Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“It’s far too hot to eat outside,” Julia grumbled.
Finn looked up after gathering a forkful of kofta, the Egyptian version of meatballs flavored with local spices, and studied Julia’s pouty face while he slowly savored his bite of food before speaking.
“So, eat on the bed or at the desk in the room,” he suggested as he tore off a piece of naan and dipped it into tahini sauce.
He’d refused to let her leave the room, even for dinner, while Lorenzo and his boss were somewhere in the hotel. No telling what might happen if Lorenzo spotted her. Not to mention, Finn still had a mission to accomplish, and he couldn’t let some plastic surgeon blow his op.
Julia pointed to the fan over their heads. “This thing just blows hot air around.”
“Is this your favorite pastime activity lately?” he teased. “Complaining?” Oh yeah, he knew that would earn him a scowl.
“Hilarious.” She listlessly poked at a lamb kebab but abandoned her food to take in the view of the Nile.
The deep azure of the sky was melting into a hazy purplish blue as the sun began to fade into what Finn could only describe as a romantic sunset.
Add in the exotic location and delicious meal, and it almost felt like he was on a date.
If only he weren’t sitting across from this particular woman.
When was my last real date? He had no clue.
Finn’s thoughts quickly shifted when Julia carefully and deliberately set down her fork, then lifted a petite hand to her throat.
Mesmerized, he watched as she dragged her palm down the length of her slender neck and continued the journey toward her cleavage.
She had on yet another dress, this one too sexy to wear in public, but since she was now a prisoner to the room, he supposed it didn’t matter.
Except for the fact that the red cotton dress had a plunging neckline.
And when she crossed her legs off to the side of the small table, the entire length of her tan legs was exposed.
And how could he not take notice?
That “doggy style” comment she’d made had nearly killed him earlier, and it’d played on a loop in his head ever since. He had to order himself not to picture . . .
Look up, asshole. She’s going to see you staring at her chest. And too late. She caught him. By the time he planted his eyes where they’d belonged, she’d shot him a look that said I saw you, buddy.
“I’m not always a pain. Or mean.”
“You just save this award-winning personality for me, huh?”
“I’m tense. Very, very tense. For a lot of reasons.”
He sat taller and scooted his chair a little closer to their tight two-person table. “So, tell me, what’s got you tense, sunshine?”
“I’m not a hurricane anymore?”
“Ha. More like a tornado. But hey, let’s not split hairs.” He winked. She pretended to hate it. He assumed, at least.
“I am not a tornado. Maybe a bit of a wrecking ball lately, but only because of—”
“Stress. Tension. Got it.” He was tempted to snatch his sunglasses to shield his eyes from her view, but it was growing dark out. “So, tell me the truth. I know you were being a bit of a bully in New York to try and get me to quit, but now you need me, and you have me, so talk.”
“I have you?” Why was there a touch of sadness blooming through her tone as if she didn’t believe she really did have him?
When her hand plummeted to her lap, disappearing beneath the black wicker table, he replied, “Of course.” And then he remembered Wyatt’s orders and added, “I won’t tell Michael about this. I’ll help you. So yes, you have me.”
He hoped like hell that wasn’t a lie. He never wanted to be considered a liar. His brother had lied and lied. So many lies. And where had those lies gotten him?
“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you everything after Harper and Roman retrieve Giorgio’s client list.”
And speaking of that, Finn checked his watch. Harper and Roman were currently implementing the plan Echo Team had come up with on the fly two hours ago after Finn promised Julia he’d steal the list.
Over the course of the nine years they’d been operating, Echo Team had accessed criminals’ laptops dozens of times, so this would be an easy task.
Harper and Roman were replicating a maneuver they’d pulled in Chechnya two years ago, which required that they check into the, thankfully vacant, room next to the doctor’s.
According to the “friend” who’d provided Julia with intel, Giorgio was initially registered at another hotel. Finn guessed he most likely made the last-minute change to this one because Tariq had requested or demanded it.
“If the laptop is in his room while Giorgio’s not there, then they’ll download the files,” he said with easy confidence.
“And if it’s not there, then we go with plan B.
” He refilled their glasses with the bottle of water from the ice bucket sitting on the ground by the table.
The silver bucket was sweating from the heat and useless out there. Lukewarm at best.
“And if Giorgio put his computer in a safe while he’s at dinner?”
“They’ll breach the safe. No big deal.”
“What are you all, a bunch of MacGyvers?”
He smiled and leaned toward her. “Even better.” He set a finger to his lips. “But don’t tell anyone.” And honestly, he wasn’t kidding about that part. She already knew too much about them.
“Why do I get the feeling bodyguard duty isn’t your usual gig? That this,” she began while spreading open her arms, “is more your speed?”
