Prologue Recruitment #2
“Dad never told me. She never told me.” Adriana took the drink. “She gave up her dreams because of me.”
He remained unmoving. Like he was trapped in time and watching her fall to her knees in despair all over again at the news of her mother’s death.
“Are you doing this because you think you owe it to her?”
“I want you to be happy for me. I was so excited to share the news with you.”
“You were nervous.” Knox gulped down his second drink and set the glass on the bar. “Did you come here so I’d talk you out of it?”
“No.” She downed her glass in one long swig before shaking off a wince.
She was drinking away her nerves, which meant he was right. But he also knew she was stubborn and trying to get her to back down would be pointless. She had to come to the realization on her own.
He faced the bar again and bowed his head, struggling with what the hell to say or do.
It could’ve been a minute, or an hour, that he’d remained frozen without speaking—he wasn’t sure, but he finally whispered, “Addy.”
“Charlie Jackson Bennett, don’t you Addy me. You turn around and give me a proper hug and congratulations.” Her Southern drawl sank deep into each word as if she were biting down on her back teeth, trying not to cry, and he hated himself for making her feel that way.
“Pulling out all three names on me, huh?” He tried to soften the blow, to ease the touch of discomfort he’d inflicted when he hadn’t thrown her the full weight of his support.
“Well, it worked,” she announced as he turned, feeling like he moved both heaven and hell to face her. “You’re looking at me, at least.”
She pouted. Damn her.
He forced a smile, hoping to sever the ropes of concern that tethered his body to the ocean’s shore while wave after wave relentlessly attempted to swallow him. If anything ever happened to this woman, he’d drown.
A smirk matched his as she set her glass aside. Happiness had returned.
As terrified as he was at the idea of her joining the Secret Service, he’d be the friend she needed even if it pained him. Always.
“You got some fly shades to wear, at least?” he joked. “I hear it’s a requirement.”
She slapped his chest, but thank God, her smile had broadened. “That’s all Hollywood.”
“It could get sunny out.” He kept up with the charade, hoping another shot of Jack would tamp down the flame of worry that threatened to turn into a full-blown fire.
“Well”—she waved a finger between them—“are you going to hug me or what?”
“Didn’t we already hug when you first got here?” She reached out to playfully swat him again, but he caught her wrist this time. “I’m going to miss you when I leave.” He palmed her cheek with his free hand, not ready to lose hold of her.
“I’m glad I got to see you before you deploy.” A quick pout followed. “Deployment sucks.”
He loved his work. His squadron. The only downfall—leaving her. Not being there to protect Addy. “I know,” he whispered, fighting to maintain a tight thread of control in his tone.
“I’m doing the right thing.” She lightly nodded. “I promise.”
It was then that he finally hugged her. Her cherry blossom shampoo found his nose, and he committed the scent to memory. And for the first time, the fear of not making it home from his next rotation struck him.
Who’d protect her if he died?
Her dad was only in the picture on the random days he decided to sober up.
Shit.
But no, she needed him to be strong. To be happy for her.
He didn’t want to screw this up a second time tonight even if he was right about her joining for the wrong reasons. Then again, hadn’t he done the same when he joined the Navy, and it turned out better than okay?
“I need another drink.” She sidestepped him to pour herself a Jack, then sucked it down like a champ.
“I’m sorry for the way I reacted,” he said on a sigh as she set down her empty glass. “Congratulations. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
She eyed him cautiously, almost as if she didn’t believe his words. “You have to promise me you won’t do the thing.” She flicked her ponytail to her back. “And don’t you dare use those dimples against me right now. You know what they do to me.”
“Same as the puppy dog eyes you give me,” he countered and deepened his smile. “I’ll use my ammunition all day long.”
“Charlie,” she scolded. “Promise.”
He rolled his eyes and crossed his fingers behind his back. “I won’t do the thing.”
“You go overboard when it comes to keeping me safe, and I—”
“I’m not that bad.” Maybe he was, but he couldn’t help himself when it came to her.
“You had an entire SEAL Team show up on my date the last time you were overseas.”
“Because you were going out with that douchebag MMA guy who has been known to hit his girlfriends, and he needed to know if he laid a hand on you, he’d die.”
“I’ve never seen a professional fighter piss himself before.” A smile pulled at her lips.
“And you’ll never see it again if I have anything to do with it. You shouldn’t give guys like that your time.”
