Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Every time Diana drove along the short boulevard leading to the town square in Sutton’s Creek, she thought about how perfect it was.
How charming. The divided road wasn’t long, maybe a half mile, but it passed beneath old oaks before spilling into a quaint downtown.
The wrought iron streetlamps lining the boulevard were undecorated at the moment, but they’d sported miniature flags during the summer.
She could just imagine what kind of Christmas decorations the town would drape itself with. Wreaths, twinkling lights, maybe some carolers in the town square. She’d heard there would be hayrides and a pumpkin patch at a local farm in October.
Really, it was small town Hallmark movie perfection. And maybe real life wasn’t that perfect, but a girl could wish for it anyway.
The Sutton’s Creek Independence Day Fest had certainly been a delight. She’d even approached the One Shot Tactical men and their ladies to say hello. They’d been parked on chairs in front of the Salty Dawg Tavern. The women had been friendly, but the men had darted suspicious looks her way.
Nothing she wasn’t accustomed to. Working in a typically male-dominated profession, she’d had time to get used to hostility from the men she worked with. Not all of them, but enough. Not that the One Shot men were openly hostile, but their dislike was clear.
At least they didn’t stare at her. Leer like she was an object of lust and not a professional colleague.
If she had a dime for every room she’d entered in the course of her job where men thought they had the right to ogle her, smirk, say things about her body and then claim they were only joking… well, it’d be a lot of money.
Her hands tightened on the wheel. She didn’t invite the attention. She rarely wore makeup, and definitely not on the job. Her hair was usually in a severe bun or a ponytail. Her suits were tailored, but modest. She wasn’t trying not to be a woman. She was trying to be taken seriously.
Men didn’t have that problem. If you were born with a dick, you were automatically considered more competent at some things.
Like being an FBI agent.
She wrinkled her nose. She’d been dealing with it for years. And maybe she wasn’t as good as some of them, maybe she never would be, but she wasn’t giving up. She had a purpose, and she wouldn’t be deterred.
She’d finished her master’s degree after Viktor’s assault, barely, but she’d dropped out of the PhD program.
When she’d informed her parents she was joining the FBI instead of finishing her doctorate or going to work for a senator or an ambassador, her mother had pressed the strand of pearls around her neck with a gasp of dismay.
“Why on earth would you want to do that, darling? You’re an Adler.”
“Justice,” she’d said.
Justice. That elusive, desirable, addictive thing that got her out of bed every day and made her keep going even when she thought quitting would be easier.
It wasn’t just about Viktor, though. She wanted justice for everyone harmed by sexual assault—by any assault against their humanity—and though she was only one person and couldn’t help everyone, she wouldn’t quit trying.
One day, she would succeed in throwing him into prison for the rest of his miserable days.
She was getting closer to finding whoever was trafficking weapons for Viktor in Huntsville.
She’d missed a huge opportunity when Jackson O’Malley came to town to sell Stinger missiles and the deal went down prematurely, but there would be other chances to find the people stockpiling weapons.
And then, hopefully, stop them before they could sabotage the Athena Project.
Diana pulled into the parking lot behind the Sutton Building, staring at the three-story building with its age-worn brick. Then she dragged in a soothing breath.
She was going to do this. She was going to look at the apartment for rent, though she considered it a formality, and she was moving to Sutton’s Creek. It was a peaceful place, and she craved peace in her life.
Colonel Alex Bishop—sexy, infuriating, intense bastard that he was—would not be happy about it. Like she cared. It was her life. She might not ever belong to a tight-knit group like his team and their women, but she wasn’t here for them. She was here for her.
He’s going to think you did it to keep an eye on them.
Diana stepped onto the pavement and shouldered her purse.
Of course being closer to the range and the men who ran it was a bonus for her investigation into Viktor’s shady deals.
But she’d have made this move even without their presence.
Her lease to the apartment near Toyota Field was up, and she was tired of the traffic and hustle.
