Covertly Strong (The Strong Series Book 1) (19 page)

WHAT IN THE HELL JUST happened?

Sloan quickly makes her way into her apartment, slamming the door shut. The frame rattles from the harsh movement. Her body leans against the closed door. The feel of the cool wood spurs goose bumps on the exposed skin of her back. Her head falls back against the hard surface with a thud. She’s mentally berating herself for the entire evening.
What was I thinking?

Drinks—lots of drinks—with
him
.

Dancing with him.

Riding home in a cab with him.

Now he knows where she lives in San Diego, and not only does he have her address, he has her phone number. Obviously, it’s the number to her iPhone and not her CIA-issued Blackberry.

She’s just asking for trouble.

Trouble that begins and ends with a certain Navy SEAL with eyes as blue as the sea and a smile that makes her legs tremble and her core ache in a deliciously painful way. She must have left her sanity at home tonight. That’s the only logical explanation.
Nixon West is the reason
.

She sighs heavily at the realization that a man who hasn’t been in her life for over a decade can have her acting irrational and reckless after just a few hours in his presence. Sloan shakes her head and runs frustrated hands through her hair. She’s worked so hard to establish herself as one of the best CIA agents in the Clandestine Affairs Division, and she seems all too willing to throw everything out the window after one night with
him
.

No one
else has ever gotten to her like this.

How can he still hold this much power over her?

Her iPhone beeps with a text message notification. Her heart races at the mere thought of Nix having her number. She pulls it out of her black clutch and sees that it’s from Agent Matthews. Her stomach foolishly drops from disappointment.

Frank: Home?

Felicia: Just got in.

Every aspect of her life is a façade. Even her text messages are coded.

She takes a deep breath as her body slowly slides to the floor. She stares blankly at the ceiling, trying to understand how everything she thought she knew could change in a single night. She can’t help the anger that overcomes her as she thinks about the way things ended with Nix.

If only he would have contacted her. If only he wouldn’t have given up…

It has taken years for her to get to a place where she was convinced that she was over it. And now, all of a sudden, he’s back in her life and had the audacity to approach and convince her to spend the evening with him and his buddies.
And that dance! Oh my god!

His hands were all over her—seducing, caressing, and leaving her almost too willing. She was so close to crashing her lips to his in the middle of that bar and kissing him ravenously.

Her rational brain is screaming for to keep her distance from Nix. She’s just praying that the irrational, wild, reckless side of her will keep its cool and not allow her to take part in any more nights like tonight. Fingers, toes, and any other flexible body part crossed that she can stick with this plan of action.

SLOAN WAKES UP WITH THE San Diego sun shining in through the large window that highlights her bedroom. Her eyes squint in defiance and the relentless pounding in her skull resonates tenfold.
Taking shots was a terrible idea last night.
Her mouth is dry and scratchy and might as well be filled with cotton balls. She licks her parched, chapped lips as she endeavors to get her ass out of bed.

The floorboards creak loudly in the stillness of the living room as she walks into the kitchen.

Coffee is her first order of business.

She hasn’t felt the remnants of last night’s alcohol since she was a sophomore in college. That was before she started her internship with the CIA. It was a time in her life that didn’t necessarily revolve around partying, but she definitely took part in some good old-fashioned, college-style debauchery. That was a time in her life where she still went out, had friends, and socialized.

She still can’t believe how she threw caution to the wind. Sloan knows she should put last night in the past, along with everything else Nixon West, but for some reason she just can’t. She can’t stop thinking about every detail of that dance. She thought if she had one more night with him, that maybe she would be sated, that maybe she could really move on. But she isn’t sated. The urge to itch that Nix scratch has now grown ten-fold, engorging her, and leaving her feeling equal parts gluttonous and starving.

While the coffee pot brews, she thwarts off her wayward thoughts by going through some of her mail from Project Smiles. She opens a small thank-you card filled with kind words from a young boy’s mother. His name is Jose, and over a year ago, he underwent a plastic surgery to fix a facial deformity. The beautiful picture his mother added inside the envelope puts a huge smile on Sloan’s face. She hangs the card and picture on her fridge, next to several other thank-you cards and pictures she’s accumulated over the years through mission trips with Project Smiles. She loves starting her day by seeing evidence of the good things that being Dr. Felicia Santora has done for children like Jose.

Once her giant yellow mug that easily holds sixteen ounces of coffee is in her hand, she chooses to spend her morning researching. She turns on her favorite iTunes playlist, tapping her feet and bobbing her head to the music. Sloan focuses on finding anything and everything she can possibly find out about Nix. This is one perk for not only being a part of the CIA, but having the highest clearance within the Clandestine Affairs Division. She can track down anyone and anything.

