2. Complicated Beauty
2 COMPLICATED BEAUTY
Lanie
Never again. Henley and Jade could bitch and moan all they wanted, but this was the very last time they set me up on a blind date. Or any date for that matter. Each one was worse than the last, almost as if they were trying to ambush my love life. Hell, knowing them, they probably were.
We met at Le Haut, a new French restaurant just outside of town. The name translated meant The Top , which tracked considering the place was built on the summit of one of the smaller mountains surrounding Huntington. Unfortunately, I was seconds away from shoving my date over the edge of the nearest cliff.
Sitting across from Bill, Bob, Bart, or whatever-the-hell the guy’s name was, was akin to the worst kind of torture imaginable. Since the moment we arrived, he hadn’t stopped talking about himself, all the while staring at my boobs. He was the youngest account executive…blah, blah, blah. Honestly, I’d tuned him out after he ordered a bottle of their “finest cabernet sauvignon,” without consulting me. I hated red wine, despised it actually. Not only did it leave a ba d taste in my mouth—much like my date was doing—it gave me a killer headache the next morning.
Why I’d dressed to the hilt trying to impress this schmuck was beyond me. He may have been outwardly attractive; however, his good looks didn’t make up for the fact Billy-Bob was boring as fuck and rude as hell.
“I asked for the dressing on the side,” he grumbled when the waitress set our salads in front of us. “Christ, can’t you get anything right?”
Under normal circumstances, I would’ve already called him out on his less-than-stellar behavior, except he was the seventh man my friends had deemed worthy of my time. Maybe his nerves had short-circuited the place deep inside which made him a decent human being? With that thought in mind, I hunkered down and tried to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Uh, Bill?”
“Mark.” He narrowed his gaze on me.
Whoops.
“Sorry. Mark, I’m sure they can make you a new one. Right?” I smiled at our poor waitress, Polly, who was on the verge of bursting into tears.
“O-of course,” she stuttered, reaching for the plate. Her hands shook so hard she nearly upended the whole thing in his lap, which—in my opinion—was exactly where it belonged.
“See? No harm, no foul,” I assured him as I laid the black cloth napkin across my lap and picked up my fork.
“Aren’t you going to wait for me?”
My stomach grumbled loudly, making the decision even easier. If Mark wanted to be an ass, so could I.
“Nope.” I stabbed a hunk of lettuce then shoved it in my mouth .
“Unbelievable.” Mark shook his head, muttering under his breath.
Aaand…I was done.
“Yeah, you really are.”
“Excuse me?”
“Lord knows I’ve been trying to.” I sat the fork down, leaned my elbows on the table, and folded my hands together. “I think it’s safe to say we should cut our evening short.”
“We’ve only been here twenty minutes,” he responded incredulously.
“Trust me, I’m aware. It’s twenty minutes of my life I’ll never be able to get back.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Instead of answering, I asked, “What do I do for a living, Mark?”
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, but otherwise didn’t utter a single syllable.
“Exactly my point. Had you bothered to ask, you’d have found out I’m an FBI agent.”
“Wow. Beautiful and you carry a gun.” He grinned, flashing perfectly straight, obviously bleached teeth. He’d spent a fortune on his smile when he should’ve dumped money into buying a new personality.
I had to hand it to the guy though, he was smooth. Too bad his true colors had already shined brighter than the sun. I wasn’t desperate enough for a free meal to overlook bad manners. Surely, at twenty-seven years old, I could do better than the losers my friends had paraded in front of me.
God, I wish Noah were here.
Regardless of the number of dates I went on, my mind inevitably drifted to him at some point. He was the reason I judged each and every man who took me out so harshly and he was also the reason why the first date never led to a second. It didn’t matter that he’d crushed my soul. No one could hold a candle to Noah Anderson.
“Thanks for the compliment, but it’s too late to salvage the night.”
Lifting my purse from the back of my chair, I moved to stand when he stopped me with a sweaty palm to my forearm.
“I'll go. You stay and enjoy your meal.”
He stood and without a backward glance, strolled out the front door of the upscale restaurant, leaving me to pay the bill.
Motherfucker.
Yup. I was so done with men.
“You’re gonna knock the socks right off his feet, Jade,” Henley sniffled.
“She’s right.” I approached the pair where they stood in front of the full-length mirror. “Koen’s not gonna know what hit him.”
