Chapter 7
Gabe pulled up outside Bonnie’s Brew, and Woody jumped out of the truck. “Don’t forget I want coconut milk now,” she shouted after her.
Woody waved over her shoulder, and Gabe rolled back into traffic.
“Remind me why you’ve changed milks?” Shay poked Gabe’s bicep. “It’s not like cows haven’t done their fair share to build this body.”
“I’m just trying something different.”
Shay arched her eyebrow and twisted to talk to RB in the back. “Doesn’t Lori like coconut milk?”
RB’s expression indicated she had no idea, but she grinned. “Yeah, I reckon she does. She works quick. Didn’t take her long to get you under control, did it?”
“What’re you talking about? It’s just milk.” Gabe took the right into the alley alongside their garage.
Shay shook her head slowly. “It always starts with the milk, doesn’t it, RB? Then it’s the meals, and ‘Honey, are you sure you want that second helping of pie?’ Before you know it, she’ll be sending you to work with a to-go cup of green tea and no money for coffee.”
“What the hell have you two been binge-watching now? No lesbians have done that ever in the history of the world.”
Shay laughed. “Probably not. But you’ve been drinking a half gallon of milk every day since I’ve known you. So what’s up with the coconut?” She didn’t actually believe that Lori had any designs to change Gabe at all, but it was fun making her squirm.
“Jesus. If you really need to know, I picked up the wrong coffee at Bonnie’s the other day, and I liked it.” Gabe gave Shay a sideways glare. “So no, Lori doesn’t like coconut milk, and she likes my body just fine so I can eat all the pie I—”
“What’s this joker doing here?” Shay gestured to the huge black SUV with tinted windows parked sideways in front of the gated entrance to their garage lot.
Gabe pulled to a stop twenty yards short of the vehicle but didn’t cut the engine. “Nobody recognizes it?”
RB shuffled to the center console and stuck her head between their shoulders. “Nope. And there’s nothing on the books for a Yukon today or for the rest of the week.”
Shay looked at RB. “You memorize what we’ve got coming in?”
RB shrugged. “It’s a habit.”
“Huh.” Shay turned back to look at the mystery vehicle, but no one had emerged from within it yet. “Maybe it’s been abandoned,” she said and reached for the door handle.
Gabe grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. “Wait. You don’t know who’s in there.”
Shay chuckled. “Who do you think it is? Some covert government operatives who want our old Army skills for some undercover operation? This isn’t an episode of the A-Team, Gabe.”
“What’s the A-Team?” RB asked.
“How can she not—”
“She’s younger than us; we’ll fix it later,” Shay said and opened her door. “Let’s go see who our clandestine clients are.” By the time she’d gotten out and was at the hood of the truck, Gabe and RB were beside her.
“Should I get a tire iron?” RB asked.
Shay smirked. “We’ve got Gabe. If their intentions are nefarious, the only reason you might need a tire iron will be to unknot them after she’s finished with them.”
Gabe cracked her knuckles and grinned. “It’s been a minute since we had a fight together.”
“You sound hopeful,” Shay said.
Before Gabe could answer, all four doors of the SUV sprang open.
Two tall women got out of the front. From the look of their buzzcuts and the almost-matching outfits of dark trousers with shirts and ties, maybe Gabe wasn’t that far from the truth.
One of the passengers in the rear of the vehicle emerged, and Shay couldn’t help but twitch a little.
The woman wore a battered brown leather jacket and faded jeans stuck inside work boots, but she also had long brown hair that only softened the seriousness of her expression only slightly.
The twitch switched gear into something else when Shay got a glimpse of the hardware she was packing.
“Gun,” she whispered and felt Gabe and RB’s answering tension like a brick wall pressing against her chest. She couldn’t see the final passenger until she walked around one of the buzzcut women.
“Sergeant Gabe Jackson and Corporals Shanae Washington and Felicity ‘RB’ Thomas. It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” She saluted and walked toward them.
Shay recognized the voice before its owner came fully into focus. “Elodie Fontaine?”
Elodie nodded and came around the front of the Yukon. “I’m sorry we didn’t call ahead. I have to be careful who knows my schedule.” She shook hands with Gabe then Shay and RB.
Elodie’s long-haired friend stood by her side, though her approach had been stealthier, like she’d appeared rather than walked, and offered her hand too. “You should apologize for those two. I told her she didn’t need ’em, but her agent insisted.”
“Paige is just being extra careful after what happened to CJ in Utah,” Elodie said. “And she didn’t know you were coming with me.”
Shay’s interest piqued; that inferred Elodie’s friend was more capable than her two hefty bodyguards combined.
