

Her brows scrunched together, forming a V between her brown eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to soothe the worried lines away.

“Cut the crap, Perkins. I’m nothing special to look at. But even if your visual acuity isn’t compromised and you believe what you’re saying, flattery won’t get you anywhere. I’m still not interested in dating you.”

Perk watched Sloane closely, satisfied. Her mouth said one thing, but her posture said something entirely different. She’d actually, inadvertently leaned toward him as she’d spoken.

And what was with the insistence that she wasn’t gorgeous? Where could that idea have come from? The woman was stunning. Maybe not in a traditional sense, but she had such compelling features. Her caramel-colored eyes tipped up slightly at the ends, poised just the right amount of distance apart above well-defined cheekbones. Her hair, although chopped short at chin length, was lush, and auburn. His favorite color. And he could tell she’d unsuccessfully tried to tame some wayward curls, which he would be sure to mess up if he ever got the opportunity.

Her nose was a tiny, upturned button, and if he wasn’t mistaken, she’d used some kind of concealer to cover over a smattering of freckles that resided there.

Such a delicious face, he could stare at her for hours.

Then there was the jacked body he’d glimpsed beneath her regulation suits. Sure, she tried to hide her cut, defined curves, but each time her jacket gaped, he caught a glimpse, and his hands itched to mold over the material that covered that lush musculature. Today’s shirt, a drastic change from her normal button-downs, only served to tickle his imagination further as to what he’d find underneath her layers.

But back to dating…

“What if,” he began, stroking his smooth chin, because, yeah, he had a hard time growing an actual beard. “we meet up somewhere. Like, not a date, but as a couple of buddies sharing a meal?”

He would get under her skin. He just needed time.

Sloane’s frown lines deepened, and his fingers itched to move across her face to help ease her worries.

“I don’t see any need for that, Perkins,” she clipped. “It’s not as if we’re friends or anything. I rarely socialize with work-related people.”

Of course she didn’t, because Agent Vessers was all “by the book”. But Perk could tell he was making inroads with Sloane . “Well then, it’s a good thing we’ve just completed our job together, isn’t it?” he continued innocently. “Because now, the barrier of which you speak, no longer exists. What if…” he tipped his head to maximize his charm-advantage, “…you were to tell me where you stop for lunch every day, and I happen to pop in?” He threw her another dimple-shot, hoping to sweeten the pot.

“You’re hard to discourage, aren’t you, Perkins,” Sloane huffed.

“I want to get to know you, Sloane. Is that so difficult to fathom?”

“Kind of,” she mumbled, but he heard her loud and clear.

It was time to probe into what was making her so reluctant. “You have friends, right?”

“Of course I do,” she answered easily.

That was good. Her quick response meant it was true.

“Okay,” he reasoned. “What if we make a time and place to meet up, but instead of just the two of us, you also invite a friend.”

“Why?” Sloane asked, not giving an inch.

That was a no-brainer. “So you feel safe.”

Sloane snorted. “You think I have a problem feeling safe with you?”

Perk knew he needed to tread lightly. Agent Vessers would have no problem with self-confidence in any situation. Of that he was sure. But Sloane…? Her civilian identity was a different thing altogether. He had a feeling that somewhere along the line, the more vulnerable Sloane had received a blow or blows to her feminine self-esteem that colored her take on everything.

“Okay. How about this?” Perk chose to roll with her concerns. “You said you’d agree to spar with me, right?”

“Yeah,” she returned somewhat suspiciously.

“Good. Several times a week we head out to Wiley’s barn.” Perk named the town south of here. “He has a big gym, and we use it to keep our skills sharp. What if I gave you a call the next time we’re headed there, and you can join us?”

“Do you have a day in mind?” she asked, her curiosity clearly winning out over her thorniness. Her competitive spirit wouldn’t allow her to miss an easy opportunity to show him up.

Perk shook his head, sad that he couldn’t answer in the affirmative. “Sorry,” he apologized. “We never know we’re going until at least the day before. Sometimes our schedules are slammed at work, so we have to wait until a majority of us find a lull, which is always more or less spur of the moment.”

Sloane tipped her head, understandingly. “That works for me as well, since I’m in the same boat. I never know when I’ll get called out, so…will you keep me in the loop?”

“I will,” he assured her. “You’ll be added to the list.”

“What list?” she asked curiously.

Perk grinned broadly. “It’s a text chain for our sessions. We call it ‘Prepare to Die’,” he revealed with a chuckle. “We, uh, all have pretty competitive spirits.”

The first real smile he’d ever seen from Sloane appeared on her lips. “Cute. You guys don’t mess around.”

Damn. The buttoned-up agent had just gone from stunning to…fucking gorgeous.

And just like that, the first crack appeared in his confidence.

Doubt seeped in.

Was Sloane way out of his league?

Not for a romp, of course, if that’s what he wanted. Sexually, Perk could more than hold his own. No date of his ever went home unsatisfied. But with Sloane he already knew he dreamed of…more, and he was suddenly afraid of not meeting her expectations. Perk was certain—and had been since the minute he’d set eyes on the stony agent—that she was special; the whole package. But him? He was often looked at as a boy-toy due to his perpetually youthful countenance. And in his experience, most people were not willing to dig beyond that. Would Sloane? Because exploring the new and unexplained feelings toward her that were bubbling up in his chest was something he desperately wanted to do, and she just had to give him a chance.