Technically, Koen and Jade were married six months ago. They’d done it in secret, without their friends and family in attendance for support; a wrong which they were setting to rights in a few hours.
The three of us, along with Koen’s mom and sister, were at Jade’s house getting dressed for the wedding, while the boys opted to use one of the rooms at the venue.
Jade shook her hands out at her side. “Why am I so nervous?”
“There’s no reason to be.” I placed my hands on her shoulders from behind and gave her a gentle squeeze. “ You’ve done this already. Think of the ceremony as a gift from you and Koen to the rest of us.”
“Wow. Beautifully said,” she whispered.
“Seriously, Lanie?” Henley blubbered. “I’m having a hard enough time keeping the tears at bay without you diving deep in the feels.”
“Girl, you cried yesterday when you couldn’t reach your shoes to tie them.”
She glared in my direction. “You try growing a tiny human.”
She and Keaton were expecting their first child in about six weeks. He’d proposed to her before they found out about their little bundle of joy, then they—meaning Henley—decided to postpone their nuptials until the following winter. She said she wanted to give Keaton a fairy-tale Christmas wedding, which included having their son or daughter be a part of the ceremony. I suspected it had more to do with not wanting a pregnant belly in her wedding photos, but I kept my mouth sealed shut.
“No thanks. I’d much prefer to be the favorite aunt who gets to spoil them rotten, then hand them back to their owners for upkeep.”
“Jesus, Lanie,” Jade chuckled. “You make it sound like a transaction at a car repair shop.”
I shrugged. It’s not like I had anything against kids, per se, I just wasn’t sure I wanted them.
“I bet a certain someone would be able to change your mind about motherhood,” she singsonged.
Ignoring my best friend, I spun on my heel, busying myself by gathering our purses and anything else we’d need to take with us when it was time to leave. She meant well, they both did, but it was hard enough to keep my six-foot, blue-eyed obsession from penetrating my every waking thought without them bringing him up. Hell, who was I kidding? He played a starring role in most of my dreams too.
“What are you afraid of?”
Henley’s soft voice startled me. I hadn’t expected either one of them to follow me across the room. Yet, when I turned around they were right there, sheer determination written on their perfectly made-up faces.
“Can we do this another day? Or I don’t know…maybe never?”
“No,” they spoke together.
“You’re the ones who encouraged me to date other men.” I pointed between them. “Christ, you even set me up.”
“No more deflecting, Lanie. The maid of honor handbook states you’re supposed to give me anything I want on my wedding day, and I want answers.”
For too long, I’d felt trapped somewhere between the truth and the wall of lies I’d made up to protect my heart. These two women—the sisters of my heart—were offering me an escape. Lowering my chin to my chest, I blew out a long breath and gave them what they wanted.
“I’m not scared. I’m petrified.”
“Oh, honey.” Henley wrapped her hand around mine. “No shit.”
My head snapped up to see both of them grinning like fools. It was not at all what I expected.
The question is”—Jade captured my other hand—“what are you going to do about it?”
“Nothing?” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt a sharp nip on the back of my arm. “Ouch, Henley. You really need to stop pinching people. It’s rude.”
“Got your attention, didn’t I? ”
“There are other ways which don’t involve leaving bruises.”
“True, but mine’s pretty effective. Now stop stalling.”
They still had a firm grasp of my hands, so even though the desire to run fast and far bowled me over like a freight train, I didn’t go anywhere.
A year ago, my answer would have been simple. I’d been utterly consumed by Noah Anderson. He was stoic, almost emotionless at times, but I knew differently. Behind those piercing sapphire eyes lay a great deal of passion for his job and compassion for the people he swore an oath to protect. Every move he made was calculated and well thought out, which was why it hurt so badly when he called our kiss a mistake. I’d finally busted through his hard exterior shell, only to have him shut us down before we had a chance to begin.
“Can you promise us something?” Jade spoke softly. Reluctantly, I nodded. “No more running from Noah. Face your feelings head-on.”
“You two are the ones who kept setting me up on those horrible blind dates,” I huffed.
“Exactly,” she declared. “They were horrible for a reason.”
“You needed the time to lick your wounds,” Henley offered. “But it’s gone on long enough. That man has twisted himself inside out the past few months trying to gain your attention, and while it’s been incredibly satisfying to watch him squirm, you’ve both been miserable.”
Could I do it? Could I open myself back up, knowing there was a possibility of more pain and disappointment if things didn’t work out? I guess I’d never know unless I tried .
