Chapter 11
The government moved at a glacial pace on almost everything. Red tape took years to slice through. But for off-the-books missions?
Hammer down, full throttle ahead.
After Hadley said she’d participate in the mission willingly and Cole stopped threatening to kill him, Franklin suddenly became all kinds of agreeable.
He didn’t argue when Cole said he would not be reporting to Franklin unless there was something to report (because he didn’t think he could stand seeing that fucker’s face for regular check-ins), or when he said he’d personally set up video surveillance inside the safe house they’d be moving into rather than letting Franklin install any of his own (because the thought of that fucker watching Hadley over the cameras made Cole want to punch a wall).
Securing and setting up said safe house in their target’s neighborhood would only take a day and a half. Hadley and Cole would stay in a hotel until it was ready and spend some time memorizing their cover stories and getting acquainted with their new false identities.
But Cole had refused to go anywhere until Hadley had been checked out by a doctor. After much grumbling, Franklin had called in a friend of his and Hadley had been pronounced healthy enough to start their mission.
Physically, anyway.
Cole had no idea how the events of the evening would impact her emotional state in the coming days, weeks, and years. Trauma could pop up and smack you across the face at any time. So could shock. He had way more experience with that than he’d like.
But for now, outwardly, anyway, she seemed…fine. Excited, almost.
What a mystery his neighbor was turning out to be. A sweet, sexy, weird little mystery that he needed to remind himself (hourly) not to unwrap.
He’d had contact with her for less than two days and he’d already killed two men in front of her and dragged her into an off-books government operation to root out a foreign asset. The only thing that could make everything worse would be getting involved with her romantically.
Now that could destroy her in epic fashion.
He had a couple of ex-girlfriends who’d probably be thrilled to testify to the fact that he was a lousy, emotionally constipated partner. One had even called him a robot. After that, he figured he was better off alone. No chance of anyone getting hurt that way.
And he didn’t know much about Hadley, but from what he’d seen so far, she deserved a good partner. Someone who could appreciate every intricate layer of her beautiful weirdness.
Cole shook off the way his stomach flipped at the thought of some future partner being with Hadley instead of him. He refused—refused, damn it!—to consider the implications of that feeling, because surely, it didn’t stem from anything productive.
He especially didn’t need to be thinking (and feeling) this shit while he was leaning against Hadley’s bedroom doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, watching her pack a giant suitcase, while a team of cleaners wiped all traces of the murders from her foyer.
“So, how much stuff should I pack?”
It took an inordinate amount of self-control to not look at her ass when she bent over her bed to grab a handful of panties (lacy, sexy ones, damn it) from the basket of clean laundry she’d overturned and jam it into the yawning suitcase. “Enough for a couple weeks, at least.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You think it’ll take that long?”
Not if he could help it. “Just trying to be prepared.”
She nodded and went back to stuffing clothes into her luggage. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m my own boss and don’t need to beg for time off to do…spy stuff.”
He couldn’t help but smile. Spy stuff. Jesus, she was cute. “What do you do?”
“I’m a graphic designer. Websites, mostly. Wedding and baby shower websites are my specialty.” She shrugged. “Nothing exciting.”
“Nothing exciting sounds pretty good right about now,” he said dryly.
She snorted. “Maybe I’ve taken boredom for granted.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to get you back to your regular routine as quickly as possible, Hadley. You have my word.”
Hadley straightened and turned to face him fully. “I trust you.”
There was an openness in her expression that hit him like a punch to the gut. He didn’t deserve her trust. He wasn’t a good person. Never had been. But having her look at him like that, like he deserved her interest, her adoration, her respect, was a heady, dangerous thing.
The kind of thing he could very quickly become addicted to.
Yep. The sooner they got out of this mission, the better. Otherwise, he’d screw up and do something really stupid.
Like fall in love.
Did obsession count as falling first?
Hadley needed to give that some thought, because while she still firmly believed in her Thou Shalt Not Fall For a Man Before He Falls For You commandment, she was still a little obsessed with Cole.
And honestly, who could blame her? The man had saved her life and literally killed for her.
Under similar circumstances, anyone would feel the same, right?
Give it up. He’s visibly uncomfortable breathing the same air as you. He is not your future husband.
Sometimes Hadley hated her inner bitch who was always there to remind her she was thirty-four and would never again follow any man around like a loyal little puppy, filled to the brim with unrequited love. She was strong and successful, and she only wanted men who would chase her, damn it.
Then he shoved a hand through his hair, his biceps flexing in a way that made her bite her lip to contain a dreamy sigh and she lost her train of thought. Wait…why wasn’t she supposed to be obsessed with this man? It was all a little foggy…
Oh, yeah, because if she didn’t get her hormones under control, this whole thing was going to end with Cole moving away and getting a restraining order to escape her.
Still, though, she was surprisingly excited by the idea of pretending to be Cole’s wife, spending weeks with him in forced proximity, doing spy stuff.
She was sure the shock of everything that’d happened would catch up to her when the adrenaline wore off.
But for now? She was looking forward to a change of scenery and a little quality time with her brutally hot, Jason Bourne-like neighbor.
She cleared her throat. “Um, I can’t remember if I thanked you earlier. So, thank you. I owe you…everything.”
His gaze dropped almost imperceptibly to her mouth for a second. Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed it. It was that subtle. But she was really paying attention, so she clocked it right away. “You don’t owe me. If anything, I owe you for getting you sucked into this fuck-ass mission.”
Humble and gorgeous. He really was just an embarrassment of riches. “Well, how about we wait until after we make it out of this mess alive to fight about who owes who more?”
He let out a low chuckle that reached right into her panties and gave her clit a good, firm flick. It was the closest she’d had to good sex in a long time. “Deal.”