Spy Games: Birthday Games (2 page)

“So we agree. Charlotte knows nothing until the end, and only if we have to send her in. And we hope to hell she regains some of her memories about her past life or we’re fucked.”

“You know this kills me, but yeah. I agree.” What choice did Jake have? Given Chase’s weird, sixth sense about intelligence and how the pieces would eventually fit together with so little proof, it made sense to wait to involve Charlotte. “You sense something more, don’t you? Stuff you’re not sharing?”

Chase nodded. “I don’t understand where any of this is going, and there are parts that I can’t connect to this yet, but I know they’re all related.”

“So what do I do?”

“I want you to hit London and Dubai, see what you can find out. See who’s involved and maybe add a few photos and things to the file.”

Half of Jake’s life was spent sitting, watching, and taking pictures. Thank fuck he was easily amused. “I can do that. Am I taking a partner?”

“No, you’ll go alone. I’m going to send Kate with Charlotte for this week, and then God help me, next week she’s going with Steve.”

“You didn’t have any say over that one, did you, buddy?” Steve Crazwalski was a hell of an agent but was just as bad of a man whore as Jake.

“No,” Chase grumped. “Someone told Kate about Steve’s team skill and the fact that he loves model trains, and they’ve hatched this plan to make mini model explosions around his train set. She’s not taking no for an answer on this.”

Jake groaned. “Kate would want to pick his brain for his creepy computer smarts.” The members of the team all had something special to offer. Jake was multi-useful, a good shot and sheer brawn and balls as well as brains. Charlotte took out the riffraff and cleaned up. Kate was their bomb and chemicals specialist and knew the most languages.

Steve could make any computer sing. He knew how to get into a site, rig computers to get the information, then how to decode it all within the blink of an eye. The model train hobby—Jake actually thought that was cool, too, but Chase probably didn’t have cool toys as a kid. Probably only had little, toddler-sized guns.

So why did Chase look like someone had kicked his sports car? “She’s not interested in Steve sexually, you know. She has you.”

“I know.” But Chase still looked miserable.

“Then what are you worried about, besides Kate losing a finger over mini explosions?”’

“Steve knows too much. About the club? And what we’ve done? What if he…shares.”

Jake laughed at that. “Kate knows you weren’t a choirboy. She also knows you’re reformed. Hell, I’ve told her stuff that would definitely get my ass kicked by you.”

Chase narrowed his eyes. “Like?”

Jake pretended to think a moment as he made shit up. “That threesome with Monica from accounting over at the base and then how we—”

“No!” Chase cringed. “She doesn’t need to look at every woman and wonder if we’ve fucked her, too.”

Jake laughed, loving his discomfort. Chase wasn’t uncomfortable about much, and yet Jake had poked that part of him hard, twice today. “I’m just pulling your leg. I didn’t say anything. Honest.”

“Yeah, well, remember I’m reformed. And next to my nearly pristine wife, with her tally marks of two, I feel like a whore.”

“The best kind of whore, buddy. I love you for it.”

“Shut it.” Chase’s expression turned sneaky, and the grin he shot was pure evil. “Rumors say you’re slacking off on the tally sheet. Anything you want to share?”

“Nope. You keep me too busy to sample the club’s delights,” Jake lied. He had no idea why he didn’t want to share this with Chase, but he didn’t.

Since Tia Richards had come into his life, Jake had been happy to stop adding notches to his bedpost. She was sexy as hell, into roleplay, loved kink, and more importantly, she didn’t want a relationship. She was a spy, too, for a different office and was out of town almost as much as he was, so it worked for both of their needs.

They had agreed they didn’t need to be exclusive, either, so Kate and Chase’s ménage offering was fair game. It didn’t help, though, that Jake felt a little guilty about saying yes to Chase, like he was betraying Tia. He brushed that aside. Tia was out of town for the next two weeks, anyway. Between Tia and feeling weird about Kate, he was suddenly kind of leery about his birthday.

“So when do I leave?” Jake asked to change the subject and get back to work chatter, which was much safer.

“Tonight. I’ll forward you flight information and whatever you need.”

Jake nodded and tried to look innocent. “You gonna bake me a birthday cake?”

“If I must.” Chase sounded pissed, but Jake could sense he was touched to be asked. Chase would cook that French shit of his for anyone, but he rarely baked. But when he did…the results were amazing.