Noah
The wedding ceremony took place in the Rose Garden at Ritter Park, immediately followed by the reception, which was held in a nearby hall they used for special events known as The Cottage. It was rustic, yet elegant. On any other day I would have marveled at the simplistic beauty of the hand-laid stone structure, but there was another, much more complicated beauty who’d stolen my breath and my sanity.
Alaina “Lanie” Biggs.
My plan to wear her down through persistence and perseverance went flying out the damn window the second I saw her walking down the makeshift aisle. She wore an ankle-length, V-neck silver dress which dipped low in the front, exposing more than a hint of cleavage, and hugged every single luscious curve I wanted to grip with my hands when I finally made her mine.
It was a special brand of torture, one I deserved for being a dumbass, but I was done fucking around. There was nowhere for her to hide from me here; no place to run.
Once the DJ began playing, the dance floor filled with bodies moving to the music, and I saw the perfect opportunity. She was standing off to the side of the room, oblivious to my approach. I felt the shiver travel across her exposed skin when I ran my finger lightly down the side of her bare arm.
“Can I have this dance?” I spoke close to her ear.
She turned slowly, her hazel eyes never fully meeting mine as she held out her hand. “Sure.”
I wrapped my hand around one of hers, bringing them to rest on my chest between us while my arm circled her waist, pulling her close. Time ceased to exist when it was just the two of us swaying back and forth to the beat. I savored the feeling of her in my arms; the rightness of it all. This is where she was meant to be.
It took three songs for me to strike up the courage to explain what happened all those months ago, but before I had a chance to open my mouth, Waverly’s raised voice drew our attention to the entrance of the hall.
“I told you an hour.”
Standing in front of her were Hendricks and Harty, the DEA agents who were in charge of the operation where Lanie went undercover. They ignored her outburst and searched the room until their gaze landed on the woman in my arms. I instinctively tightened my hold.
Fuck that and fuck them.
No way would I allow them to use her again the way they had six months ago. I swear the operation took ten years off my life with the amount of worrying I did about her safety.
Koen stepped in front of our RAC in a protective maneuver. “What the hell is going on? You can’t just barge in here. This is my wedding for fuck’s sake.”
Hendricks threw up his hands low in front of him. “Stand down, Agent Banks. We need to talk to Lanie. The timing couldn’t be helped.”
Hearing her name, Lanie wiggled out of my arms and stormed across the space. I was right behind her, a deep growl climbing up my throat when she nudged Koen out of the way.
With hands on her hips, she barely contained the fury vibrating through her body when she barked one single word. “What?”
“Lanie.” Agent Harty stepped around her partner. The sympathy in her tone had the hair on the back of my neck standing on end. “Brandon Little was found dead in his cell yesterday morning. And we intercepted communication regarding a hit the Bolotov Bratva has put out on you.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I raged.
By this point, our entire team, plus Henley and Jade were at our side.
“We want to put you in protective custody. Just for a little while,” Hendricks admitted quickly.
“No way.” Lanie shook her head. “I’m a federal agent. I can protect myself.”
“Are you willing to bet your friends’ lives on that notion?” Harty added.
This bitch was pissing me off. Who the hell did she think she was dealing with? Yes, the Russians were known to go after those closest to their target in order to draw them out, but we were the goddamn FBI, not a bunch of civilians. We could protect our own.
“I’ll disappear. Go somewhere no one would ever dream of looking for me,” Lanie conceded.
A million and one scenarios ran through my mind, each with the same conclusion.
Not the fuck without me!
Spinning her around to face me, I gripped her upper arms. “I’m going with you.”
“You sure about that, friend?”
I dipped my chin, staring deep into her challenge-filled eyes. “Positive.”
“If you insist.”
“I do.”
“Then we’ve got a hefty drive ahead of us.”
She skirted around me and straight into the waiting arms of her two best friends.
“I don’t like this,” Keaton grumbled.
“Neither do I.” Koen crossed his arms over his chest .
“You all need to figure out a way to remove the target from her back. She and I won’t come back until the threat is eliminated.”
“I’ll talk to my contacts at Homeland,” Duncan offered, speaking for the first time since the DEA agents interrupted our evening. “Plus, we’ve got Nelson. He’s the best damn hacker the government employs.”
“Any other cases we’ve been investigating don’t exist anymore,” Waverly chimed in. “Lanie is priority number one.”
