18. Rio
The kissing led to a heavy make-out session, which led to hand-jobs, which led to a doze as the sun went down.
We spent the first half of the next day fairly well entwined, until I got the sense that Saint was feeling a little claustrophobic. I couldn’t blame him, he hadn’t had much time to himself in the last few weeks, and now there was a pretty big, potentially long-term change that would put us in one another’s orbit outside of my job here. I kissed him lightly at around three pm and suggested that he go have a bath and I would go get us an early dinner.
Saint looked at me with big eyes, apparently surprised by my suggestion, and I offered a flirty smile. “Go relax, Sexy,” I said. “Think about what you’d like me to do to you later.”
His eyes stayed big, but his lips widened into a smile. “Sí, Osito…” he purred.
A fine shiver raced through me and I laughed lightly. “And I’ll spend my time away thinking about what I want you to do to me,” I promised.
He chuckled. “It’s a date.”
There weren’t a lot of places to get takeout in this town, and we had tried several and permanently rejected one already. I was waiting inside a bar, the crowd at 4:30 pm was minimal. The burgers here were supposed to be good, and the variety of available toppings boded well. I had one eye on what was happening around me and one on my phone in case Saint called or texted. I was a little surprised to get a text from Paloma, though.
How’s the job with Shiloah’s brother?
Decent. Hurry up and wait right now. How’s the engagement?
Perfect. We’re tasting wedding cakes tomorrow. Shiloah is coming, too, he’s Alma’s man of honor. He said Jackson’s jealous, but he promised to take him some tastes.
My head tilted. I knew Shiloah was with Jackson Lee. I knew Jackson a little, but he had been on a long-term assignment before being sent to Tennessee. I was still on short-term gigs when he left so our paths rarely crossed. He lived in the Alden Security building like I did, it was one of the perks of being employed there, but it sounded like he was still in Tennessee even though the case was over. Ginny wasn’t after Shiloah anymore, did he really still need a bodyguard? And wasn’t it weird to be paid to stay there with him? Jackson is staying there? I texted.
Yes. His boss got him a job with Gordon Payne and a permanent post down south.
Interesting… So he’s in TN permanently?
Yes, it’s long-term. That way he can keep his job and stay with Shiloah. They’re so sweet together.
That meant John knew and gave him the job. That meant that John was not opposed to agent/client relationships. That meant that–
So… are you two fake dating too?
I was glad we weren’t on a voice call, I would have given myself away completely. Yeah. We’re laying low right now, got some tails we’re avoiding and we’re just a couple on a little getaway. She wouldn’t read between the lines on that.
Yes, she would. Ooooo, Gregorio Torrez. Those Durand boys like muscles, don’t they?
Motherfucker. Lee had teased very similarly. Jackson wasn’t as bulky as me, but there were a few similarities. They did have a bit of a type. Still, I maybe do too so… I shrugged mentally and reread the message, attempting to think up a noncommittal reply. I’m lots of people’s type.
I swore I could hear the cackle from here. Well, you two have fun, and remember that Jackson talked to his boss. He asked for what he wanted and he got it.
I stared at the last text for a long time. The bartender brought the bag of takeout and sat it in front of me, and I absently nodded thanks, but I didn’t get up.
He asked for what he wanted. That’s kind of how I ended up here. I asked John if I could have a longer-term gig and he agreed. I usually didn’t ask for things outside of the bedroom. Give me a willing sub, or even just a vanilla partner, and I could communicate with the best of them. Professionally, however, I didn’t make waves. I was a put my head down and do my job kind of person. I didn’t draw attention to myself.
I had drawn attention to myself when I talked to John, though, and it had ended in something good.
Would I be able to do it again? Did I want to do it again? What if I talked to John and he told me no, that I hadn’t been on this job long enough and I needed to go back and work in Colorado, or somewhere else? What if he fired me? Jackson was a longstanding employee with a fantastic reputation. I didn’t have much of a reputation at all yet.
Then I thought about Saint’s desperate kiss when I had told him that we could try this, even if it was long-distance, and I knew that soon I would be placing a call to John Alden too.
I was pondering that on the way back to the room when I felt my phone go off again. I looked at it and felt a chill.
Enjoy the burgers, Gregorio. You never know what your last meal might be.
I was two blocks from the room and I booked it, bursting into the room to an offended gasp from Saint, who was sitting on the bed.
“Has anybody called? Anybody knocked?” I asked, dumping the food on the desk.
Saint shook his head. “No, nobody. Why? What happened?”
I showed him the message and he paled. “They found us? How’d they get your phone number?”
“How’d they get your fucking credit card number? It’s Greene! They’re watching us, Saint,” I said urgently. “We need to go, please. Now.” My tone was halfway between demanding and pleading, already throwing my things into my duffle.
Saint was starting to shake his head, then looked down at my phone in his hand. “Did you see anybody?” he asked quietly.
I shook my head as I shoved my socks and underwear into the bag. “No. Dead as a door nail, except a couple old ass drunks who’re gonna drop off the stools before they pry the bottles from their hands. Didn’t see anybody outside, either.”
Saint nodded slowly, swallowing. “We should eat?” he asked hesitantly. “Book another room?”
Relief flooded me. I was expecting him to fight me one hundred percent. “Yes. Use the Alden Security card. There’re so many layers of protection around the financials for the Agency it’s not funny.”
“I’ll get dressed.” Saint laid my phone by the burgers and went to dig in his clothes. For the first time, I realized he was in a towel and I wished I had the time to appreciate him, but there were other things to think about right now.
I finished packing and began to wolf my burger. It was a shame I didn’t have time to enjoy it, it really was delicious.
I began to look at other towns, and when Saint was dressed he dropped down beside me and ate his burger too while we looked. We booked the room, shoved everything into the car and I slid into the driver’s seat. When I put the key in, though, nothing happened.
I tried twice and then Saint and I looked at one another. “It’s not out of gas,” I said.
“I know, we filled it up an hour before we hit this place,” Saint replied, looking at the indicators on the dash. The check engine light had come on after the second attempt at starting the car, and when I tried one last time it made an unholy sound that had me cranking the key back to off.
“I think someone did something to it,” I said, and Saint cursed. I swiveled my head, taking in our surroundings, and reached to pull my gun from the small of my back. “Back inside, now,” I ordered him and he grabbed his backpack and obeyed, scurrying back to the hotel room. I had my duffle in one hand and my gun in the other and I closed the door, stopping short of slamming it because I didn’t want to draw attention to us.
“Now what?” Saint hissed frantically. “Someone had to have done something to it, it was running fine yesterday.”
“I don’t know,” I said, double-checking every window and door lock. I checked my watch and shook my head. “We can call a mechanic but I bet you fifty bucks they won’t touch it til morning in a town like this.”
“I know,” Saint said. He was pacing, turning his head to keep me in his sightline. “I’ll call to get it in though. Maybe they can tow it tonight and start first thing.”
I nodded. That was a good idea and half an hour later, I watched an older but well-cared-for tow truck scoop Saint’s little car up and load it onto the back of the trailer. The driver assured him they would give it a good going over first thing in the morning, gave Saint a receipt, and drove off.
“Well, time to go play sitting duck,” Saint said when they were gone. He wasn’t wrong. I sighed, kissed his temple, and willed morning to come.