11. Strike
Strike
Millie’s smile was as false as his aura of calm. He wanted to call her out and demand she share her thoughts, but he lost his rights to the wonders of her mind years ago.
Each member of his team hugged Liss before sitting.
“This is Luke, our tech guy,” Strike said, pointing at the team member who was younger and slighter than the others. Luke waved as he sat at the table. Bear popped two different types of eggs in front of him.
“He’s building bulk. He used to be a hacker who hid in dark rooms, but Bear’s training him to box,” Liss explained as Millie’s brown furrowed.
“That’s how Strike and Bear met,” she uttered.
“But Strike gave up because he’s weak and turned to rugby instead,” Bear teased.
Strike tipped his head and smirked. “I can beat your ass. Just name the day.”
Luke whispered to Liss, “What’s gotten into him? He’s smiling and joking.” Strike glared at Luke. “Never mind.”
“Do you still play rugby?” Millie enquired, her eyes bright with wonder. “You were brilliant at it. No one ran the field like you.”
He pulled on the back of his neck as his cheeks warmed.
Luke’s jaw dropped as he gawked. Strike batted the techie’s interest away with a scowl before returning to stare at a woman whose beauty made him rasp as he explained, “I played a little in the army. They have leagues, and sometimes you can play against the Air Force and Navy. They were all scared of tackling me.”
“Because you’re so big,” Millie replied.
Liss giggled.
“Liss, are you trying to wind me up?” Strike grumbled.
“Strike, are you trying to pretend you’re not blushing?” Liss hit back.
Millie hid her grin behind her mug of coffee, but Strike raised his eyebrow at her.
“You’re acting weird, Strike,” Bear said while grabbing a fresh batch of crumpets from the toaster. “I can’t imagine why.”
“Introductions then,” Strike growled, wringing his hands. Bear tipped his head like he’d proved his point, and Strike’s gaze flitted toward Millie. He swallowed slowly as she stared at him with wide eyes and fluttering lashes. “The quiet one over there with the beard is Stal.”
“Morning.” Stal nodded. Strike glanced warily in his direction. There were dark rings around his eyes, and his lips were cracked. His shoulders were tight as he grabbed food and wolfed it.
“Stal spent his first ten years in Ireland on a horse farm and then moved to England with his family,” Liss said. “We call him cowboy to annoy him.”
Stal continued eating like none of this was happening around him.
“The grinning one playing with the dogs is Nails,” Strike said.
Millie turned to Liss. Strike rolled his eyes. “Aren’t my introductions good enough?”
“Liss is like me. She gives the information that matters. You barely give the headlines.”
Liss smiled smugly at Strike as she flicked her hair, making Millie laugh. He didn’t mind attitude from Liss if Millie’s laughter accompanied it. “Nails is my cousin’s brother-in-law or something like that. His sister is Lady Beatrice. Her husband’s next in line to the throne.”
“Hey, Millie. Nice to meet you,” Nails said as he shook her hand.
His green eyes twinkled under the sunlight beaming through the windows.
Strike normally didn’t care that Nails was the handsome, charming member of the team, with his tucked-in shirt and polished boots.
“You can call me Cameron or Cam if you prefer.”
Millie’s cheeks pinked as she smiled.
“When you’ve finished, Nails,” Strike said between gritted teeth, “you’re sitting over there.”
Everyone but Strike chuckled as Cam winked at Millie before walking to a seat far away from her.
“Why do you all have such… interesting names?” Millie asked, occasionally glancing at Strike.
“You can say it. They’re weird,” Liss replied as the guys decimated the spread Bear had prepared.
Stal was already through most of his plate. He checked his watch while biting his lips. Stress poured off him, but without anyone else commenting, Strike second-guessed himself. Strike scratched his chin while glancing at Millie, who studied Stal with a wrinkled brow.
Bear hmphed. “They’re not that weird.”
Liss stared pointedly at him before returning to explain to Millie, “Stal, Nails, and Strike were in the SAS together, although they don’t talk about it.
” Strike grunted. “They say Nails got his name because he’s hard as nails, but I’m not convinced.
” Cam chuckled. “And Stal because of horses, although we joke it’s because he’s got a dick like a stallion’s. ”
Millie choked, gulping water to clear it.
Liss steepled her fingers over her plate. “Bear’s nickname is related to something sweet, although he won’t tell you what. I had to have sex with him in the back room of a boxing match to learn it.”
