CHAPTER TEN
O’Shea enjoyed hanging out with the team immensely, it seemed like she fit in as well as she’d remembered, which made her potential transfer to Boston exponentially more appealing. Even if Billboard was reluctant to get his head out of his ass and give deets regarding his past… Even if he refused to acknowledge the chemistry between them, relocating would still be a healthy change for her.
Honestly, though? BB didn’t stand a chance of shaking her off his tail. O’Shea was as stubborn as they come, and had already made up her mind that the man’s problems weren’t insurmountable. She just had to lend him the sincere, sympathetic, and therapeutic ear he so badly needed. As a friend, not a professional. And in order to do that properly, she was pretty sure she might have to talk with his shrink, if Billboard would allow it. The doctor would have some much-needed advice on how O’Shea should proceed.
O’Shea also wanted in on the weekend activities with Ethan and the three girls. There shouldn’t be any problem getting that request granted, since she was always an asset, and she had plenty of free time.
As the evening wore down and people finished eating—early, because everyone but O’Shea had to work the following day—she looked to Billboard for his cues to leave, which she knew he was itching to do. After the discussion he’d led regarding the Jakes’ duo, Billboard had mostly sat back and listened to his colleagues, putting in an occasional grunt or chuckle here or there. But O’Shea could tell that even with his group of “besties”, the man held back. It was sad, because she knew that if he let fly with whatever devastating history was stuck in his craw, his group would stick with him no matter what. Maybe they’d even let him know how full of shit he was for holding himself from them for so long.
“You ready to head back to your hotel?” he finally asked, first to call it quits.
She threw down her napkin after wiping her mouth. “Sure. I’m full of good food and great conversation. I should sleep like a baby.”
Perk spoke up with an impish gleam in his eyes. “You could go sleep, but if you want to stay longer, Billboard can hit the road and I’ll be your ride,” he offered.
O’Shea glanced at Billboard. She was certain—because of the way he’d acted so proprietarily before—he’d tell Perk to buzz off. But…crickets. When it looked as if nothing was likely to be forthcoming from the frustrating man, O’Shea pursed her lips and answered Perk with some sass that couldn’t be mistaken.
“I’ll pass, thanks.” She ground her teeth. “I’m looking forward to some awkward silence with Billboard during my trip back to the hotel, with maybe a few terse rebuffs thrown in if I mistakenly try to make any friendly overtures.” She truncated her tongue-in-cheek speech with a pointed elbow to Billboard’s ribs.
He snorted, then he actually laughed.
“Okay. Fine. I get it,” he relented. “I’m not the most engaging of individuals. But I’m trying. A month ago, I would have made excuses for not coming out to join the group at all. Then Perk would have been the one escorting you around.” He sent a “don’t-even-go-there” look toward his youngest teammate, who judiciously kept his mouth shut this time.
Right. Now he stepped up.
“He’s not kidding,” Del concurred. “Before Billboard started seeing his therapist, which is something, by the way, he willingly shared with us, he missed about ninety percent of our get-togethers.”
“Because you guys are assholes,” Billboard put in.
Del ignored him. “Since his head has started getting screwed on straight, he’s made almost all our little parties.”
“Isn’t that sweet.” O’Shea reached over and laid a hand over Billboard’s. “There’s hope for you, yet,” she teased.
He rolled his eyes, but in a humorous, not a dismissive way. “That’s me. A work in progress, at thirty-four years old. Who would have figured.”
“Hey. Better late than never, BB,” Mizzay spoke up, but O’Shea could tell she wasn’t going to let the “pick on Billboard” session continue. She really was a mama-bear, looking around to see if she had to call anybody out. When no one made a peep, she continued. “Now I suggest we finish theeze beers, and get our asses home.” She smiled at Billboard. “I want to see Rory’s face when I tell her sheez goin’ to hang out with you, Sarge, Prez, and the girls on Saturday.”
O’Shea hadn’t met Rory yet, but she could imagine the squeals because… Who wouldn’t want to spend a day with these guys?
Speaking of which, that was her cue.
“Uh, do you think I can join in the fun?” she asked, turning to Billboard. “I can pretend to be the enemy. Your pupils will need to have somebody to try and fool when they hide in the woods, and I’ll make a great hand-to-hand adversary.” Her training in that genre was her strong point, having several combat disciplines under her belt.
Billboard hmphed. “Uh, maybe not. You’re unfamiliar with the Blue Hills. You might get lost.”
O’Shea laughed at his concerns. “Seriously? Fine then. In the remote possibility that I get turned around, you big-bad experts can find me. Or,” she thought smartly, “Ethan and the girls can. It won’t hurt, having them read the signs to find a lost or even purposely hidden individual. It could actually help them track their adversaries.”
“Not a bad idea,” Wiley put in. “One never knows when the stalked could become the stalker. And now I’m jealous I won’t be able to join you.”
