Fighting Chance (Misty Grove Book 1) (20 page)

“Why were you laughing earlier?” The amusement in Trent’s eyes belied the aggrieved tone of his voice.

“I was surprised that you weren’t worried about my legs squeezing your head.”

Trent dropped his forehead to hers, his body shaking with suppressed laughter.
 

“I lo—” He caught himself, cleared his throat, and then said, “Hmm, death by cunnilingus. You’ve got the sweetest pussy. Not sure I’d mind going out that way.”

He started inching his cock inside her.

“Trent,” Cassie whispered. “Condom.”

“Shit,” he muttered. “Sorry.” He leaned over slightly and detached one from the string of condoms he’d previously pulled out from the box in the nightstand. She had teased him last night about the newly opened box.
 

After rolling it on, he eased inside her slowly. She was a bit sore from all the activity last night, but since she was already wet from her orgasm earlier, the fullness she was feeling was more pleasure than discomfort.

“Good?” Trent murmured. “You’re not in pain, are you? I rode you hard last night.” The gleam in his eyes was a mixture of concern and possessiveness.

She answered by locking her legs around him, her ankles at his ass urging him forward. “Give me that big, fat cock, Sheriff.”

Trent groaned as he seated himself to the hilt. “God, you feel so fucking good. Can’t wait to feel you bare.”

He rocked into her. This time he took her slow, gently kissing her forehead, her eyelids, the tip of her nose and lips. Cassie felt adored. This wasn’t fucking. It felt like making love.

*****

Trent watched the pancake batter spread on the cast-iron griddle while the country sausages sizzled on the skillet on the other burner. Breakfast was underway. That was the least he could do after wearing Cassie out with the demands he’d made on her body.
 

He was far from done.

A smile played on his lips. Finally making her his in the physical sense surpassed his wildest dreams. She was simply perfect for him. So responsive and sensual. Shy, yet not so much that she didn’t let him know what she wanted. He always knew it would be good with her, he just wasn’t prepared to be blown out of his damned mind. And he knew it was because his emotions were already involved.
 

Fuck
. He’d nearly blurted what was in his heart. Good thing he’d caught himself. Though he knew he was falling in love with her, he hadn’t said those words to anyone since his ex-fiancée all those years ago. He wanted to be sure it was the lasting kind of love this time and not some infatuation or heat-of-the-moment words driven by his dick. Besides, Cassie was annoyingly skittish when it came to discussing their relationship. She hated labels, and he thought he was cracking through her damned armor and then yesterday happened.

His attention circled back to the bubbling batter as he flipped the pancakes. Though Cassie was surrounded by complex situations, he was finding out his woman had simple needs. For example: food. He relished watching her eat, though he was worried she was eating too much diner food. Thankfully, Millie seemed concerned with the twin’s health and would occasionally shove some less greasy fare their way. Not that Trent was doing any better at the moment, but he wanted to make her feel at home. He glanced around the sparsely furnished house. He had yet to get a dining table for the kitchen. All he had right now was a collapsible table and folding chairs. Not that he thought Cassie minded; she never struck Trent as the domesticated type. At least the bedroom furniture was new, and they’d already put it to good use. He smirked.

“Hmm...pancakes and sausage.” Arms circled his torso as soft breasts pressed against his back. His cock jerked happily as if Trent had not worn that fucker out.

 
He covered the linked fingers on his abs with his free hand and craned his neck slightly to kiss the top of Cassie’s head. “These will be ready in a sec. Why don’t you set the table? Plates are in the last cabinet to my right, utensils in the drawer right below it.”

Trent hated to lose her touch but was also relieved in a way. Cassie was affecting him too much. A little distance would help if there was a prayer of ever getting breakfast on the table. As much as he wanted to drop her delectable ass on the counter and eat her pussy for breakfast, they had things to clear up. Fucking each other’s brains out as a means to block out the problems surrounding them was not an option if he wanted a fighting chance at making their relationship work. No more secrets.
 

“So why aren’t you at work? Don’t you have the day shift today?” Cassie asked as she started setting the table.
 

She gave him the perfect opening.
 