He contemplated an answer that wouldn’t make him a liar, then decided to deflect. Echo Team didn’t technically exist. “I didn’t think Lorenzo was your type. Makes more sense that you used him. He looks nothing like that actor you like.”
Julia took a sip of her water, and he’d swear she was fighting a smile. “You’re right. That man is nowhere near my type. But it’s Ryan Reynolds’s humor I’m attracted to. Looks-wise, I’m not really attracted to him.”
“Who are you into, then?” You idiot. Get back on track. He cleared his throat, preparing himself to guide the conversation back in the direction of discovering her secrets.
“I don’t know,” she said softly. If her voice hadn’t trembled slightly, he might have believed that answer. “Not military types, though.”
“Wow.” Finn slapped a hand to his chest. “I feel a little offended on behalf of myself and your brother. And everyone who has ever served or still does.”
She rolled her eyes and pinned her shoulders back, then sighed and let them fall a touch.
“It’s not like that. I just can’t handle the worrying.
When Michael was serving, it was hard. I pride myself on being a strong and independent woman, but it takes a special kind of person to marry someone who is active duty.
And then . . .” Her words trailed off as her eyes cut to the river.
“The man I hoped to marry back when I was still in college had been in the service,” she said around a swallow, and shit, he had a bad feeling where this was going, “two deployments in Iraq. He, um, didn’t handle civilian life so well after that, though. ”
Finn wished he had a whiskey, so he’d be able to digest what he was worried was coming next. Something to dilute the pain a little. To soften all the blows he’d been hit with over the years that would surely rise to the surface when she revealed her past. If she kept sharing, that was.
“He’s dead because of me,” she quickly said, and that was definitely not what he expected to hear.
“He had a drinking problem. I didn’t realize it at the time because I was busy with a double major at UNC.
I guess he took up drinking while between jobs after the Army to the point he was a high-functioning alcoholic, and he hid it from me.
” Her lips pursed into a disappointed-in-herself frown.
“So, when I asked him to pick me up from a party one night because I didn’t want to drink and drive .
. . I was completely unaware he’d been drinking when we talked on the phone. I was a pathetic girlfriend.”
“Pathetic? God no.” He kept himself glued to his seat as his heart raced, and he did his best not to go drop by her side. To take hold of her delicate hands and protect them inside his big, rough ones. To take away her guilt and pain. How could she think it was her fault?
Then again, don’t I still blame myself for—
“He was killed in a car accident on the way to pick me up. So, you see, it was my fault.”
“Fuck,” he said under his breath.
And now he understood some of those layers Julia wore so well. He wore a few layers himself.
Finn pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to find it in himself to get through this conversation without succumbing to his own demons. He sure as hell didn’t want to make this about himself. And he also needed to keep his mind sharp for later.
As it stood, POTUS wanted Echo to charlie mike. Continue the mission.
Their orders regarding Tariq were “watch” and “do nothing.”
A few hours earlier, Chris and A.J. successfully confirmed the location where the weapons were stored for tomorrow’s exchange, which meant the boys would move out as planned at zero three hundred.
“So, I guess I avoid dating guys who are or were in the service because I’m worried I’ll miss the warning signs if there’s ever a problem. I failed once before, and I can’t let that happen again.”
Finn rubbed his chest when an unexpected lump of emotion hit him center mass as if he’d had a plate on but had been shot, which still hurt like a motherfucker. Been there, done that. He preferred not to take another bullet again if he could help it.
Had this tornado of a woman just made herself vulnerable?
“I didn’t mean to lay all of that on you,” Julia said softly, her eyes fixed on her barely eaten plate of food. “I honestly have no idea why I told you all of that. I don’t think I’ve said that out loud before.” Her voice broke on the last words.
Honestly, he was used to people confiding in him.
Harper had shared the fact that she and Roman had been secretly sleeping together long before anyone else on Bravo or Echo had known they’d gone from friends to lovers and back to friends again (and now engaged).
Other friends and teammates had dropped truth bombs on him as well over the years. Was there something about him that made people want to share?
You’re a good listener, his brother always told him growing up, even at a young age. The problem solver in the family.
Finn hadn’t solved every problem. And some secrets weren’t easy to bear.
“It’s okay. I’m glad you told me, and I’m sorry for your loss.” A shaky breath followed, and he looked down to see his hands clutching the chair arms. When did that happen? “Not your fault, though. Don’t blame yourself.”
“That’s what Oliver always says,” she whispered in a sad voice.
“And who is Oliver?”
Her forehead tightened, and she was the one releasing an exhale now. “Oliver is Tucker’s brother, and he’s the one I’m trying to save.”