“You’re jealous.” Adriana had one dimple. One beautiful dimple in her right cheek that popped whenever she got embarrassed. “Not of dating me, I mean,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Of his profession.” She waved her hand through the air. “He gets to beat people up for a living.”
“And I shoot people.” He was trying to come across as some badass, but she knew him too damn well.
“You hate killing, don’t give me that.”
“Anyway. You’ve got to stop dating assholes, babe.” Or hell, stop dating period. He’d suggest a monastery, but then his dirty thoughts about her might secure him a spot in hell, and he’d prefer his soul make a beeline toward the Big Man in the sky when it was his time.
“They aren’t all assholes.” She tightened her ponytail and tucked the loose strands behind her diamond-studded ears.
She was wearing the half-carat diamonds he’d given her last Christmas.
Bought with his hard-earned money, not his pop’s dough.
“And you’ve gone and distracted me. How can I trust you won’t go into protective-guy mode on me in my new job? ”
“I promised I’ll be good.” The lift of her perfectly sculpted brows meant she didn’t believe him, but he knew her well enough to know she didn’t mind his protection as much as she let on.
“And I know you had your fingers crossed behind your back when you made that promise.”
His gaze whipped to her backside as she poured their drinks. Her low-slung jeans were snug, and that particular pair always managed to catch his eye.
She was his best friend, damn it. He shouldn’t be checking out her ass. But in his defense, the woman had an ass like no other. And maybe he needed the distraction right now.
But . . .
He cupped the back of his head and shifted toward the plain white wall that at some point probably needed a picture on it.
Grandma. Grandma. Grandma.
He had to stop the blood flow shooting through his dick at breakneck speed.
Wrong time. It’d always be the wrong time for anything other than friendship between them, though, even if he wanted more.
A few breaths later, he faced her. “If you fall for one of those shade-wearing-Secret—”
“I have training. Georgia then D.C. I’ll be too busy to date.” She handed him his glass.
“Good.”
“Well, I plan on continuing to drink. Can I crash here?” She plopped on the couch and kicked off her Nikes.
“When have you ever had to ask?” He joined her and stretched his legs out.
“I didn’t want to interrupt some sort of pre-deployment shag fest you might have planned.”
“No ‘shag fest’ on the schedule. And what, are you British now?” He fought a smile.
“I wish.” She fanned her face. “Love the accent.”
“So, that’s why you dated that MMA douche? Because of his accent?” He’d really hated that guy. Well, he hated every guy she went out with.
“Oh, no. It was for his body.” She tipped back more of her drink, then a light moan left her mouth when she mirrored his position, extending her long legs.
“Driving four hours nonstop—I’m sore.” She squeezed her right thigh, her hand brushing his leg in the process.
“I need to get out of these jeans, too. You still have some of my stuff here?”
“Nah, I chucked it.”
“I’m gonna kick your sarcastic ass in about two point five.”
He held up his arm as if checking the time on a watch that wasn’t there. “How many threats has that been since you’ve been here?”
She flicked a finger in the air between them and squinted in an effort to be threatening, which on her only looked cute.
“Your stuff is in the guest room closet where it always is.”
“But you know what I really want, right?” She purred her question in a far too sexy voice for his comfort.
They’d been nothing more than friends for years. You’d think his dick would’ve learned a thing or two about boundaries. Guess not.
“I’ll be right back.” He dropped his feet to the floor and went to his bedroom.
When he came back, he halted outside the living room at the sight of Adriana peeling her shirt over her head. The music channel on his TV playing now, too.
She faced him with her give-me arms. “My favorite shirt.”
He didn’t move. He was too sidetracked by her black lacy bra and the fact it barely held her breasts in place. “You and I are close, but maybe change in the other room?” He’d done his best to loosen the words free without sounding like a pubescent teenage boy.
“What?” She tossed her shirt aside. “I mean, you’ve even seen me buck naked before.”
“That was years ago, and it was your fault. You were drunk and strutting around naked singing an Ace of Base song.”
He tossed her the basketball jersey he’d had since his college ball days.
She pulled it over her head—thank God—but then started shimmying out of her jeans, kicking them in the air once she’d managed to get them off.
Damn it. The liquor was speeding through her veins and steering her into the danger zone.
The zone where she lost all inhibition and good sense.
The zone where she had a tendency to flirt with him.