Freeing His Spitfire (Silver Spoon Heroes)
1. Lennox
Chapter 1
Lennox
The hot, muggy, morning air slaps me in the face as I pull on my bulletproof vest. It's another day, another dollar, heading into the lion's den here in Silver Spoon Falls. This place is like a goddamn postcard with its mansions sporting pristine lawns, and enough millionaires sipping lattes to make Wall Street look poor. Today, we’re here to take out the trash.
The task force is gathered in an inconspicuous old building undergoing renovations. As I step over, I'm reacquainted with a few of the usual suspects from previous takedowns. Brady Sinclair gives me that sly grin he's known for. Clean-cut, like a billboard for the Bureau, but there's a wild streak in him that could outmatch a rodeo bull.
"Ready for a fun day keeping law and order?" he whispers, eyes glinting like he’s ready to dive into a mosh pit.
"I live for this shit," I reply, letting out a low, gritty laugh. This isn't just work. It's raw, unfiltered, and full of the kind of rush those billionaires only wish they could buy.
"Hell, Crawford, you need to get a life," grumbles Preston Beaumont, overhearing our exchange. He’s as predictable as sunrise, always aiming straight but with a heart buried somewhere under those layers of cynicism.
Tension fills the room as Conrad Keller, the agent running the whole operation, calls for everyone’s attention. The guy has a reputation for being sharp as a tack and just as prickly.
Next to him stands Sheriff Dillon Armstrong. The serious lawman doesn’t take kindly to criminal enterprises attempting to move into this small Texas town. He usually shows up at most of these raids ready to take down the suspects.
“Alright, gentlemen,” Keller barks, voice cutting through the nearly empty building. “Here’s the deal.” He paces a little. “Oscar Cavani came to Silver Spoon Falls to open an investment firm in this small wealthy town. Too bad the only investments he’s selling are a nice pathway for the cartel to launder their dirty cash.”
Same story, new goddamn town. I can practically feel my blood pressure spike. I lean against a wall, arms crossed, taking it all in. I read over the report on Cavani last night. It seems the slick bastard could charm a rattlesnake out of its skin. “Weasely little fuck,” I mutter under my breath.
“Exactly,” Keller snaps, his eyes locking onto mine with that "I know you get it" look. “We need to bring him down hard. Today’s the day we storm the place and expose this bullshit for what it is. We’ve got the goods to make it stick.”
“Let’s not mess around then,” I say, feeling the typical anticipation mixed with adrenaline that comes with this line of work. “Let’s take this piece of trash down so I can make my afternoon tee time.”
“Your golf plans are high on my list of worries.” Keller rolls his eyes. “Surveillance reports give us a window of where the big players will be meeting. We hit hard and fast. You all know the drill. ”
Cavani’s been playing poker with people’s lives, and I’m about to flip the table and scatter the cards. There’s nothing more satisfying than bringing down a house of cards built on greed and corruption.
“Let’s get this shit done,” I growl, and several agents nod, their eyes lighting up with the fire of readying for war.
The lobby of this investment firm screams excessive like some rich bastard took the idea of elegance and shoved a diamond-encrusted fist right up its ass. Marble floors gleam with an uninviting slickness. Goddamn, there’s nothing warm about this place. It’s a fortress built to hide the dirt, and we’re here to shake it loose.
We storm in like a pack of wild dogs, instincts primed on the hunt. I bark at the receptionist to move her ass away from the desk. We don’t need her blabbing a warning to the bastards up top. She pales, and her eyes widen as she steps back. Stone Hines hangs back in the lobby to make sure she doesn’t give a warning to her boss while the rest of us pile into the elevator.
The doors slide shut, trapping us in the silver mirror box, and I'm fidgeting like a caged animal. When the elevator dings at the seventh floor, I’m ready to unleash hell until I step out and see her.
Holy hell. A stunning brunette sits behind the desk, poised and too damn beautiful to be caught up in this shit. She’s got curves that could launch a thousand ships, and those big brown eyes cause my cock to wake the fuck up. It’s like she’s been waiting for me, and in that moment, nothing else matters, not even the criminals lurking nearby.
Her expression shifts from surprise to something else entirely, panic creeping in when she spots the five huge men stepping off the elevator. A pout forms on her lips, and just when I think it's game on, Preston mutters under his breath, “I’ll stay with this one,” as he moves toward her.