“Secret sex,” Bear grumbled.
“Liss, where have you been all my life? I’ve always wanted a friend like you.” Millie covered her face with her hand. “Shit. I sounded like I was about five years old, didn’t I?”
Liss giggled. “Maybe we can braid each other’s hair and make cupcakes later,” she teased. “I need more female friends. These men are like teenagers. Some nights, they box while I’m trying to watch romcoms. Maybe you can help me convince them to do it naked.”
“Fucking hell,” Strike and Bear said.
Strike had seen Millie’s book choices. She liked the odd “why choose” romance. He didn’t want any other man to feature in her fantasies. Those weren’t the books he wanted to act out with her.
Blood rushed down his body as he remembered one of the books on her social media where the soldier guided his woman through her orgasm while she bathed, revelling in how she writhed in the water.
Strike’s need to control everything was evident in how he managed the business and his daily life, but he didn’t know if that was the same in sex.
He fantasised about it, though, and the chapters where the man dominated his partner—tying her up, denying her orgasms, and being in charge of her pleasure—were the chapters that always made him come hardest.
Especially when he imagined acting them out with Millie.
“Luke hasn’t got a nickname yet, but we’re working on it,” Liss added.
“And Strike? He was always Caleb to me,” Millie said with a hint of wistfulness.
He puffed his chest at the minor win.
“But that was a long time ago. We’ve all changed since then,” she added, and his mood slammed back to the floor.
“That’s enough introductions. Millie is a client we’re taking on pro bono,” Strike continued.
Strike updated the group about the situation. Millie watched him as the group listened and nodded their understanding. His natural authority worked well with his team. He wasn’t the same goofy friend who made Millie playlists or acted out his favourite comedy scenes.
“We’ll stay here for one night, no more, and then we get out of the area and bed down somewhere they won’t search for Millie. I’ve got ideas, but anyone else?”
“You could use my house in a little Cornish town. I own it under a fake company without links to me. They wouldn’t find you there. You can hide out for weeks and pretend to be tourists,” Stal said.
Millie stared at him. With her head tilted and brow furrowed, she ran her finger across her lips.
Strike sucked his cheeks hard and bit their insides.
Weeks of forced proximity with Millie would fuck with his head, but the need to protect her was branded across his chest. He must rectify how he’d hurt her in the past by making her safe now.
“Strike,” Stal pushed. “The house.”
Strike flexed his forearms as he desperately tried to dismiss the distraction that threaded through every second in Millie’s presence. “Yes, that’s a great idea. We’ll do that. Thanks. Luke, I’ve got Millie’s phone for you. Get whatever you can off it.”
“Just videos from that night,” Millie squeaked. Strike’s neck pulsed. “There’s client information on there.” Millie’s gaze flitted to him before returning to Luke. “Please speak with me about whatever you find first,” she begged.
Luke nodded, although he side-eyed Strike, waiting for further instruction. He had to respect her and let her have her secrets, though the obsessive in him wanted to know what made her chest rise with rapid breaths.
“I’ll make sure it’s okay. Your secrets are safe,” Liss said, earning Millie’s grateful smile.
“I’ll speak to the police today. I have a connection there,” Strike added.
“Casey?” Cam asked.
“Is that another one of your squadron?” Millie asked.
“No,” Stal said with a laugh. “But we’ve all placed bets on what manoeuvres she and Strike have—”
Strike’s souring stare cut Stal off. “She’s an old friend.” He glanced at Millie. “She was in your year at school, Millie. Casey Harrison.”
Her gasp sent her rearing back. “The person who bullied me relentlessly? I can’t believe you’ve slept with the woman who ostracised and humiliated me.”
Strike put his cutlery down slowly, giving himself time to respond. He hadn’t slept with anyone since Millie, but he wasn’t announcing that.
“Casey isn’t a bully now. She’s a friend. I met her again at the gym, and she’s nice. She’s also a detective. She might be able to help, and I trust her.”
He twisted the tool balanced on his lap as Millie stood, grabbing her plate and a couple of other bits.
“Tell your friend she owes me a couple of hundred quid for the therapy I needed because of her gang, and a sorry for the wristband she stole from me after you deserted me. Thank you for a lovely breakfast, Bear. I’ll wash up. ”
Silence descended as she walked out of the conservatory.
Everyone stared at him as his head dropped.
This was never going to be okay.