Yeah, this could be considered a breech in protocol, but there is one thing that Agent L-55 is really good at—
computer hacking.
She’s highly skilled when it comes to breaking into databases and ensuring that no one will ever find out that she was even there. It’s not like she’s hacking into the Federal Reserve and wiring money into an offshore account only she could access—which she could probably do. She’s just going to snoop around and dig for a little more information on
him.

She logs onto her personal laptop—the one that even the CIA doesn’t have access to—and breaks into one of her neighbors’ Wi-Fi networks.

I Love Porn.
Interesting choice in network name. She’ll have to find out which one of her neighbors has this little ditty as their main source of Internet later—after she’s found out all she needs to know about a certain Navy SEAL.

Fifteen minutes later, she’s retrieved an endless amount of information on Nix.

His family moved to L.A. when he was around seventeen years old. His mother and father are still living. His father, Marshall West, recently retired from his career as a pilot for a commercial airline. His mother, Debbie West, never got another job after the West family left Honolulu.

Sloan smiles from happy memories of Nix’s parents. She always did love them. His mother made the best chocolate chip cookies and his father loved to tell her corny jokes that made her giggle from their absurdity. They were the picture-perfect couple with a relationship that proves there are still people out there who can maintain a happy marriage.

Nix graduated from the Naval Academy and went straight into the Navy as an officer. He was stationed on several naval bases throughout the country before he entered into BUD/S training. The first three years of his SEAL experience is easily visible. Every assignment, every mission—all of them are found without difficulty. But the last few years seem to be nonexistent. Almost like he retired or just…
disappeared
.

That is odd. She decides to do a little more delving and searches for information on his two buddies she met last night. Slade Hammersmith and Julian Knight. She seems to receive the same results on them. What they did and accomplished after the first couple of years of becoming SEALs is found without difficulty, but that’s all she can find…
Interesting.

She’s more than intrigued. Sloan finds information on pretty much everything that is Nixon West. His bank accounts, his home address, email addresses, any outstanding loans—even his preferred shopping places. He seemed to stop utilizing social media sites once he became a SEAL. She was able to track down a few pictures—pictures of him in high school, at the Naval Academy, and his graduation from BUD/S training.

Her chest twinges and aches with discomfort when her eyes find a photograph of a twenty-something Nix with a very attractive brunette tucked into his side. The woman is smiling flirtatiously at him as he grins into the camera. Sloan might as well be watching a re-play of a career-ending sports injury on television. She knows what’s coming, she knows it’s fucking painful, but she just can’t pull her eyes away from that god damn picture.
God, that hurts.

Sloan immediately ends her research hour, deciding that, sometimes, drudging up the past isn’t the best plan of action.
Sometimes it hurts like hell
. And it might seem ridiculous for her to feel upset by seeing an old picture of him with another woman, but she can’t help it. When it comes to Nix, her emotions are never deemed rational or logical. They’re crazy and uninhabited and even completely foolish at times. Even after all the time that’s passed, he still evokes feelings no one else ever has inside her.

Her iPhone pings with a text message notification and she quickly grabs it off the kitchen counter.

I Will Always Answer This Hot SEAL’s Texts & Calls: Good Morning.

She laughs out loud at the ridiculous contact name he saved his number under.

The smile that spreads across her face is beyond absurd, yet she still can’t stop it. She quickly types a response back after changing his name to Nix in her phone.
Obviously, my irrational side is winning today.

Felicia: You’re relentless.

Nix: You’re stubborn. What are your plans today?

Felicia: None of your business.

Nix: And feisty. Definitely feisty. You don’t have to tell me your plans. Just give me a hint…

Felicia: Does that really work on other women?

Nix: I don’t care what works on other women. I only care what works on you.

Her mouth forms a tiny ‘O’ at his very forward response to her question. Her belly flutters with excitement. She’s excited over the possibility that maybe Nix doesn’t have any other women in his life. This is excitement she shouldn’t have, but she can’t seem to stop no matter how hard she tries.

Felicia: Cross trainers.

Nix: Huh?

Felicia: One hint. That’s all you’re getting, sailor. Enjoy your day.

She grins at her obvious win over this conversation. Nixon West might be good, but Sloan Walker is better. She’s learned from the best, and some would actually call her the best. That grin stays plastered on her face while she takes a shower and when she’s drying her hair—even when she’s lacing up her Nike cross trainers in preparation for her run.

She heads out of her apartment and carefully observes the people in the building she passes on her way out.
Who is the owner of I Love Porn?
She makes a mental note to figure that one out when she gets home. A young, college-aged kid with that computer network is completely understandable, but if it’s a middle-aged, reclusive man living by himself, she’ll be glad to know that he’s the kind of guy to keep her distance from.