“Come on along then,” Sarge offered. “The more the merrier.”
“No can do,” he lamented. “Solina and I are taking a quick trip to Canada to visit her parents this weekend.” He didn’t look exactly disturbed over the fact, but O’Shea could see that he would have been happier playing in the woods with his friends.
“I can go alone,” Solina offered, obviously able to read her husband better than anyone else.
Wiley leaned over and gave her a kiss on her cheek. “Nah. I promised. And besides, your parents are great.”
Which, if O’Shea remembered correctly, hadn’t always been the case. The pair had been diplomats and workaholics in their younger years, and had dragged Solina into their world, even though she had no interest in state dinners and rubbing elbows with presidents. Since she’d met Wiley, the older couple had backed off from their overbearing propensity, content to let their daughter run her small antique store south of the city.
O’Shea bit the inside of her cheek. Brigid had said that Solina and Wiley had no intentions of having kids. She wondered how that would go over with the elder Dalats?
“If you change your mind, Wiles, just let us know,” Billboard chimed in, then turned back to O’Shea. “You ready?”
She’d been ready. O’Shea pushed her chair back and came to her feet. “Sure. Let’s go.”
The ride back was, as she’d predicted, pretty quiet, but not in an uncomfortable way. Billboard had asked her preference in music, and she’d filled the void by singing along with the lyrics from some of her favorite bands. She’d even got Billboard to add his baritone a time or two, and she considered that a huge win.
A few streets before they arrived at the hotel, O’Shea sucked her lip into her mouth and sent Billboard the thousand-dollar question. “You’re not going to kiss me again, are you. Not even a decent peck goodnight?”
He shook his head, seemingly regretful. “Nope. It was a mistake to do it once, because now that I’ve had a taste of you, it’s hard to hold back. But I meant what I said, earlier.”
“I know, I know,” O’Shea lamented. “You need to find out if there’s any substance under all the burning-out-of-control lust we get when we rub our two bodies together. It just sucks that you have so much self-control.”
“Yeah, well, one of us has to be the grown up.”
O’Shea swore to God if he reached over and patted her head, she’d smack him. Lucky for him, he didn’t.
“Here we are,” he grunted, pulling up to the front of the swank hotel facade.
O’Shea noted the valet approaching to park their car, but she gave him a shake of her head, and a one-minute finger. He judiciously walked back to his station.
“I don’t suppose you’re coming in?” she added hopefully. Sometimes a woman had to push for what she wanted.
Billboard shook his head. “Nope. I have an early job tomorrow.”
It was an excuse, and O’Shea knew it, but since he’d been so forthcoming with everything else this evening, she’d give him a pass.
“Okay. How about tomorrow, after work?” she continued. Good intentions and patience only went so far.
Billboard chuckled. “You’re really going to press for this, aren’t you?” he managed.
“After that kiss we shared? You better believe it, Billboard.” She grew serious. “If I didn’t think you were totally worth it—and I mean the whole package, your personality, your honesty, your dedication, and your hotness—I simply would have seduced you into my bed and used you for that magnificent cock of yours. Which I haven’t seen yet.” She gave a pout, glancing pointedly at his crotch. “And now,” she sighed, “since I didn’t pack my vibrator, I’m going to have to find an all-night adult store, and hope they’re peddling something as large as you, so I can take the edge off my aggravation.”
Billboard laugh/groaned, and covered his face with one hand. “You are so terrible, O’Shea, leaving me with that picture.”
“Hey. If I’m going to be frustrated, then you’re going to be, too.”
“Noted,” Billboard answered, this time adjusting his lengthening cock without any embarrassment at all.
Good. She was already making headway.
O’Shea opened the door and got out. She’d been tempted to go in for a quick smooch, but he’d made the rules, so…
“See you tomorrow night, Billboard?” she turned and prompted, not having received an answer before.
He sighed, but not disgruntledly. “Yes, O’Shea. You will. I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear clothes you don’t mind getting dirty.”
“Ooh, dirty?” Her brows waggled at his choice of words.
“I mean with actual dirt,” he corrected with a snort. “Don’t you ever give up?”
“Nope. Never. And you’re going to love that about me,” she warned. She wouldn’t go into detail about that declaration, but hopefully Billboard could read between the lines, and understood that she’d be hanging onto him tenaciously, no matter what shit he eventually revealed to her.
Billboard huffed. “I’m already seeing there’s nothing about you that’s a deal-killer. Just…behave yourself and wait for me to catch up. Okay?”
She thought about that for about five seconds. “I’ll behave myself physically ,” she agreed, “but verbally, you have no hope of slowing my roll.”
“Duly noted,” he said, conceding. “Goodnight, O’Shea.”
“Goodnight, Billboard.” She closed the door, blew him a kiss, then walked into the lobby before pausing.
