Finding the Fight: A Stealth Ops Novel Page 3

  Jessica wedged her bottle between her thighs and swept her hair into a messy bun, some loose strands drifting around her face.

  “Another round, darlin’.” Liam thickened his Aussie accent for the bartender. “S'il vous plaît,” he added and winked.

  Asher tossed his empty bottle, turned away from the team, and retrieved his phone to check his messages. He hadn’t heard from his sister in a few weeks, and it was making him nervous. She always returned his calls. He’d had a former Teamguy, Noah Dalton, check on her the other day, just to make sure she was still alive.

  She was breathing and doing fine, which meant one thing: she was avoiding him for some reason. But why?

  He tapped out another quick message to Sarah and then stowed his phone before rejoining the group.

  “I should’ve stayed here for the weekend.” Jessica’s eyes went to Asher’s stomach, and her lip pulled between her teeth.

  Did she feel guilty about distracting him earlier?

  He maneuvered between Owen and Jessica to snatch his new drink from the counter, and he brushed against her shoulder in the process.

  A twinge of . . . something . . . shot down his spine at the mere touch, and it had him swallowing as he edged away from her.

  “You need a vacation?” Owen asked, a smile on his lips. Jessica had forced Owen to take some time off, and it’d ended up with him falling in love a few months back.

  “No.” She looked at Owen off to her right. “I’ve got to be in Germany next week.”

  “Everything okay?” Asher asked. “Why are we only now hearing about this trip?”

  “It was a last-minute request for me to come.” Her pupils constricted and guilt crossed her face. “It’s been six months since I’ve visited the girls—they need me. And I see my other class a lot more often.”

  “First of all,” Asher began, “the girls in your other class live in New York. It’s a bit more convenient, so don’t feel bad.” He lowered his head a touch to connect with her eyes, to ensure he had her attention. “And secondly, you practically spend all of your free time teaching them online.”

  “He’s right. You have no life.” Wyatt nodded to add emphasis to his words. “I understand why you teach kids in the Bronx, but what led you to teach coding and tech skills to refugees all the way over in Germany?”

  “Yeah, Jess, why?” Owen cocked his head, a smirk stretching his lips. He’d asked her the same question before, trying to bait her into admitting she was compassionate beneath her tough exterior. She always shut him down, though.

  Asher knew the truth behind her motives. She was keeping a secret, and it all had to do with the op they’d worked together six years ago—the one no one knew about, especially not Luke.

  Asher took a slow and deliberate breath, the kind someone takes in an attempt to prevent his lungs from bursting when a B-52 drops a bomb nearby. The day he’d first laid eyes on Jessica crept back into his mind, and it had him rubbing his temples with his free hand.

  You got any brains to go with that brawn? Jessica had asked from inside TOC. They’d been going over the intel to prep for the mission in Syria.

  I say something to make you think otherwise? Asher had smacked a palm to his chest and studied the woman whose looks could bring a man to his knees.

  Only every fifth word, she’d quipped with that smart mouth of hers he’d wanted to kiss. Apparently, that mouth of hers had had him stumbling through his words like a damn idiot, leading her to question his mental faculties.

  I got the distinct vibe you hated me, he’d said the next day as she’d ripped her clothes off between hungry kisses.

  I do, she’d hissed and jumped into his arms a moment later, wrapping her bare legs around his hips.

  “It’s the least I can do for the girls,” Jessica said, obstructing Asher’s memories, hurling him back to the present. “I’m hoping to give them a better life in Germany. Not to only be thought of as refugees.”

  “They’ll become mini-yous with all that coding you’re teaching them,” Liam commented.

  “There can never be another Jessica,” Asher said, and a few of the guys cleared their throats at his words.

  “So, uh, are you going to see family while you’re in Germany?” Owen asked, coming in for the assist to kill the sudden awkwardness.

