Chapter 4 #2
Cora opened her mouth, but the waitress returned at that moment. “Here we go,” she said perkily. Cora was forced to let go of Pipe, and she sat back as the plates were put down on the table. “Can I get you two anything else?”
“No, thank you,” Cora said.
“We’re good,” Pipe agreed.
“All right. Enjoy, and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know.”
Cora studied the food in front of her, but she’d completely lost her appetite.
“Eat,” Pipe said in a low, growly voice.
She looked up at him.
He nodded to her plate. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“Actually, it might make me puke,” she grumbled.
Pipe’s lips twitched. “When was the last time you ate something?”
She tried to remember if she’d had lunch that day, and realized she’d been so nervous and worked up about the auction, she hadn’t. “Breakfast?” she said, the word coming out more as a question than a true answer.
“You need some calories,” Pipe said in a gentler voice.
“It feels wrong to eat when I can’t help but wonder if Lara’s okay. If she’s getting food.”
Pipe tensed. “Look at me,” he said in a tone Cora hadn’t heard before. It was harder, more commanding. She couldn’t help but lift her gaze to his.
“Would Lara want you to starve yourself just because she wasn’t getting enough to eat? Would she really want you to suffer along with her?”
“No,” Cora whispered.
“Right. Eat, Cora. We’ll talk after. And if I can help your friend, I will.”
Her eyes widened. “You will?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“Yes.”
“But you don’t know the situation. I mean, I might be wrong. She could be perfectly fine.”
Pipe stared at her for so long, Cora squirmed in her seat. “You aren’t wrong,” he finally said.
Her eyes closed as she struggled to process what was happening. No one had believed her. Not the cops, not Lara’s family, not their co-workers. They all told her she was jealous, or overreacting, or just plain wrong. But she knew better.
The extremely short email Lara had sent to Human Resources with her request for a leave of absence was shady as hell, but no one other than her seemed to even think twice about it. Lara wouldn’t just up and leave without talking to her first. Cora knew that without a doubt.
And this man, this stranger, believed her without even really hearing what had happened.
“Eat,” Pipe said again, a little gentler.
Cora’s eyes opened and she looked down at the turkey club sandwich she’d ordered. Suddenly, she was ravenous. She reached for the ketchup bottle on the table and smothered her sandwich in the stuff. She also poured it all over her French fries.
Looking up, she caught Pipe smiling at her. The change it made in his countenance was astounding. It was like a completely different man was sitting across from her.
“I take it you like ketchup,” he drawled.
“I don’t like it, I love it,” she told him. “It makes everything taste better. When I was little and forced to eat food I didn’t like, putting ketchup on it made it palatable. When I was on my own, and short on cash, I could put this stuff on just about anything and it somehow made me feel fuller.”
He frowned at that, but Cora simply smiled. “It’s okay, Pipe. Really. I survived. A lot of people have been way worse off than me. And ketchup is honestly the world’s perfect condiment.”
He didn’t look so sure, but picked up the hamburger he’d ordered, one without any sauce or condiment on it whatsoever—heathen—and took a large bite.
They ate in companionable silence. When she was nearly finished with her meal, Cora felt herself smiling. “What do you think they would’ve served at that fancy restaurant? I mean, if I’d won and we were there now?”
In response, Pipe put down his hamburger and reached for his phone.
Cora frowned in confusion. He typed for a moment before his lips quirked upward.
“According to their website, ‘carpaccio of herb-crusted elysian fields baby lamb loin with Caesar salad ice cream, or pecan-crusted, mushroom-stuffed loin roulade with mustard and drunken prunes.’”
Cora couldn’t stop her nose from wrinkling. “Do you know what any of that is?”
“Nope,” Pipe said breezily.
“What the hell is Caesar salad ice cream? And drunk or not, prunes are not my idea of a good meal.”
This time, he chuckled. “Agreed.” He put his phone back in his pocket. “I’m much happier with my burger, and I don’t think putting ketchup on the prunes would help them sober up any.”
Cora giggled. As soon as the sound left her mouth, she felt guilty. Here she was having a wonderful time, eating a great sandwich, when she had no idea what Lara was going through.
“Don’t,” Pipe said, his brows drawing down.
“I can’t help it. I’m so worried about her.”
Pipe pushed his plate to the side and reached for her hand. Cora let him take it. His thumb brushed over the skin on the back as he spoke.