She assumed they were here to pick up the Brewster; maybe they were staying in the city and would be at a loose end.
Shay had a hookup arranged with Rosie tonight, but she’d bet Rosie would be happy to entertain Elodie’s friend together.
The friend’s lips quirked slightly, clearly registering Shay’s interest.
Elodie’s friend motioned to Gabe. “Twenty bucks,” she said to Elodie and held out her hand. “Pay up.”
Elodie rolled her eyes. “Subtle, Ice.”
She smiled at them, and Shay bit her lip.
Elodie was a touch too hard and her hair too short for Shay’s usual taste, but there was still something undeniably magnetic about her that made Shay swoon.
She looked again at the friend Elodie had called Ice.
Melting her seemed more achievable than a night with Elodie now that the infamous player had taken herself off the market to play happy families with a celebrated investigative journalist.
Elodie pulled her wallet from the inside pocket of her jacket and opened it. “We had a bet about how big you were compared to my friend Dak,” she said and handed a crisp twenty-dollar bill to Ice. “She won.”
Shay could almost feel Gabe preen beside her as she stood a little straighter and puffed out her considerable chest.
“Am I bigger or smaller than your friend?” Gabe asked.
Elodie’s smile grew wider, clearly recognizing Gabe’s fragile ego. “Bigger, like Ice said you were. I didn’t think regular women came much bigger than Dak.”
Shay heard “Oh my God” at about the same time as the sound of a tray of coffee hitting the ground echoed down the alley.
“It’s really you,” Woody said.
Shay turned to see Woody pulling her phone from her pants pocket. She shook her head and motioned for her to stow it.
“It’s okay,” Elodie said. “I’m happy for you to take photos, but maybe we could go inside.” She gestured toward the passing pedestrian traffic at the top of the passageway.
“Absolutely.” Gabe opened the side door.
The bodyguards entered first then everyone filed in except Woody, who stooped to pick up the wasted coffee. Putting a little more Shay into her sashay, she made sure to precede Ice, who came in last.
Ice caught hold of her wrist. “I appreciate the show, but we’re heading straight out of town.”
Shay groaned lightly. Had they been anywhere else but work, she would’ve suggested they connect in the backseat of the SUV.
“That’s disappointing,” she said, though she’d been more interested in a hard-body sandwich with Rosie than taking on the dark and dangerous stranger alone.
She waited for Woody to come in with the soggy remains of their coffee cups and closed the door behind her, while Ice sauntered away in Elodie’s direction.
“I can’t believe Elodie Fontaine is in our garage,” Woody said. “I wish she’d brought her wife though; she’s beautiful. I love a curvy woman.”
Shay nodded. “I think we all do.” She followed Woody into the back where they’d been storing the Brewster since the auction.
“You’re driving her all the way to LA?” Gabe asked.
“Yep.” Elodie ran her hand over the Brewster’s grill. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”
“No.” Shay opened the digital lock box on the wall to retrieve the Brewster’s keys.
“You’ll need to keep her at around three thousand rpm for the first five hundred miles, then you can increase to four thousand.
After a thousand miles, take her up slow and steady.
We’ve customized a V-8 engine to fit, and we’ve switched out the sliding mesh three-speed to a constant-mesh six-speed gearbox, so you won’t be lacking power.
” She handed the keys to Elodie. “A two-k mile drive is going to be a great way for you to get used to her.”
“Erm…” Woody cleared her throat.
Shay looked across at her. “Did I forget something?”
“God, no, of course not.” Woody held up one of the digital SLRs she kept at the garage to document their restorations. “It’d just be great to get a team photo of us handing Ms. Fontaine the keys.”
“Of course,” Elodie said. “Take whatever you need. Where do you want me?”
Anywhere and everywhere would be great. Shay suppressed a smirk and didn’t look at Gabe for fear of them both laughing like teenagers.
“What about Solo?” RB asked. “She won’t be happy she’s missing out.”
Shay checked her watch. “She’s normally here by now. The triplets must be acting up.”
“Now or never,” Ice said. “We can’t wait around.”
“I can add her in post-production,” Woody set up a tripod and directed the impromptu photo shoot until she was satisfied she’d gotten the moment suitably immortalized, while the bodyguards stayed mute and hovered in the background on high alert.
“Is it okay to ask what made you go straight in at $1.5 million?” Gabe asked.
“History.” Elodie opened the driver’s side door and slid into the leather seat.
Shay couldn’t help thinking that Elodie ran her hands over the steering wheel with the same reverence she probably used to touch her wife.