She wanted quiet. That elusive peace. Small town comfort.
Maybe she should find another small town to seek it in, but Sutton’s Creek was perfect.
Angels Cove, Sutton’s Creek’s sister town across the river, was also quaint and beautiful, but too inconvenient for commuting to work.
There was no bridge close enough, only a sporadic ferry, and she didn’t want to risk it.
Besides, she liked Sutton’s Creek. The shops and charm, the historic buildings, the Southern hospitality.
The only people who were ever cool and distant with her were the men of One Shot Tactical.
She understood why and didn’t blame them, but it was sure to make moving to this town a little more difficult.
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Did she honestly care what Alex Bishop thought? What any of them thought?
Of course not. She had as much right to live here as they did. They weren’t from Alabama either, but they’d made this town their home. She could do the same. There was nothing to stop her.
She selected the number she’d entered into her phone earlier today when she’d called it the first time.
“Hello, Ms. Corbin,” a kindly voice said on the second ring.
“Hi, Dr. Sutton. Is this a bad time? I’m outside, but I can come back later—”
“Not at all. My wife is already upstairs, waiting to show you around. Just go up to the third floor and she’ll meet you there. The back door is open. I’d join you, but I have a patient in a few moments.”
Diana swallowed her apprehension. “I understand. Thank you so much.”
“It’s our pleasure. I hope you like what you see. If it’s not for you, I understand.”
“Thank you—but I’m sure it’s perfect.”
He chuckled. “My wife certainly thinks so. She’s the one who knew how she wanted things done. Ask her about the kitchen cabinets. She’ll talk your ear off if you do.”
Diana laughed. “Sounds delightful.”
His voice was warm. “Consider yourself warned. If you need to escape, don’t compliment those cabinets. And definitely don’t ask her about the floors. You’ll be stuck for an hour.”
“I’m sure I’ll enjoy every moment,” she said, and meant it.
She made her way up two flights of stairs, admiring the wooden banisters polished with time, the exposed brick walls. The hallways were wide. There were two apartments on each floor, so only four total since the bottom floor was the doctors’ office.
Blaze Connolly and Dr. Emma Grace Sutton lived on the second floor. Someone else had moved into the other second floor apartment recently.
On the third floor, Daphne Bryant—previously known as Josephine O’Malley, the mafia king’s daughter—had moved out to live with Kane Fox on the property adjoining One Shot Tactical. Daphne’s apartment was available while the other had also recently been rented.
The door was open. Mrs. Sutton was perched on the wide windowsill, scrolling her phone, and Diana was in love.
Not with Mrs. Sutton. With the tall ceilings and original features.
“Oh, hello,” Mrs. Sutton said, getting to her feet and coming over to shake Diana’s hand. “I’m Ellen.”
She was the kind of petite that always made Diana feel like a giant at five-nine.
She wore a tailored cotton shirt dress and a hair band to hold back her blond hair, and she was so very pretty.
Diana guessed her to be in her late fifties or early sixties, considering Emma’s age, but she didn’t look it.
“Diana Corbin.” The name flowed smoothly from her tongue. It had been a little difficult at first to stop saying Adler, but she’d been using her mother’s maiden name for years now. Her parents had been baffled at first. But like most things that didn’t directly affect them, they soon got over it.
She’d wanted to succeed at the Bureau on her own merits, not those of her name.
When she’d joined, Don Lewis, her dad’s best friend from college, wasn’t yet the director.
But he was highly placed in the organization even then, and she hadn’t wanted special favors.
He knew she’d joined, because how could he not, but she’d stressed her feelings when they spoke about it.
He’d nodded and said, “You’ll do a fine job, Diana. I have faith in you.”
Until Alex Bishop had her reassigned to Kentucky, she’d never once asked for a favor. And then, knowing that Viktor Dashevsky had his eye on Huntsville—but not why—she’d broken her own rule and went straight to the top in her quest to return.