Right. She’d already discovered that the hotel carried no decent chocolate. The mini-bar in her room had a random-ass selection of commercially acceptable things that she recognized from Halloween as a kid, and her palate had long since moved past that pre-adolescent display.
Which meant a walk was in order.
A quick trip to her room had her grabbing her sweatshirt. The evening was a little cold, even though it was mid-June. Or was it her? O’Shea shrugged. She supposed she’d get used to the temperature differences between here and home.
Reaching the lobby again, she pushed back out through the doors and approached the valet. “Where can someone find some decent chocolate this time of night?” she asked.
The young man grinned. “There’s a great convenience store around the corner that sells all the good stuff,” he told her, then pointed. “Two blocks that way, then hang a right and go three more. You’ll see it. It’s busy even at this time of night.”
“Thanks,” she said. “Can I bring you back something?”
His smile grew even wider as he named a bar that was one of her all-time favorites.
“You got it.”
She took off briskly in the direction indicated, already anticipating the dark smoothness melting on her tongue.
****
“Geeze. The kid wasn’t lying,” O’Shea chortled to herself as she looked over the vast selection on display. Picking up a half dozen of her favorites, she added a couple extra for the valet since he’d been so helpful.
Checking out was a bit of an eye-opener though. Back home, she would have paid half what her bounty cost her here, but she supposed it was night-time. In a big city. And since her brother had sprung for her room, she could afford a lot of chocolate.
After paying, she walked back toward the hotel slowly, but O’Shea couldn’t help herself. She opened the foil on one bar to savor a few bites before she arrived.
Passing an alley, one of many, she paused. Had she heard…?
Nah . It must have been a rat.
Didn’t Boston have a problem with those? Or was that New York? Whatever. O’Shea started to walk again, but the plaintive noise sounded a second time.
“Well, damn.” Whatever it was, she couldn’t just leave it without seeing if it was okay. O’Shea wished she had her service weapon on her, just in case it was some kind of trap. But she had some mad fighting skills, which meant if she had to defend herself, she would. Especially if whoever it was, made her drop her bag of candy. Then, there’d be hell to pay.
“Hello?” she called out, inching into the darkness. “Is someone there?”
The small lament sounded again, but this time it sounded more like a…
Shit .
O’Shea fished out her phone, hit the flashlight function, and shined the light in front of her to see a small pile of cardboard boxes. She leaned over…
There. Movement.
Slowly she squatted down on her heels and just as she was about to give up, she saw two bright eyes peering out from behind a jumble of bunched up paper.
Her breath emerged in one, relieved whoosh.
“Well, hello kitty. Who are you?” She placed her bag on the ground after finding a non-damp looking spot, then propped her phone against it to send a free hand toward the small bundle. The puss was pretty big; certainly not a kitten. Her face was round, her chest muscular but lanky, and her fur was longish and badly matted.
“Oh, you poor thing. Are you homeless?” O’Shea had a soft spot for animals, even though she’d never owned one. She was the go-to auntie for any colleague who needed a pet sitter while they went on vacation.
“Will you come see me?” O’Shea coaxed, shuffling forward a step.
The cat backed up, and O’Shea knew she needed something more enticing than just her fingers. “Wait here,” she told the cat, unnecessarily. “I saw some kitty food…”
She backed slowly away, and leaving her precious candy behind, she ran back toward the convenience store, laughing at herself. If the cat were some kind of scam, whoever had set it up had her chocolate, now.
It took only minutes to find a package of cat treats. And on impulse, O’Shea picked up two cans of cat food as well before paying and running back to the alley.
“I’m back, kitty,” she cooed, appreciating the fact that her bag was where she’d left it. She quickly added the two cans she’d purchased, to her stash. “And this is for you right now.” She shook the treats bag. “It’s the good stuff.”
O’Shea went down to her haunches again and dumped a few of the yummies out into the palm of her hand.
This time the cat didn’t hesitate. She came forward with purpose, and quickly ate everything she’d been offered, then head-butted O’Shea’s hand as if to say, “Where’s the rest?”
O’Shea laughed. “You’re a bossy one, aren’t you.” She shook a few more treats out, and this time the cat purred while scarfing them down. Taking a chance, O’Shea patted the feline with her free hand, and the cat arched into her touch.
“You’re friendly, too,” she hummed.
Making a quick decision she’d probably regret, O’Shea dumped a few more treats on the ground before standing up to pull off her sweatshirt. Without hesitating, she bent, placed it over the thin, gray body, wrapping the cat up in its folds while preparing for a battle.
When the two yellow eyes simply regarded her calmly from within the clothing’s warmth, O’Shea felt a thrill of acceptance.
“Oh, snap. You’re going to be mine from now on, aren’t you?” she asked, and the cat purred more loudly than before.
O’Shea, feeling suddenly giddy, reached down and picked up her bag of chocolate.
“Okay then. Now I just have to figure out how to smuggle you into the hotel.”