The more he was around her, the more he craved her company.

He had a feeling convincing Sloane to dig deeper, however, was going to be an uphill battle. So for now he’d continue to keep it light, as much as it killed him.

He refocused on their sparring discussion.

“Yeah. We’re pretty competitive,” he told her. “But we have a lot of fun, too.”

“Who’s your biggest adversary on the team?” she asked, beginning to walk again, wending her way toward a food truck that offered a Mexican fare. That was more than fine with Perk. It was actually his first choice of food, as well.

“Prez,” he answered without hesitation. “For sure. I’m pretty much on top of the rest of the guys, but Prez is a beast, and I’m the only one who can best him. Not always, but a lot of the time.” Perk wasn’t bragging. Even though Prez had five inches and forty pounds on him, Perk was damned fast on his feet, and he probably took Prez down at least forty-percent of the time.

“Then I’d love to get in on that action,” Sloane told him. “I bet I can give Prez a run for his money.”

“Which means you’re fairly confident you’ll kick my ass?” Perk teased.

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” she countered with a smirk.

Well shit. Perk was now, certifiably a goner.

The more human Sloane became, the more his interest ramped up.

Before he did something stupid and declared his everlasting devotion to her, he needed to get onto a safe topic.

“So…Mexican?” he questioned, looking ahead to the short line that had formed at the truck.

“Yup. Nothing like a good burrito,” she told him. “Unless it’s accompanied by a margherita.” She affected a cute as hell pout.

Who the hell would have figured Sloane could pout?

She continued. “I’m thinking that wish is off the table though, since it’s all about the food trucks today.”

“Don’t count on it,” Perk was happy to let her know. “We actually hired a bartender who’s set up inside Anna’s house.” He rubbed his hands together so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her again. “Which means you can have both. Which first, though? Food or drink?”

“I’m not generally a lightweight,” Sloane told him, “but I haven’t eaten all day, so I think food is a good place to start.”

“Agreed.” Perk dared take her elbow again, but this time she shook him off. He shifted a step away, hiding his hurt while she snapped at him.

“You have to stop touching me,” she snarled, but instead of anger, Perk saw uncertainty bleeding from her eyes.

“I do?” He wanted her to explain, but he also wanted to comply with her wishes. At least for now. Certainly not in the long run unless she convinced him she was serious. Which it didn’t seem like she was. Perk could tell. She simply didn’t look…committed to her words.

And he freaking loved touching Sloane. His whole body felt jazzed from the smallest of contact. Screw it. He couldn’t hold back. “Why?” he finally prodded again.

“Because…” She looked at his hand where it still remained semi-raised. For the first time since Perk had met her, she seemed less than confident. She squared her shoulders, stopped in her tracks, and turned to look at him. “Because I feel something when you touch me, and I don’t like it,” she delivered, deadpan.

It took everything Perk had in him not to bust out a huge smile and do a victory dance. But her less than happy expression told him to tread softly.

“Well, I feel something, too,” he told her honestly, with as little gloating in his tone as he could manage. “But I actually think it’s pretty nice.”

Nice was an understatement. What he was feeling was epic. But he’d continue meandering his way—as carefully as possible—through the prickly maze she’d erected.

“You do?” she asked, a look of skepticism on her suddenly flushed face. “How is that possible? I’m me, and you’re so…good looking, I bet you have women throwing themselves at you constantly, and have your pick of the lot.”

And here it was again. The bane of his twenty-eight-year-old, baby-wrapper existence.

“Sloane,” he finally managed. “I don’t mean to be contrary, but seriously? There’s more to me than a pretty face.”

Honesty had worked for him so far, so he went for broke. “In answer to that statement, do I lack for female attention? No. Have I had my share of hook-ups in the past? Yes. But in the last couple years, I’ve found that the luster has worn off serial dating, or serial sleeping around, if you want to call it that. I’m tired of being used for my physical attributes, and…” He knew he was showing his hand too soon, but couldn’t help himself. “…you strike me as a woman who won’t diminish me like that. If I’m wrong, tell me. But if you agree…” He let that hang.

“Fuck, Perk. I’d never treat you like a…thing. But…shit.” She put a hand to the crown of her head and subconsciously tousled her hair. “I don’t want to like you, yet here you are making it extremely tough.”

“I am?” He felt gobsmacked at her words. “I mean, why don’t you want to like me?” he questioned.

“Because what I said before is true. I’m off dating. I’m off men. Period. It’s never…gone well for me in the past. I’m over it, and being near you…complicates things.”

Now was not the time to back down.

“You’re conflicted where I’m concerned?” he prodded.

After a long pause, Sloane sighed long and deep, then gave an affirmative jerk of her chin.

Perk let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “Good. Because that means I’m not giving up. To play it safe and let you kick me to the curb if you really want to, we’ll start out as friends. You said you have those, right?”

“I do,” she agreed, but didn’t look happy about where this was headed.

“Fine then,” he put out. “I promise you I won’t escalate past friendship-level unless you give me the green light.”

“You’ll never get that green light, Perk,” she returned almost sadly. “I’m afraid you’ll be wasting your time.”

“You let me worry about that,” he responded easily, then he clapped her on the back like he would with any of the guys. “See there? We can do this.”

If she wanted to be a chum until he changed her mind, Perk would treat her like one.

“So, what kind of burrito are we talking?”