He didn’t answer for a while though. Instead, he carefully transferred the pancakes on a serving platter and turned off the burner under the sausages.
 

“Trent?”

He set their breakfast on the table before staring her directly in the eye. “I’ve been put on administrative leave.”

“Wh-what?” Cassie gasped, eyes widening in disbelief. “Why? Because of me?”

“Not exactly because of you. Because of what happened at the Route 11 shooting.”

“But you saved us!”

“The Georgia Bureau needs to do its own investigation or a semblance of it since the evidence has been sequestered by the FBI under CIA directive. Obviously, since I let Matt and everyone else go, I wasn’t following procedure. I was put on administrative leave by the DA.”

Cassie rubbed her forehead and sank to the chair. “I need pancakes.” Trent smiled as she piled the griddle cakes on her plate and took a big bite. Chewing thoughtfully, she said, “That’s where you were yesterday, handling all the alphabet agencies?”

It was a clusterfuck for sure. Trent thought he was going to get thrown in jail before the governor and an unnamed CIA officer called into the conference bridge line and backed up his actions. The DA was not pleased and, more so, neither was GBI Investigator Jacoby. The CIA officer forbade the GBI and any of the alphabet agencies to question anyone from Misty Grove, and that included Cassie. When Jacoby and the FBI agent on the bridge protested and asked why, the CIA officer informed them it was above their pay grade to know why. That shut them up really quick, but because the Route 11 incident had not been contained in time, someone had to take the fall. That someone was Trent.
 

“Yes,” Trent’s jaw hardened as he remembered a particularly troubling discussion. “I’m really, really mad at you, Cassie.”
 

She looked at him questioningly.

“You allowed yourself to be used as bait.” She opened her mouth to say something, but Trent cut her off. “You knew you were going to be set up.”

She tried to speak once more, but he, again, shut her down. “Do you have any idea what I went through when Stratford walked into my office to tell me what was going down?”

“Wyatt? I thought Lucas told you.”

“Lucas called Stratford because he didn’t have my private number. Things were happening so fast, he panicked and called Stratford, who he already knew was at the county offices for some business.”

Cassie’s eyes narrowed. “And Wyatt just told you everything out of the goodness of his heart?”

Trent snorted derisively. “I’m glad you’re not so blinded by the man you were in love with.”

“Glad you said ‘were,’ otherwise you’d be wearing your pancakes,” Cassie retorted. “What did Wyatt want in return?”

Trent stayed quiet for a moment because what he’d agreed to do had opened his eyes to the fact that he would damn the whole world for Cassie. Nothing mattered but her.
 

“Trent?”

“Promise you won’t walk away from me.”

“Oh, my God, what did you do?” Cassie whispered.

“I agreed to look the other way regarding his illegal activities,” Trent said quietly. “Apparently, Lucas has agreed to do one more fight for him.”

“That asshole!” Cassie’s chair scraped back as she stood and began pacing the kitchen. “You can’t compromise your job for me, Trent!”

“It’s a done deal. I’m not going back on my word.”

“This is bullshit. I’m not letting you do this,” Cassie raged, her eyes flaring in defiance. “We’re over. I told you we were a bad idea.”

She didn’t get a chance to say any more because Trent had stood up in a flash and backed her into the kitchen counter, caging her with his arms on either side of her.

 
He was furious.
 

“I knew you were going to say that,” he growled. “Well, guess what? I’m not letting you go. I’m not running for sheriff in the next election because my woman is a damned little outlaw. There would be too much conflicting interest, and I choose you.” He lowered his head to emphasize his point. “I. Choose. You.”

“You can’t,” Cassie whispered.

“Sorry, babe, I just did.”

They stared at each other defiantly. Finally, Cassie lowered her gaze and her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I’ll try to be less troublesome.”

Trent smiled wryly. “That’d be appreciated.” He said it more in jest, because when Trent had made up his mind to pursue Cassie, he knew there would be difficult decisions to make. The lines between right and wrong were fuzzy in her world. It would be choosing the lesser of two evils. And at that time, Stratford was the lesser evil. The bad taste in his mouth for capitulating to Stratford’s condition stemmed from Cassie’s past feelings for the man. He’d made morally ambiguous choices before for the greater good. “I’m feeling like a hypocrite now in my suspension of Frank, but I didn’t know the big picture then. I’ve since been enlightened.”