We all nodded in agreement.
“As soon as Huntington is in your rearview mirror, get a burner,” she continued. “I’ll speak with Lanie before you leave, but as your RAC, I’ll be the only one who’ll know your exact location. It’s safer this way. I want daily check-ins at four o’clock sharp, Mountain Time, not a minute after. You get me?”
Waverly Mitchell was a force to be reckoned with on a good day. You put one of her agents in danger and she became an F-5 tornado. And we were her agents, no question about it. She’d fight beside us and for us like a mama bear protecting her cubs.
“Loud and clear.”
We quickly said our goodbyes, leaving the reception within fifteen minutes of finding out the Russians were after Lanie. I had zero clue where we were headed and her amused, “You’ll see,” when I asked did not invoke warm and fuzzy feelings.
My place was situated on the opposite side of town, which was why we chose to go there first. Strangely enough, Lanie had only been there twice in all the years I’d known her, and both times had been before the renovations were completed .
The drive was notably quiet. She was presumably lost in her head, while my eyes scanned our surroundings to ensure we weren’t being followed. Thankfully, there’d only been a brief squabble as to whose vehicle we’d be taking on our little adventure. My Jeep Wrangler 4Xe was built for all-terrain, while her Nissan Rogue was not. Besides the fact she’d left her SUV at Jade’s house. Add in my promise to let her drive for a while, she capitulated rather quickly.
When I bought the small cabin in the woods six years ago, the term fixer-upper had been a huge understatement. The entire thing had to be gutted and practically rebuilt from scratch. I’d made the purchase more for the surrounding acreage since it catered to the sense of peace I craved; something living in the city would never have been able to afford me.
Since then, I’d added a second story, a wraparound porch, and a two-car detached garage on the side. Most of the work I’d done with my own two hands, though I did have to contract the plumbing and electrical work out.
“Holy shit, Noah,” she whistled as we pulled into the circular driveway. “You did all this?”
“Yeah. It took me a while to get it exactly the way I wanted, but I’m happy with the results.”
“You should be.”
We exited my green Jeep and climbed the steps side by side. After holding my thumb to the scanner on the biometric lock, I pushed the door handle down and ushered her quickly inside. Within seconds, a high-pitched beeping filled the air from my security system, which was located to the right of the entryway. Moving to the panel, I keyed in the six-digit code to disarm the alarm.
“Noah,” Lanie gasped when I flicked on the lights. “This is incredible.”
A sense of pride and accomplishment washed over me as I watched her take in my house. Enormous white pine beams crisscrossed the twenty-foot ceilings—all reclaimed wood used from the original cabin. The first level was completely open with a large living room to the left, kitchen on the right, and a staircase straight ahead, which went to the three bedrooms and full bath on the second floor. There was also a hallway tucked behind the stairs, which led to another bathroom and the deck out back.
“Thanks. Feel free to look around while I pack.”
I’d busted my ass rebuilding this house, but until Lanie stepped through the door, it had never felt like a home.
In my room, I hastily threw together a large duffel filled with clothes and toiletries. Not knowing who or what we might come up against, I opened my gun safe, withdrawing my personal Glock, three extra clips, and six boxes of ammo, stuffing them inside the bag.
When I got back downstairs, Lanie was staring intently at the wall of photos, which hung on the far side of my living room. They were mostly candid shots taken of our friends over the years at get-togethers, but there was one person in the center of them all I knew she wouldn’t recognize.
“That’s Juliette.” I moved to stand beside her.
“Your sister?”
“Yeah.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“She is,” I agreed.
Memories flooded my mind. Memories of a time when Juliette and I were close. She drifted away from me after what that motherfucker did to her. Same with my parents, although the reasoning was different and completely my doing. Lengthy phone calls became less frequent until they eventually turned into the occasional text message on holidays or birthdays. The worst part was I’d let her pull away. I didn’t fight to keep my sister because in my own twisted mind, I didn’t deserve her.
“You don’t talk about your family,” she stated the obvious.
“It’s complicated. Besides, I could say the same about you.”
“Touché, Agent Anderson.” She chuckled, breaking the tension which had started to creep in.
“We should get going.”
Placing my hand on the small of her back, I steered us toward the door. Desire bloomed deep inside when I felt the way her body reacted to my touch. The small shudder was enough to give me hope. There was still a conversation to be had, but all was not lost.
Alaina Biggs was my future. I just needed to keep us both alive.