“Chocolate? Real frosting? Boob-shaped? Steve had a boob-shaped cake for his birthday last year at the club. Freaking awesome.”

Chase laughed and rolled his eyes. “You’re a boob. Go get packed.”

****

“You nervous?” Chase asked.

Kate Sanders glanced at her husband of all of a month and shrugged, trying to look cool. Yes, she was nervous, because between the two guys, she had gotten a whole mess of mixed signals. Jake hadn’t been quite right for months now, and she had no clue what was wrong.

Chase she got. He was stressed, and for some reason, the stress levels had picked up over the past week until she was damned glad they were having a ménage just so he could blow off steam. Maybe it would be what Jake needed, too.

“You look nervous,” Chase observed.

The elevator doors closed, and she teetered on spiky heels as the car climbed upward. Chase put a hand under her elbow to steady her. “Should I be?”

“Seeing you don’t walk on four-inch heels every day, yes.” Chase grinned.

Kate rolled her eyes, pissed as hell about what she was wearing for Jake’s birthday ‘party’ to take place in his private room at the BDSM club he frequented. A party of three. “I don’t get this outfit. Is this trampy, Catholic schoolgirl ready to party with Daddy?” She had on a pleated, plaid mini skirt, thigh high stockings, a white shirt tied under her breasts, exposing her stomach…at least they didn’t want pigtails. The heels were just insult to the injury in her mind.

“Jake likes naughty school girls of any religious denomination, but I doubt you’ll call him Daddy.” Chase shifted the huge shopping bag to the other hand and cast a leering gaze over her outfit. “You do look hot, though.”

“You want me to call you Daddy?”

“Uh, no.” But Chase laughed. “I like Sir just fine.”

The elevator doors opened, and Kate expected to head to the other side, through the common room of sin and debauchery like last time, but they turned left, away from the dungeon area of the club and down a secluded hall. “He’s not on the other side?”

“No. When you have prime membership, you get a private room. His is down here.”

“You don’t have prime membership.”

Chase shot her the sweetest smile, one that made her toes curl up with glee. “Not anymore. Not unless you want this, too.”

They were plenty kinky at home, and she loved every minute of it. She didn’t know if this scene was her, though, and it thrilled her that she was enough to make him happy, too. “I like our life the way it is right now.”

“Me, too.” He dropped a kiss to her lips. “You ready, naughty girl?”

She nodded, surprised there were no nerves anymore, only excitement for what the evening would bring. But she frowned when Chase gave a quick knock and readied a card key for entry. “Why do you have a key?”

“I have keys to everything in Jake’s world, vice versa, except Shelby.”

Kate shook her head. There were two things in Chase’s life that made her green with jealousy—the little red sports car and Charlotte. “Jake could hotwire Shelby.”

“Yeah, but he won’t. He knows how far I can shoot.”

As soon as the door opened, Kate broke from Chase’s side as fast as her high heels could take her and dove into Jake’s arms. She nestled against his chest, inhaling the clean scent she’d missed over the past week he’d been in Europe. His arms were her second favorite place to be in the world, the first being Chase’s. But Jake was her work husband, the deadly spy who watched her back as she kicked bad guy ass.

“Honey, you must be hard up if you’re greeting me this sweetly,” Jake drawled. He sounded tired. She pulled away to take in his blond, golden goodness. He looked tired, too, from the depth of the shadows under his deep blue eyes. But then he’d flown in from overseas somewhere, landing this afternoon. The shuteye he’d gotten on the plane had probably been it for the last few days.

“Happy birthday. I missed you.” And she had, enough that she dove into his arms again, hugging him close. Jake had been her first friend in her new life as a spy, a life she’d earned when Chase’s mission imploded over a year ago. Partners first, then friends, close through thick and thin. He’d hit on her unmercifully in the beginning, but as soon as he realized her heart belonged to Chase, he’d backed off to being her watchdog protector and friend.

“Chase not treating you well?” Jake’s gaze flicked over her shoulder to his best friend.

“He’s been in boss-mode since you left. I need my ally to keep me safe.” Chase grunted behind her, but she sensed he wasn’t angry. Kate pouted, something she never did, but she blamed it on the stupid outfit. “He’s threatening to make me run again, as punishment.”

“And he should make you run, from D.C. to Philly then back. You were disobedient that last mission.”

“He’s not supposed to know about that.”

