Hot Mess (6 page)

She blinked. “I don’t know that anything was.”

“You mentioned it. I think you wouldn’t have done that if it didn’t bother you somehow.”

Her heart beat a little faster as she thought back to that night. “The man seemed angry. And I didn’t like the way he looked at me.” She shrugged. “It was nothing else, really. Just a bad feeling he gave me.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“No.”

“What did he look like?”

“Dark. Middle-Eastern, maybe, and that pains me to say because it shouldn’t mean a damn thing.”

“No, it shouldn’t. But sometimes it does.” He didn’t have to remind her that she’d described the man from the coffee shop as vaguely foreign, too.

“He had a goatee, closely cropped. He looked… very manicured. Well-dressed and well-groomed. There was nothing unusual in that, except that he didn’t seem to match Jake, if you know what I mean. Jake was, I don’t know, very casual. Except when in uniform, of course.”

“You have something or saw something. Or someone thinks so anyway. And until we figure out what that is, you’re staying here.”

A little wave of panic rose in her chest. “You aren’t leaving me out here alone, are you?” She’d lived alone for the past year, but being left in a remote location in Maryland where she didn’t know a soul and couldn’t even see the next house? The thought terrified her.

Sam put his hands on her shoulders. “I’m not leaving you. I’m here until this is over. And if I have to leave for some reason, one of the other guys will be with you. We won’t leave you unprotected.”

Georgeanne shivered. His hands on her shoulders were warm and strong, and she wanted to feel them everywhere, wanted the heat of him to engulf her. She hated that she did, especially when he seemed so determined to be remote. “Who are those guys?”

“My coworkers,” he said, his tone telling her he wouldn’t say anything else. “They know what they’re doing.”

She grinned up at him suddenly. “Careful, Sam, or I’ll start to think you’re part of some secret military outfit.”

He gazed at her steadily, his expression never changing, and it suddenly hit her that that was exactly what was going on. Sam McKnight was a part of something she wasn’t supposed to know about.

“Does Rick know?” she asked, and his gaze shuttered.

He turned away from her, his jaw tight. She didn’t know why she felt closer to him in that moment, but she did. He was a part of something big and she was the only one who’d guessed, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

She touched his arm. “I won’t say a word. I promise.”

“There’s nothing to say, Georgie. I’m a Ranger. Same as always.”

“Of course,” she said. But she didn’t believe it.

* * *

Sam was restless as hell. Evening was falling and frogs began their nightly chorus against the backdrop of the river and marshes nearby. There was no car noise out here, no planes or motorcycles or people talking. It was peaceful, but he didn’t feel at peace.

Georgie sat at the small table on the porch with her laptop. They hadn’t spoken much in a couple of hours now. He hadn’t known what to say to her, truth be told. Georgie wasn’t stupid and of course she would figure there was something going on after he’d taken her to HOT HQ. It wasn’t that they didn’t bring civilians to HOT—they did, clearly, or there wouldn’t be a separate area for visitors—but he hadn’t expected to have to take her there.

The cover story was always that they were Rangers when in truth they were so much more. HOT was secret, its members recruited from the Rangers, the Green Berets—and even from Delta Force, which was very similar. The wives of HOT members didn’t even know about its existence, though they knew their husbands went on missions quite often. HOT was, by design, a male-dominated organization. That’s just how Special Operations were, though with women being allowed to do combat tours nowadays, he didn’t think it would be long before they had female team members too.

Sam had gone out into the front yard to place a call back to HOT. He’d told them what Georgie had said about the guy with Jake Hamilton. It was probably nothing, but Sam had learned not to discount anything out of hand. Explore every lead, no matter how insignificant.

What he hadn’t told Georgie—what he couldn’t tell her—was that Jake Hamilton had been attempting to sell information about a DARPA mini-UAV project to a foreign organization. Mini-drones were the size of moths or hummingbirds, and they could do amazing surveillance work. They could also be weaponized, which was a frightening fucking thought. But the problem with them was powering them for long periods of time. They just didn’t have long-range capability. Their juice drained within minutes.

And that’s what DARPA was working on. A mini-drone, capable of being weaponized and able to fly long distances before recharging. That was the nightmare: a weapon of that scope in the wrong hands could change the face of the War on Terror—and not in a good way.

Mendez had said during the briefing that they still didn’t know if Jake had managed the hand-off or not, but the group he’d been dealing with was apparently a front for the Freedom Force. They didn’t think Hamilton had known precisely who he was selling the information to. Or cared.

He may not have been a particularly stylish dude, according to Georgie, but he sure had expensive tastes in things other than clothes. A vintage Corvette, for instance. A rare Colt pistol. Front row seats to a Gina Domenico concert.

Fucking dumbass.

The Freedom Force probably wasn’t interested in the time and money required to build a mini-drone—but they would be interested in selling the information to the highest bidder. Most likely, they’d attempt to exchange it for a small tactical nuke. If he were Ibn-Rashad, that’s what he’d do. Get a nuke and detonate it somewhere in Europe, preferably near a US base.

Matt Girard told Sam to hold tight and they’d get back to him when they had something. Which left Sam with a whole lot of nothing to do, except sit around in a remote cottage with the one woman in this world he shouldn’t touch.

Georgie looked up from her computer, as if she’d known he was thinking about her. Their gazes clashed and held, and his heart ticked up a few beats. He didn’t know what to say to her anymore. Hell, he hadn’t known what to say to her since the minute she’d walked into that bowling alley in Hopeful and tied his tongue into knots.

He’d been filled with conflicting feelings, and he was still filled with them. She was just about the sexiest woman he’d ever known, and he knew that a lot of that was the lure of the forbidden. He wanted her because he’d decided he couldn’t have her.