“You’re very pretty,” Ellen said, and Diana blinked.
“Um, thank you.”
Ellen laughed. “I’m so sorry. I realize that probably sounds like I’m buttering you up to rent the apartment, but I don’t say things I don’t mean. Are you new to the area?”
“No,” Diana said truthfully. “I work for the FBI on Redstone Arsenal. I want to move somewhere quieter than where I currently live. I’ve spent some time in Sutton’s Creek and I like the town.”
“It’s a very good place to live,” Ellen said.
“Historic, quaint, but not too far from Huntsville for commuters.” She spread her arms and turned to encompass the large space.
“This is a historic building. You would be facing the square here and you’d be able to walk to restaurants and shops.
We have one grocery store, the Piggly Wiggly, but you can get to bigger ones if you want to drive a bit farther.
We also have a thriving library, and a shooting range if you like that sort of thing.
I’d tell you the men there also teach self-defense, but I imagine the FBI does as well.
Though if I’m honest, I think most of the women in this town go to One Shot Tactical for the view. ”
Diana could well imagine. Those were six of the prettiest men she’d ever met. Even if they did glower at her like she was the enemy.
Which she supposed she deserved after the way she’d bulldozed her way into their mission.
Couldn’t be helped though. She had a mission of her own, and she wasn’t letting a little thing like a grumpy Army colonel derail her.
In another world, he’d be the kind of man she was attracted to.
Tall, muscled, with crinkles at the corners of his eyes and a bit of gray starting to pepper his dark hair.
He was rugged, handsome, and he oozed competence.
All the One Shot men did, but Alex most of all. There were depths behind those pewter gray eyes she could only guess at. If she were honest with herself, he made her weak at the knees every time she was in his presence. Which made her work even harder to pretend she was indifferent to him.
She’d seen his military record. The real one. The things in there—my God, the man was formidable. A hero who wouldn’t hesitate to give his life to keep his country safe.
Guilt pricked her. She wanted to succeed on her own merits the way he had. If she didn’t have her connections to fall back on, would she be a failure? That’s what kept her up at night sometimes, wondering if she’d made the right choices, if she had what it took to stop Viktor.
“We kept the original moldings in here,” Ellen was saying as she strode through the apartment.
Diana focused on the tour, dutifully asked about the cabinets and floors, mostly because she liked Ellen’s enthusiasm for the details. She was a warm and effusive woman. She seemed like the kind of mother who would hug often and say how much she loved you.
Diana didn’t know what that was like, but she envied Emma for it.
“This way to the bedrooms,” Ellen said, waving her along.
They toured two bedrooms and two bathrooms before returning to the living room with the wide-open space and the beautiful kitchen at one end.
“I’ll take it,” Diana said.
Ellen smiled. “That’s wonderful, Diana. May I call you Diana?”
“Please. Yes. I’d like that.”
“Well, then, I’ll have the realtor send you the contract and the details, and you can move in whenever you like. Do you have a moment to come downstairs and meet my husband and daughter?”
Diana’s pulse skittered. Emma would waste no time telling Blaze, and that meant Alex would know before she’d walked back to her car.
And she cared why?
She straightened her spine. Screw Alex Bishop and his way of looking at her like he wanted to throw her out whatever door they were closest to.
He practically burned with dislike when they were anywhere near each other.
It sparked from him with every look, every word.
She imagined touching him, imagined that spark turning into a flame and engulfing her.
But, for her, it was flame of a different kind. The kind she felt between her legs and in the points of her nipples.
It was all the more shocking because he was an alpha male, commanding and confident, while she preferred beta males. They were biddable, lacked intensity, and they didn’t make her feel like she had no control.
Alex, on the other hand, made her want to surrender.
Her control, her body, her fears. All of it.
Never.
“Yes, I’d love to meet them,” she said. “That would be lovely.”