That’s where he crosses the line. No way in hell is he getting close to her while I’m off arresting the criminals. “No,” I say, my voice steady and low, like gravel scraping against metal. I step forward, planting myself between her and the other agents, feeling a growl ripple through my chest. “She’s mine. Let me get her out of the way before you engage.”
The atmosphere thickens, an electric pulse buzzing around us. I can see her surprise morph into something akin to curiosity, those wide eyes studying me. She doesn’t look scared, and that fires me up even more. In a place like this, beauty is an anomaly, but every instinct tells me she isn’t involved in her boss’s schemes.
I don’t know what it is about her that has me ready to throw down just to keep her safe, but it’s primal, raw. The job’s not done, I know that, but right now, all I want to do is ensure she’s not collateral damage in this war. The criminals can wait. Right now, I have a gorgeous angel to protect.
The moment I step closer to that desk, it’s like the world falls away. I’ve seen countless faces in my line of work, but this gorgeous brunette just stole my goddamn heart with a single look. She sits there, defiance radiating off her like heat from a wildfire on a summer day in Texas, and I can’t help but want to find out more about her. Hell, I’d tear down the walls around this place if it meant keeping her safe.
But I don’t have time for the butterflies flapping around in my stomach. “You need to come with me,” I say, my voice low and commanding, but it falls on deaf ears. She narrows those stunning eyes, arms crossing over her voluptuous chest, and all I can think is that her defiance is beautiful.
“No,” she snaps, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. The universe just loves to fuck with me. Goddamn. Put a leash on me and call me hers. “I don’t know you from Adam. You’re out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m going anywhere with you.”
We've got a crime boss to take down. The rest of the agents are waiting for my signal to storm Oscar’s office down the hall, and I don't have time to debate the merits of her opinion. Keller glances over, giving me a warning look, and I know I have to act now .
With no thought of subtlety, I rush around the desk and hoist her over my shoulder. She lets out a surprised squeal that sends a rush of adrenaline coursing through me. The primal instinct to protect her at all costs kicks in. I know it’s not exactly romantic, and I feel like an asshole when she kicks and thrashes, fists pounding against my back.
“Put me down!” she demands, but it’s not happening on my watch.
“Not a chance,” I growl back, already striding toward the elevator as the four other agents stand ready to take down our target.
In the midst of her struggles, she reminds me, “You have to grab my purse. It’s in the right desk drawer! Please.”
For a second, I hesitate, figuring she can get her goddamn purse later. Then she adds, “I have evidence against Oscar on a memory stick in my purse.” Her urgent tone tells me there’s no arguing with her, even if it sends me deeper into chaos. I bolt back to her desk, yank open the drawer, and toss her purse strap over my other shoulder.
Preston holds the elevator door for us with a huge smirk on his face. “That purse really goes with your outfit.” He snorts as I storm past him.
“Fuck off.” I flip him off as I rush inside with her still slung over my shoulder. She’s relentless, still squirming and pounding against me, but I hold on to my precious cargo.
”You’re strong-arming me!” she protests, flailing her arms around.
“I’m saving your life," I shoot back, deadpan, our little back-and-forth a twisted kind of dance in the chaos. The elevator pings as the door shuts, and I’m finally able to release the breath I’ve been holding since the moment I laid eyes on her.
She huffs in frustration, but I can see the fight starting to fade. “You can’t just manhandle me!”
With that, I step out of the elevator, determination set in my jaw. “I'm not taking risks with you, sweetheart, not when your safety is on the line. You can thank me later.”
“Don’t hold your breath, Barney.” She struggles a little bit, rubbing her plump tits against my upper back, and I feel my cock turn to stone in my goddamn pants. Just what I need.
When we’re finally outside the building, I find Stone standing next to a cop car with the terrified receptionist sitting in the back seat. As much as I hate to leave my spitfire with anyone else, I know I have a job to do. I can’t exactly woo my girl until we take out the trash .
I set her on her feet next to him. “Don’t let her leave and don’t lay a goddamn hand on her.” His eyes widen slightly as he gives me a chin lift, and I hand her purse over to him. “She said there’s evidence in there.”
“I thought the purse was yours.” He smirks and places the purse in an evidence bag. “It matches your outfit perfectly.” I just love working with a whole fucking team of comedians.