If she were anyone else, he could fuck her and be done with it. But not Georgie. He wouldn’t risk hurting her. If it caused him some discomfort, well, he’d just have to deal with it.

“You hungry?” he asked, getting to his feet and ranging toward the kitchen.

She closed the laptop. “I could use a bite of something.”

Sam went over to the fridge and started pulling out vegetables. “Pasta primavera?” he asked when he’d taken inventory of the stocked kitchen. Thank God for HOT’s resources. Colonel Mendez had arranged this place at a moment’s notice, along with a fully stocked pantry and a generator, should they need it.

Georgie came over and leaned against the counter. She was smiling. “Seriously? You can make that?”

He shrugged self-consciously. “I’ve been on my own for a long time. It was learn to cook or starve.”

“Can I chop the veggies for you?”

He pushed the pile of vegetables toward her. “Sure.”

She began to prepare the veggies while he set up the water to boil and got the butter, cream, and Parmesan from the fridge. The kitchen was small and they had to stand almost elbow-to-elbow. He could feel the heat of her body, smell the perfume of her soap, and his dick started to harden as he imagined her in the shower, water and soap running down her skin.

Why had he let her help him again? Holy Christ, he’d never get through this night with her standing so damn close.

He set the pasta down on the counter and walked out of the kitchen.

“Everything okay, Sam?” she asked, her voice coming from right behind him.

He sucked in a deep breath and turned around. There she was, looking so vulnerable and tempting as she gazed up at him, her green eyes filled with questions he couldn’t begin to answer.

“Yes, fine. I just needed to get something.” He didn’t have anything in his hands, and they both knew it. But she shrugged and went back into the kitchen and he let out a long breath, clenched his fists at his side, and went to rejoin her.

She finished chopping everything and he put it on to sauté. When he turned around, she’d found a bottle of wine. She held it up. “Want some?”

“I’d better not.” He needed to keep his wits sharp, and he couldn’t do that if he were drinking. Not that he expected anyone to show up here looking for Georgie, but he considered himself on duty. Even if he felt like he wasn’t doing a damn thing out here in the boonies.

She removed the cork expertly and poured herself a glass. He watched her take a sip, remembering when she wasn’t old enough to drink at all. She used to wrinkle her nose at the beer he and Rick snuck out of her dad’s pool house refrigerator. They hadn’t done it often, but when they had, Georgie had never told on them.

She sat on a barstool on the other side of the tiny kitchen counter and smiled at him. His heart hitched in spite of himself.

“So did you think when you came to see me this morning you’d be sharing a house with me tonight?”

“Have to say it was the furthest thought from my mind.”

She took another sip of wine. “Yeah, me too. I’ve pretty much sworn off men altogether, and yet here you are.”

He frowned. “I’m sorry Tim hurt you, Georgie.”

Her expression tightened. “I think we probably hurt each other. But he’s moved on now. Got himself a new fiancée and everything.”

He could hear the note of hurt in her voice, and it made him want to throttle Tim for her.

“Seems kinda quick.”

She picked up a sliver of carrot and crunched on it. “You’d think, but it wasn’t all that quick after all. Tim and Lindsey have been sharing a bed for a couple of years now.”

Sam blinked. “A couple of years? Then that means…” She looked at him expectantly, an eyebrow raised, but he couldn’t finish the sentence. Tim Cash had been fucking someone else while still married to Georgie? What an asshole.

She lifted her glass high. “That’s right, Tim had him a little something on the side. To Tim and Lindsey, long may they enjoy themselves. God knows they certainly deserve each other.”

He hated to see her hurting. He especially hated that it was over another man. “I’m really sorry, Georgie. If it helps, and I’m sure it doesn’t, Tim’s a fucking asshole.”

She laughed. “Yeah, he is. But he’s not
my
asshole anymore, so there’s that at least.”

“Does your family know?”

She didn’t pretend not to understand him. “I’ve never said as much, but I suspect they have their theories. Besides, I’d rather Rick not charge up here and challenge Tim to pistols at dawn or something.”

“I could do it for him. Save him the trip. Plus, I’m a better shot.”

“Haha, funny man. Forget it. Tim is history.” She toyed with the stem of her wine glass. “So why haven’t you married yet?”

He ignored the flip of his heart. “Never wanted to.”

“You’ve never been in love?”

He turned away from her and put the pasta in the boiling water, giving it a vicious stir. When he turned back, she was still watching him expectantly. Damn it. He didn’t quite know what to say. He was thirty years old and he’d never been in love. Not only that, but he wasn’t sure he believed in love. Or at least not for everyone. His parents damn sure hadn’t had it. Neither had Georgie and Tim, apparently. Her parents seemed to be in love, but how did anyone really know what went on between two people?

He settled for the truth. “No.”

“But you’ve had girlfriends at least, right?”

“Georgie.”

She blinked innocently. “Yes, Sam?”

“Why are you asking me these things?”

“It’s called small talk. Remember that?”

Remember? Hell, he wasn’t likely to ever forget the last time she’d said that to him. They’d been parked by Hopeful Lake and she’d just told him she wanted him. Not only that, but his cock was beginning to harden at the memory. He didn’t deny himself many things, but when he did he usually accepted it and moved on. Except this time. Perversely, the more he denied himself the right to think about Georgie as anything besides his best friend’s little sister, the more he wanted her.

“I remember,” he said tightly.

“Sam, I really think you need some wine.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re too surly, for fuck’s sake. And your answers are monosyllabic to say the least. You need to loosen up, relax a bit. We’re just old friends catching up again. There’s nothing sinister in my questions.”

Suddenly, wine didn’t seem like such a bad idea. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet. He wouldn’t drink much, but a few sips wouldn’t hurt him. God knew, with his body mass, it took a lot to get him drunk. And at least if he appeared to be drinking with her, she might stop asking so many damn questions.