  “No, my relatives live in Munich,” she answered, but she cast Asher a suspicious look as if she were somehow reading his thoughts. “I won’t have time.”

  “No sense going over the Atlantic just to turn around and fly back this way.” Owen dropped onto a now-empty stool beside her. “I can cover you until Luke’s back if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “She doesn’t want to leave me in charge.” Asher gulped his beer, but it was too warm for his taste.

  Knox looked at Asher and scratched at his jaw. “Did you guys catch the Giants game last weekend?”

  “I don’t give a damn about American football,” Wyatt said with a laugh, missing the intentional change in topic.

  Asher moved to stand directly in front of Jessica, and the team parted like the Red Sea. All he could focus on was her blue eyes. “We can handle things with both you and Luke gone.”

  Her hand tightened around the bottle, and she brought the rim to her lips, allowing it to hover there. The simple act like a taunt to his dick. A tease of seduction.

  Every time he’d see her drink a beer—hell, even a bottle of water—it had his balls nearly falling off from becoming the most navy-fucking-blue ever.

  His mind had been in the gutter more than normal since they’d been working nonstop together.

  The way she’d bend over to pick something up at the office always had his knuckles wedging between his teeth to prevent grunting like a caveman.

  And the cherries. What was with her and cherries?

  Why did she have to eat them with her lunch? Every. Damn. Day.

  His thoughts seemed to go blank in those moments. But after the pause of blankness, he’d find himself on a collision course with the past.

  Six years . . . and he still couldn’t scrub the memory of their one night in bed from his mind.

  “Stay in Paris,” he finally spoke up. He dragged his thoughts out of the ditch, for now at least. “Or hell, head to Munich to visit your family before you’re needed in Berlin. Enjoy some time off. We’ll all be alive and well when you get back.”

  Of course, this meant he’d have to stay in Manhattan even longer, but he’d do it. For her.

  He’d survived the last two months working out of the city and covering for Luke without going to the old fight club. What were a few more days?

  Then again, maybe he wasn’t ready to leave her side quite so soon. Who knew when another job would come? And he’d damn sure miss her when he left. Not that he’d admit it, but he would. He’d even miss the cherries.

  Really, really miss the cherries.

  “No,” she said with a sigh. “We need to debrief. Besides, I didn’t bring enough stuff with me to extend the trip.”

  “Paris is filled with stores. Go buy some new things,” Knox said.

  “She can’t let go of control.” Asher smirked. “It’s not in her DNA.”

  “I can, but—”

  “No, you can’t,” he challenged, wondering if she’d take the bait. The woman did deserve some time to breathe.

  “Find yourself a French stud while you’re at it. Or a German dude, if you head there early.” Liam’s words had a chill rushing down Asher’s body. “You need to get laid. How long has it been?”

  Jessica shook her head and laughed. “My sex life is not your business.” Her eyes caught Asher’s as she spoke, and he wondered if she was taking a walk down memory lane, remembering their hookup, as well.

  “On that note, I think we should head to the gate,” Owen said and raised a brow.

  “Yeah, I’ll be right there.” Jessica turned toward the bar.

  “Last chance to stay,” Knox said, but she waved her hand in
the air without looking at him.

  Asher glanced at the guys and then gave a slight nod, letting them know he’d catch up with them.

  “Why are you still here?” she asked a moment later.

  He moved alongside her and positioned his bottle next to hers before his palms met the counter. “Because you’re here.” He hadn’t meant for the words to escape his mouth, but the truth had slipped free too fast.

  “You’re not going to convince me to stay.” She shifted to face him. “So don’t bother.” Her gaze swept over him, and her blue eyes narrowed as she appraised him as if he were worth well more than market value. “Let’s just catch up with the guys.” She started to stand, but he held a hand in the air, urging her back down, and she followed his command. That was almost a surprise.

  “I need you to tell me why you stormed the compound this morning.”

  She looked heavenward.

