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He gaped as if he was shocked that she’d said something so terrible about him. “Babe, it’s nothing like that. I’ve been missing you for months.”
“Are you going to try to tell me that you didn’t have sex with anyone else between January and now?”
He stuttered and floundered, then finally pointed at her. “You going to try to tell me you didn’t want to? I saw your ‘bodyguard’ here, all shirtless and cozy, but I’ll make love to you so much better than he ever could.”
It was official. She was going to punch him—right after she puked. “I told you, Zy didn’t touch me. And you’re not going to, either. Good night.”
She turned and slammed the door between them, grateful it had a lock that Cash was both too stupid and too lazy to pick.
Tessa had barely taken a step toward her waiting bed when she heard him hiss, “Bitch.”
Then the squeak of the sofa told her he’d flopped down onto it, tuned into football again, and tuned out adulting. In that moment, she feared she’d made a horrible mistake.
September 8
Tessa raced to the office fifteen minutes early, shoved her purse in its secure drawer, set her laptop on her desk, then she dashed down the hall to the conference room. All seven men looked up as she entered, eyes hollow with lack of sleep, five o’clock shadows all around, and the scent of testosterone thick in the air.
“Anything new?”
Just before quitting time the previous Friday, Hunter had received a call from his dad. Someone inside Emilo Montilla’s organization had firsthand knowledge of One-Mile’s location, almost three weeks after he’d been taken captive. It was sketchy…but it was something.
“The inside source says Walker is still alive,” Hunter said. “No mention of his condition, though.”
Still, alive was alive. They still had hope of recovering him. Hearing that, Tessa was happier than she had been in a month, especially after a tense weekend with Cash.
“But it’s good news! Do you know where he’s being held yet? Do you have a plan?”
“No. The informant has dripped information out as she’s able. We’re hoping to know more today.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Logan shook his head. “We’re in a holding pattern. Stay near the phones, just in case. If we need help with arrangements, we’ll let you know.”
“Of course. You guys look like you’ve had a long weekend. Do you want me to order in some breakfast?”
Joaquin nodded, and Tessa was surprised when he actually spoke. “Probably a good idea. If the informant holds to pattern, we should hear more soon.”
“I’m on it.” It was a small contribution, but one she could make. Still, Tessa hated that it wasn’t enough.
When the news had come in that someone inside Montilla’s current compound wanted to talk and would start spilling details soon, she’d organized the bosses and the team, using their conference space as a war room for an all-hands-on-deck weekend. She’d ordered food and water in, then told them to call her if they needed anything else.
But she hadn’t been able to stay. She couldn’t trust Cash alone with Hallie for more than ten minutes, much less a whole weekend. Besides, according to him, his “super important” game for work wrapping up was more critical than her job. Apparently, the fact a man’s life might be at stake was irrelevant. Or maybe he only felt that way because she was a female and wouldn’t be doing the actual rescuing.
So she’d worried and paced her living room most of the weekend, calling in frequently to check on the crew. But she hadn’t been there, and it made her feel derelict in her duty.
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Thanks.” Hunter nodded absently before turning back to a satellite map on the big screen.
Before she left the conference room, she caught sight of Zy staring at her—his gaze touching, lingering, burning. Tingles flared through her body, from her aching nipples to the needy tug between her legs.
God, why did she still want this man so badly? Why couldn’t she get over him?
They hadn’t spoken a single word, except those necessary to accomplish work, since that horrible afternoon Cash had blurted the fact he’d moved into her place. Tessa knew what Zy must be thinking. More than once she’d nearly divulged that she wasn’t sleeping with her ex. But she always stopped because it didn’t matter. He had probably found someone to rub bodies with—maybe Madison again—and who could blame him? Even without the clutter of others in their lives, he was contractually beyond her reach.
“Earth to Garrett. What are you doing?” Hunter asked. “Bring it in. Next communication is incoming.”
“Yeah,” he told the others as he sent her one last glance before he turned away.
The bosses all directed their watchful stares on her. She could feel their warning. Don’t step over the line.
