Chapter 19
Hadley would admit she was a little off her game.
She’d tried to strike up a conversation with Cole that morning about everything that had happened the night before (particularly the shared orgasm), and he’d so studiously ignored her that she was starting to wonder if she’d dreamed the entire thing.
So, she was annoyed. And frustrated. Which didn’t put her in the best frame of mind to evaluate anything, least of all a top-secret, off-the-books government operation.
But if any of the people at this barbecue were sleeper agents, Hadley would eat her shoe. And she really liked her Brooks running shoes, so that was saying something.
Hadley hadn’t grown up in the suburbs. She’d lived in a huge apartment building with her dad in a metropolitan area where the neighbors did their best to pretend no one else existed. Headphones on, head down, no contact unless absolutely necessary was a way of life.
So, this place where neighbors congregated over platters of charred animal flesh and passive aggressively argued over who had the best lawn, biggest boat, and most technologically advanced kitchen made Hadley feel like an alien who’d just been stranded on earth and forced to learn the local customs. And not in a fun, I’ve-been-kidnapped-by-hot-aliens-with-huge-dicks-who-want-to-mate-with-me-oh-whatever-will-I-do, sci-fi romance kind of way.
They’d already met a stuffy investment banker and his wife who ran an MLM selling home Pilates equipment, a couple of wine snobs who brought three varieties of rosé to a freakin’ barbecue, the pair who had color-coordinated outfits with their toddlers, the overly fit foodies who showed up in athletic wear and talked incessantly about macros and drank gross-looking kombucha coolers, and a DIY duo who used every opportunity to talk about their recent kitchen reno.
It was all exhausting, frankly. Especially since she didn’t ever want to do Pilates, hated wine, thought people who made their entire personalities about their kids were gross, ate whatever the hell she wanted because counting macros sucked ass, and truly couldn’t care any less than she already did about laminate versus natural stone countertops.
Hadley leaned into Cole, who was standing beside her, every muscle rigid and braced for battle, clutching the beer that’d been pressed into his hand when he arrived like a lifeline. “Do the vibes here feel off to you?”
“I’ve been in war zones that felt friendlier,” Cole answered without hesitation.
“Right? It’s like…”
“A competition.”
“Yes! That’s it. It’s like everyone here is sizing us up to see if we’re better than them at anything.”
Well, almost everyone. The DIY wife was busy eyeing Cole like he was the last doughnut in the box. Hadley couldn’t hold back a sour glare. What kind of woman sits next to her husband and makes fuck-me eyes at another woman’s husband? Not a girl’s girl, that much was for damn sure.
“Guess this is what bored rich people with no real problems do all day,” Cole muttered.
At least Mitzy and Mike seemed fairly genuine. Mike was just concerned with manning the grill, and Mitzy was too busy making sure everyone had a fresh drink and a bacon-wrapped piece of shrimp on their little red disposable plates to be judging anyone else.
She sighed. “I guess we have to keep talking to these assholes.”
Cole frowned down at her. “Why?”
“Because of the mission?”
He snorted. “None of these jackasses are sleeper agents.”
Interesting. Her feelings about this crowd had been on target. Maybe she wasn’t a shitty super spy, after all. “How can you tell?”
“I just can.”
Which was kind of too bad. Because if it was up to her, she’d serve all these ass clowns up to Franklin on a silver platter. They deserved it based on sheer douchebaggery.
Cole added, “This is good. We can rule them all out as suspects and focus our surveillance on who isn’t here. We might even…”
Hadley glanced up at him when he trailed off, then followed his narrowed gaze to a couple who’d just stepped out of Mitzy and Mike’s sliding glass door onto the porch.
Her eyes went to the woman first. Mostly because she was stunningly beautiful with a mass of glossy black curls trailing down her back, delicate bone structure, and an adorable little blue sundress that was making Hadley question the casual walking shorts and tank top she’d chosen for this occasion.
The woman’s blinding white sneakers caught her attention, too. Hadley never wore white anything. She was far too vigorous of an eater for that. Way too much flying and falling food to keep her whites their whitest, so she didn’t bother trying.
Then she shifted her gaze over to the man the pristinely beautiful woman was leaning into and…wow. That was a stunning dude.
The guy was super tall. Probably only an inch shorter than Cole, who made Hadley feel child sized.
Athletic looking, muscly, thick blond hair with a natural wave to it, jaw and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass, eyes so blue Hadley wondered if he was wearing colored contacts…
yep, the guy was hot. He wasn’t dressed like he was about to set foot on a yacht, either.
Simple black T-shirt, jeans, and work boots.
Hadley liked that. She was sick of looking at all the damn boat shoes and polo shirts milling around this barbecue.
“That’s him.”
Hadley frowned, giving the guy another quick once over. “Really? How can you be sure?”
“I’m sure,” Cole said, muscle in his jaw jumping.
Now that he mentioned it, this guy did have the same kind of tense, ready-for-anything stance that Cole had, and he looked just about as pleased to be there as Cole was.
And his build certainly matched that of the black-clad, masked man they’d watched search their home on the camera footage Cole had pulled up that morning.
Meanwhile, his wife looked joyfully oblivious.
Did she know her husband was a sleeper agent?
That’d really suck if he was using her as a way to fit into the neighborhood and she had no idea.
Hell, it was getting hard for Hadley to admit her “marriage” to Cole wasn’t real, and she was 100% in the loop.
Being the victim of an elaborate ruse would be devastating.
Then the guy tore his tense gaze off Cole and looked down into his wife’s upturned face when she grabbed his hand. Even at a distance, Hadley could read the naked devotion in his eyes.
“He loves her,” she murmured. “That’s not a fake marriage.”
“How can you be sure?” Cole asked.
Because she’d seen every romantic movie in the history of ever and this was the look the hero always gave the heroine. “I just am,” she said dryly. “What do you think? Should we go say hi and pretend this guy didn’t watch us dry hump each other last night?”
Although, since they’d both ended up wet and sticky when they were done, could it really be called a dry hump?
Which was so not relevant at the moment.
Cole winced. “I really wish you hadn’t brought that up.”
“Why?”
He made a quick sweeping gesture toward the front of his jeans, where she noticed his bulge was bigger than it’d been a moment ago. “Oh, wow,” she whispered reverently.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Wow.”
She was about ready to ask if they should forget the mission, go back home, and get naked in a hurry so she could help him out with that problem when, like a champ, he straightened his shoulders, tipped his head from one side to the other to give his neck a good stretch, and nodded. “Let’s do it.”
If only he meant what that had sounded like in her head. She sighed. “Yep. Show time.”
It was fabulous, even. They were one day closer to being done with their mission, one way or the other.
The thought should’ve made her happy. Logically, she knew that.
So why wasn’t she happy?