  “You weren’t supposed to come in. You always stay outside. What the hell happened?” She’d never taken chances like that when she’d worked alongside her brother.

  She fully faced him, a sudden fire in her eyes. “Because I lost you guys on comms. I told you this already.” Annoyance tinged her words, burning the edges, and he felt the flames.

  “And I said it was bullshit.” He cocked his head and folded his arms. “Tell me the truth.”

  “I heard the gunfire.” She lifted her shoulders. “Then there was the explosion.”

  “You shouldn’t have taken the risk.” His stomach dropped at the idea of something happening to her. “Luke would’ve killed me if you’d gotten yourself shot.”

  Her eyes skated down to his abdomen beneath his crossed arms. The same pull of guilt on her face reappeared. “Instead, I got you shot.” She gathered in a hard breath and released it. “I won’t make another mistake like that again. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m fine.” He reached for her wrist, feeling her pulse race beneath his thumb. “We can’t lose you, though. Got it?”

  She stared at his hand as if in a daze. “Why are you being so nice to me lately?”

  His eyes narrowed as he tried to rally his thoughts. “You want me to be a dick?” His boots edged a step away from her stool.

  “Yes.” She wet her lips and brushed her hand down the column of her throat.

  “Why?” He knew the answer, but he needed to hear the words slip from her mouth.

  “You know damn well why.” She stood.

  “Enlighten me.” His folded arms tensed as he examined her, waiting for her to either lie like normal, or finally expose the truth about how she felt.

  Without her brother as a barrier between them the last two months they’d grown closer, even though she’d rather run naked in Times Square than admit it.

  And although she was probably right to keep things professional, it was becoming more difficult with every passing day.

  “You know, after spending so much time together lately I thought you’d become more of a jackass.”

  Deflection, of course. The woman was a master at it.

  And with the sound of her ringing cell she’d found a second means to escape from any heavy or real conversation.

  “It’s Luke,” she said after retrieving her phone.

  Her brother.

  His commanding officer.

  A major damn cock-block.

  He dragged his palms down his face once her back was to him as she answered the phone.

  He caught sight of the bartender eying him. She coyly tucked her short, dark strands behind her ears and slowly rolled her tongue over her bottom lip, trying to get his attention.

  The universal signs for I want you crossed language barriers.

  His body had become immune to such advances, though. He’d had to resort to jerking off like a fifteen-year-old. The only woman he wanted he couldn’t have, but for some reason, he couldn’t bite the bullet and hook up with someone else. To move on.

  “Oh God.” Jessica’s words had him circling her to find her face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She lowered the phone from her ear. “A DEVGRU team took out a terrorist cell yesterday and . . .”

  “What?” He touched her bicep, worry darting through him.

  “It was confirmed it was the men who killed Marcus.”

  He staggered back a step in disbelief. “You’re sure? We’ve been down this road before.”

  Her brows drew inward. “President Rydell personally called Luke and told him the news. They’re certain. It’s finally over,” she whispered.

  And he did the first thing that came to mind. He grabbed hold of her and pulled her into his arms, holding her against him for the first time in six years.

  Chapter Two

  “To Marcus.” Luke raised his glass in the air.

  The guys had been sharing memories of him for the past hour at the back of a busy restaurant, Rossi’s, which had been Marcus’s favorite place to eat.

  Five square tables had been shoved together to accommodate some of the guys from Scott & Scott Securities, as well as Bravo and Echo Teams. Plus, there were two new additions to the group: Luke’s fiancée, Eva. And Owen’s fiancée, Samantha.

  “To never forgetting,” Asher added with a nod and finished his drink, his eyes now clinging to the far side wall. The vintage Italian signs held his attention and reminded him of his family’s restaurant; he breathed in the smell of a million baked pies and melted cheese. The taste of home on his tongue.

  But that home was gone. He’d left it behind to join the Navy.

  His team was his home now. And with justice served for Marcus, he felt like he could breathe again.