“Oh, yeah?” Cassie said softly, looking up at him with her luminous hazel eyes.

“Why are you crying, babe?”

“I’m not,” she snapped as she adorably wiped some moisture from the corner of one eye and glared at him.

“Oh yes, you are.”

She exhaled deeply. “I’m just figuring out what a great guy you are, Trent Stone, and I’m one lucky woman that there’s a man like you crazy enough to take me on.”

“Hellcat, I’m the only guy who can take you on, remember that.”

Color suffused her cheeks. She lowered her eyes and looked around him toward the table. “Pancakes are getting cold.”

Trent sighed and stepped back. He wasn’t annoyed this time at her evasiveness in discussing their deepening relationship. That he’d finally fucked her soothed the possessive beast inside him, and she’d all but admitted he was the man for her. This was progress, and he’d take whatever he could.
 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

They’d been driving for a long time, maybe ten hours. Piper was feeling restless because they were on the run. What happened with Scout had been a disaster. They had been careless. If they’d considered earlier that she had a tracker attached to her, they could have planned things differently.

The mercenaries Xavier had hired were also worthless pieces of shit. Piper shouldn’t have gotten on the bike with Deb. Now, she was no better than Scout and Bear when she had abandoned Kate. But Deb and Xavier had convinced her that Kate was better off and could get the medical attention she needed to get her well.

It still didn’t sit well with Piper. She felt all alone now.

She also should have killed that dirty cop, Riley. From what Piper gleaned from Xavier’s ramblings when he packed them all up, the once powerful and untouchable CEO of Quantagen had a reason to run. The feds had all the intel to link Riley and the mercenaries back to Xavier. He’d be charged with the murder of Arnold Bowman and Deuce Walker. Riley had personally killed Bowman because the deputy was on the take himself from that greedy real estate developer and had been a regular visitor to his home. Bowman never saw that coming. Deuce Walker’s death came at the hands of a nurse, who Riley had some blackmail to hold over. Potassium chloride, when injected, caused sudden cardiac death and was pretty much undetectable other than slightly abnormal blood chemistry with regards to potassium levels.
 

Riley had also killed the former sheriff because he’d discovered his investigator’s dirty double dealings.

So, it was only a matter of time before the feds caught up with Xavier, but the genetic scientist had connections that could get him out of the country quickly. For the right price.
 

“Not sure I want to go to Morocco,” Deb declared from the back. They were in an SUV, a driver and bodyguard in the passenger seat. Xavier and Piper were in the second row while Deb had the third row of seats all to herself.

“Would you rather I left you here, Dr. Stiles?” Xavier said sarcastically. “My contact inside the FBI said the feds have shared their database with the GBI. And we know one or more of your many aliases are in the fed’s system. At least in Morocco there is no extradition.”

Their vehicle took a turn off from the main road and traveled down a bumpy gravel path for almost a mile before reaching two black Suburbans parked on the shoulder.
 

“My contact has made the arrangements for us at a private hangar in Miami International Airport.” Xavier held a briefcase tightly. It didn’t take a genius to know that it was filled with cash or diamonds or whatever price was demanded.

As their SUV approached the other two vehicles, three men stepped out of the first Suburban. Two of them were dressed in khaki shorts and white tees and were armed with carbines. Mercenaries. The third man, who was the tallest and most well-built among the trio wore a Hawaiian shirt over shorts. Despite the man’s relaxed attire, Piper’s instincts were nowhere near casual regarding this meeting.
 

“How well do you know this man?” Piper hissed as their SUV came to a halt. Their bodyguard hopped out of the vehicle and opened Xavier’s door.

“Very well,” Xavier replied. “He’s our new partner for a lucrative business in Africa.”

“What business?”

The scientist didn’t reply. Piper cursed and ambled out of the vehicle, with Deb following closely behind her.
 

“Xavier Sanchez!” Hawaiian Shirt Guy exclaimed as he shook hands with Xavier.