Jake hummed in a non-committal way as he dropped a quick kiss to her lips. He then released her so he could greet Chase, who had just set the cake he’d been carrying over on the bar counter. They did the man-hug thing, one-armed with back slapping. Jake was the only person Chase greeted this warmly, besides her and Charlotte.

Kate crossed her arms over her chest, suffering a nervous little flutter in her stomach because she wasn’t sure what Chase knew about her last mission with Jake three weeks ago. Jake had said he wouldn’t tell on her. She cast a cautious glance at Chase, who chose the chair by the bed to sprawl in. He looked amused, his dark eyes sparkling, so handsome in black slacks and a navy dress shirt, his jacket now hanging on the coat rack. Dark and dangerous, he was definitely Lord of the Spies material, all boss and ego. All hers.

Jake leaned against the bar, peeking into the bag. The cake was in a container at the bottom, sealed from view, with napkins, plates and forks piled on top. He held up a Tupperware container. “Extra frosting?”

Chase’s smile was smug. “Of course.”

Jake grinned and put it back in the bag. He picked up a remote and pressed a button, and a moment later the room filled with music. Kate recognized the song from one of his playlists, a bass thumping thing that made her want to dance.

“Kate doesn’t get any frosting, for being a brat,” Jake said.

Kate sniffed indignantly, more than a little worried still. “I wasn’t disobedient. You didn’t say I couldn’t disarm the guy.”

“Since when does ‘stand down’ mean go ahead, disarm the fucker? Maybe you and I had different training.” Jake shed his jacket and glanced at Chase. “Oh, that’s right. I helped to train you. So yeah, you should know better.”

She glanced nervously at Chase, who arched a brow at her in a way that told her she was busted. “You’re a…a...fink, Anderson. Telling on me. You said you wouldn’t, that we were good. How am I supposed to trust you?”

Jake undid his shirt cuffs and gave her a dirty, wicked grin. “I tell him everything when you’re in my care, darlin’, right down to what color panties you put on before you head out the door.”

“You’re my friend! My partner! The rule is we don’t talk to him when we’re in the field. Does he know that? Does he know why?” Chase knew too well what his agents were up to with that uncanny sixth sense of his. If you were slacking off, he knew, so they didn’t report in unless absolutely necessary, the preferred method by text. Chase hated texting. Obviously, Jake had no problem breaking
that
unspoken rule, tattling on her, despite being the worst slacker.

Chase snorted. “I’m sitting right here, love. You could ask me directly.”

Jake laughed. “It’s either tell him every time you sneeze or he’ll end up tagging along on missions. I have no problem reporting your naughtiness and your panty color if it keeps me from running as punishment.”

Kate glared at them both and tossed up her hands in frustration. “Then I’m not wearing panties anymore. Report that.”

Chase frowned. “No need to be pissed, love. He said you were magnificent in your disobedience.”

Her disobedience hadn’t been a big deal, really. A strung-out druggie had approached them after they’d had dinner in L.A. with Jake’s brother, Aaron, after a surveillance job had been completed. That asshole had shoved his gun in Jake’s face and demanded his wallet. Jake had rolled his eyes, because the scumbag was no more than a garden snake hissing at a cobra. And yeah, Jake had told her to stand down, in French, because he didn’t want her to have any fun.

“I kicked that jerk’s ass and I had a good time. The next time
he
wants me to follow orders,
he
needs to take us to a better restaurant. I can’t believe he’d let his little brother suffer that swill on his birthday. So, no, I’m not sorry.”

Jake arched a brow and glanced at Chase. “Not sorry?”

“No. I’m standing up for myself and Aaron on this one.”

Jake sighed. “Aaron picked the restaurant.”

“I doubt it. He’s smarter than that.”

“Was Aaron there when you kicked that jerk’s ass?” Chase turned alarmed eyes to Jake, then Kate, as he sat taller in the armchair. “Please tell me you didn’t blow your cover. He thinks you work for the IRS, you know.”

“Relax, Chase. He’d left.” Jake turned to Kate, his eyes narrowed. “You’ll disobey me again?”

“If you feed me like that again, yes.” But she swallowed at the soft heat in Jake’s voice, his tone so close to the one Chase used in the bedroom, deep and dark, promising wicked, naughty things. She lifted her chin in defiance though her belly warmed with desire. “What are you going to do about it?”