  “You good?” Liam asked after another ten or so minutes had passed. “I know you didn’t know Marcus well, but—”

  “I feel like I did.” I took his spot. And he sure as hell hoped no one else would ever have to be replaced. He didn’t know if he could handle any more losses in his life.

  “Well.” Liam rubbed his palms together and looked over at Jessica from across the table. “Marcus would want us having fun tonight. He’d kick our asses if we didn’t.”

  Knox cocked his head toward the wall of liquor behind the woman tending bar. Liam nodded and circumvented the table to follow him.

  “I think they have the right idea,” Wyatt said, pressing his palms to the table. “You need to loosen up, anyway. That woman at our three o’clock has been staring at you since we got here.”

  “Or maybe she’s been eying you,” Asher said without following Wyatt’s gaze.

  “So, you don’t mind if I move in?” He was already on his feet, sidestepping the chair.

  “Have at her,” he replied with a laugh, not sure if Wyatt even heard him.

  “Some things never change with you guys,” Jessica said once Wyatt was gone.

  “Why are you making such a sweeping generalization about us?” He leaned back in his seat and glanced toward the end of the table where Luke and his fiancée sat, then he looked over at Owen and Samantha laughing at something Luke had said.

  Two Teamguys down.

  Eight more to go.

  He wasn’t sure how many of his buddies would fall in love, though.

  “You guys play the field and never commit,” she said with a shrug before taking the cherry from her soda, placing it in her mouth, and pulling off the stem.

  And . . . I hate you. “You’re just as bad.” He took a sip of his Guinness to try and cool off, to keep from wandering to that blank space in his mind that would quickly shift to memories of their one time together.

  He scratched at his chin, his thoughts wandering anyway.

  Oh, Asher. You’re so, so, so— Her words had turned to a full-on howl-at-the-moon kind of moan before she’d sunk her teeth into the pillow as she orgasmed.

  He coughed into a closed fist and regrouped. “Don’t pretend you don’t hook up with guys and then leave them in the morning, never to call again.” You did it to me.

  Restaurant moo
d-lighting or not, he could see the rise of red edge up her neck and into her cheeks.

  Her attempt to clear her throat was less than subtle. He’d somehow gotten to her, hadn’t he?

  “I don’t have time for relationships.” Her lips depressed into a hard line. “Or casual sex,” she said in a lower voice a moment later. “But, that’s not any of your concern.”

  “Then why’d you tell me?” He cocked a brow, a smirk touching his lips.

  She drummed her nails on the table and her eyes pinned to his. “Where will you be heading Monday when Luke comes back to the office?”

  If only he had a bell to ring every time she changed the subject. Of course, he’d probably lose his hearing from the ringing.

  “Until we get another job, you mean?” His hands fell to his lap. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you ever going to pick a place to call home?”

  “I—” He lost his words when his gaze settled on someone across the restaurant.

  His brother-in-law was sitting next to someone other than Asher’s sister, and his damn lips were on the woman’s cheek. “What the hell?” he said under his breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Jessica turned in her chair to track Asher’s eyes.

  Asher shoved away from the table, the crowded place too noisy for anyone to hear the hard scrape of the chair legs against the floor.

  He started for Greg, ignoring the swell of chatter and flow of wine all around him.

  By the time Greg’s brown eyes connected with his, it was too late. Asher grabbed his arm and jerked him off his stool. He bunched his shirt in his hand.

  The sudden murmurs from people in the restaurant became dull background noise.

  “Are you cheating on Sarah?” The question whooshed out hard and fast.

  “What the fuck, man?” Greg surrendered his palms, his brows pinching together. “I’m not cheating on your sister.”

  Asher’s jaw tightened as his gaze darted to the brunette at the bar top table and then back to the two-timing asshole in front of him. “It sure as hell looks like it.”

  “Let him go.” Jessica’s fingers splayed at the center of Asher’s back.