“I don’t know your friend, but to have inspired such loyalty in you, I know she has to be an amazing person. And she’s tougher than you’re giving her credit for.”
“You don’t know her. She’s…not like me,” Cora finished somewhat lamely.
“I’m not afraid to say what I’m thinking.
She’s nice. Sweet. I told you before that she didn’t date in high school, but even after that, she didn’t go out much, despite wanting desperately to find her Prince Charming.
She always sees the best in people, and they frequently take advantage of her.
She doesn’t like to rock the boat, in a relationship or in her professional life.
I think that’s how Ridge hooked her. He pretended to be a gentleman.
But he’s not. I mean, from what I’ve seen, that is. ”
Pipe stared at her for a long moment before reaching for his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and threw a couple of twenty-dollar bills on the table. Then, without a word, he stood and reached for Cora’s elbow.
She was too surprised to resist when he pulled her to her feet. He grabbed her bag and put it over his shoulder. With his hand still under her elbow, he walked to the door. When they were on the sidewalk, he turned right, back the way they came.
“Pipe?” Cora asked. “Where are we going? The Metro is the other way.”
“My hotel,” he said shortly.
Cora stopped in her tracks, surprising Pipe enough that his hand slipped from her arm. “I already told you that I’m not sleeping with you,” she growled. Disappointment swam in her belly. Had she really been so wrong about this man?
Pipe ran a hand through his hair, mussing it further. “I’m not good at this stuff, Cora.”
“What stuff?” she asked, confused.
“Planning. Figuring shite out. I’m the muscle. I’m sent in to do the dirty work. My mates are better at the pre-mission details. I don’t know what you’re going to tell me about your friend, but my instincts tell me that it would be better if Owl was there…the guy who came to DC with me.”
Cora nodded. “Callen Kaufman. Former Night Stalker Army helicopter pilot. He was shot down in the Middle East with his copilot, Jack ‘Stone’ Wickett—who also co-owns The Refuge with you and your other friends. They were held for a couple of weeks while the terrorists tortured them and filmed it all.”
Pipe blinked. Then smirked. “Stalker,” he joked.
Cora couldn’t help returning his smile, but it quickly faded. “I needed to know if you guys could really help me find and rescue Lara.”
The humor fell from Pipe’s face. “If you truly believe she needs to be rescued from wherever she is, and our skills are needed, trust me, you want Owl to hear your story. He doesn’t have as much experience as the rest of us with boots on the ground, but he’s smart. It’ll help to have his input.”
Every instinct was screaming that Cora could trust the man in front of her. He’d been nothing but gentlemanly and courteous. He didn’t have to walk her home. Didn’t have to buy her dinner. But here he was. Though…she didn’t believe for an instant that Pipe couldn’t plan a rescue mission by himself.
“Okay,” she said after a long pause. This had been her goal from the moment she’d realized one of the owners from The Refuge would be at the auction.
She’d wanted a chance to talk to one of them, to plead her case.
To explain what was happening to two of The Refuge owners was more than she ever dreamed she’d get.
They continued to walk, stopping at a hotel just down the street from where the auction had been held. It wasn’t fancy. A chain hotel Cora herself sometimes stayed at when she traveled, which wasn’t often.
Pipe opened the door and he led her up an escalator to the deserted restaurant on the second floor, toward a table in the back. He sat, gesturing for her to do the same.
“Um, are we supposed to be here?” Cora asked nervously, looking around at the empty tables and the semi-dark room.
“It’s fine,” Pipe assured her. “Not going to take you to my room, that would be disrespectful,” he said as he typed out a text on his phone.
Cora stared in surprise as his concentration remained on the screen in front of him.
Many men wouldn’t have thought twice about taking her to their room, even if they weren’t planning on making a move on her.
In her experience, guys were largely clueless to the things women went through to stay safe.
It wasn’t that they were unsympathetic; they just had no reason to worry about walking across an isolated parking lot, getting in an elevator with a man, walking up an empty stairwell, being anywhere alone in the middle of the night, getting gas, and a million other everyday scenarios.
But she probably shouldn’t have underestimated Pipe. He wasn’t like most men, which was precisely why she’d wanted his help.
“Owl’s on his way,” he told her.
“I’m still not sure why you think he needs to be here.”
“I told you, I’m not a good planner.”
“I don’t believe that for a second,” Cora said firmly. “You wouldn’t have been in the SAS if you sucked at that kind of thing.”