Naughty Nick (Elite Forces HEAT #3)

Chapter 1

CARA

Ican do hard things, I reminded myself as I pulled into the crowded parking lot of the Dirty Diamond Dogs Bar and Grill.

Case in point: thirty-nine days. That’s how long I had blocked, ignored, and nearly forgotten about my ex.

Sure, Riley had broken up with me five months ago, and yes, it had taken me a while to come to terms with the reality of it, partly because he had a habit of sliding into my DMs every time I was starting to heal.

But now I’d been free of him for thirty-nine days.

I could muster the energy for one night, a few short hours, out in the world.

I whipped my little car into a tight spot near the bar’s entrance.

Rock-star parking. That had to be an omen that things were finally going my way.

And what could be better than meeting my besties, Gabi Torrens and Summer Banford, for an eighties’-themed trivia night, the last one of the year at our favorite hangout?

Besides, I needed to celebrate nearing the end of a year that had been hell-bent on breaking me.

In many ways, I guess it had.

I’d nearly canceled this friends’ date five times since agreeing to it on Monday.

Even tonight, when I’d changed my outfit so many times I was now running ten minutes late, I’d longed to use that as an excuse for a last-minute flake-out.

But if I continued hibernating, Summer would probably hire a bunch of big, hunky men to bodily remove me from my small apartment.

Or worse, she would pay them to join me in my small apartment.

I took a deep breath, then glanced into the rearview mirror to check my make-up.

I caught a glimpse of Gabi crossing the parking lot.

She was still dressed in her work outfit, a navy-blue pencil skirt, designer white blouse, and understated Jimmy Choo pumps.

Her shoulder-length dark hair was tied in a sleek ponytail and her make-up was perfect.

Her job at the mid-sized law firm might not be her dream job, but she certainly looked the part of the chic, competent solicitor.

She hated discussing her work after hours, so when I pasted on a smile and stepped out of my car to greet her, I didn’t ask for details about why she, too, was late.

“You look great,” she said as we hugged. “Which outfit number is this?”

My best friends knew me too well. “I lost count. Does it work? It’s probably too casual. Maybe I should have worn Christmas colors.” I winced. “Wait, Summer said eighties’ outfits to go with the theme.”

“Cara, slow down. Take a breath. This is the Triple D. Our home away from home. And Summer won’t care that you forgot and I didn’t have time to go home to change.”

“Wanna bet?” I linked my arm in Gabi’s and we headed for the entrance. “Summer always cares.”

Inside the dimly lit and already crowded hot spot, we saw the third member of our trio at the bar, holding court with a young, super-cute bartender.

Summer wore her normally straight blonde bob in a mass of big-haired curls with a mesh hairband tied over it in a bow on top of her head.

Her shirt was a low-cut, black-lace crop top with a matching mini-skirt.

She wore black combat boots, and the piece de resistance—which seemed to be captivating the young bartender—was the thick wooden cross on a black cord that was nestled in her cleavage.

When we reached Summer, all three of us hugged.

“Look at you, out in the big world!” Summer said. “It makes me so happy, I’m going to forgive you both for your outfits. Did you not understand the assignment?”

“How could we live up to this?” Gabi asked. “Late-eighties’ Madonna, right?”

“Early-eighties’ Madonna,” Summer and I said at the same time.

“Pre-Like a Virgin,” Summer added, and winked at the bartender.

Poor guy looked like he’d swallowed his tongue.

“Back to work,” Mason, the establishment owner, barked at his employee.

Mason, who was in his late forties, wore his graying hair ever so slightly longer than a military buzz cut and acted as a cross between drill sergeant and surrogate dad for my friends and me.

When his gaze landed on mine, he grinned and went to the end of the bar so he could come around it.

He pulled me into a bear hug. “It’s about time you got back here, young lady. ”

“It’s about time you honored the decade of the world’s best pop music,” I told him.

He scowled at me, then winked at Summer, and I knew this night had been planned with me in mind.

“You guys,” I said quietly. I blinked back tears.

“Enough of that,” Mason commanded. “Lyle, get these ladies drinks. First round is on the house.”

A few minutes later, Lyle delivered our drinks. Mine was a margarita, so either Mason or Summer had tipped him off about my favorite. We each picked up our glasses and Gabi lifted hers in the air.

“A toast,” she said.

“To three things,” Summer added.

“What three things?” I asked.

Summer indicated that we should each take a sip, which we did.

“Okay,” Summer said, “first thing on our list was finally getting you out of that apartment for something other than teaching classes or running errands. I mean, I love you, but if I had to visit you one more time in that tiny two-bedroom place with your weird roommate—”

“I like her. She’s nice.”

“With your weird but nice roommate, and her creepy cat—”

“I like him, too. He just enjoys jump-scaring humans.”

Summer sighed. “Fine, but I needed to see you somewhere else, so thank you for coming here tonight.”

“The second thing on our list is getting you drunk,” Gabi continued. “What kind of friends would we be if we put you on a plane tomorrow without a hangover?”

I shook my head. “I’m not getting on a plane. I’m driving to my parents’ house.”

“Driving across the country?” Summer said loudly.

Mason glanced in our direction and gave me his disapproving dad look.

“I have my reasons,” I said.

Not the least of them was I didn’t want to spend days alone with my parents before my brother came home.

That was way too much time without him as a buffer when Mom and Dad silently—and yet distinctly—expressed their abject disappointment with my life choices.

They tried to understand why I’d moved to the West Coast and how, exactly I paid my bills.

But Mom was an IT manager and Dad was an accountant, and hawking sculptures made of found materials had never made sense to them.

At least this year I would make the concession that might finally allow them to worry less about my future prospects and lack of a retirement fund.

“Fine, drinks but no getting drunk,” Gabi conceded.

“The third...” Summer glanced at Gabi, whose face showed no emotion, then she lowered her voice and leaned close to me, “and arguably the most important thing on our list tonight, is getting you laid.”

“No. That is not an option.” I glanced at Gabi. “Tell me you agree with me.”

She shrugged. “Summer has had some objectively terrible ideas over the years, but this one isn’t half bad.”

“No,” I repeated, but Summer was smiling and Gabi was unhelpfully shrugging again.

I could do hard things. Like drag my sorry ass out to a bar.

See my ever-more-disappointed parents over Christmas.

Trade in my dreams of becoming a real artist for a predictable, mind-numbing, bill-paying job.

But I could not consider hooking up with a rando five months after the end of a seven-year relationship, and only thirty-nine days after giving up on my ex for good.