Page 5 of Nothing Special X: The Last Stand

The TSA agent’s eyes widened before she motioned over a man—who looked like a regular customer at the airport Cinnabon—wearing a starched white shirt with a polished brass nameplate, badge on his hip, and supervisor stripes on his shoulders.

He put his hands on his hips and asked with bass in his command, “Sir, I’m gonna need you to step outta line and follow me into the private room behind me?”

Green closed his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling as if he was about to lose his shit…after he knocked out his partner.

He opened them again, staring straight at the agent who was now only a couple of feet away.

“I’m not stepping into any goddamn room. Because if you even think of sticking something up my ass, the next place that something’s going is in your fuckin’ mouth.”

“Jesus Christ,” Day muttered, half-laughing.

He knew how hostile that sounded, but it was too late to take it back.

His nerves were already strung tighter than piano wire. Then the thought of getting violated in a side room by some Jack Black lookalike before being loaded onto a flying coffin had pushed him off the cliff he’d been dangling over.

Before the supervisor could click on his radio and call for backup, God put his big arm up, catching his attention.

He flashed his badge, his deep voice carrying the kind of authority that made any man in an official capacity question his own.

“We’re law enforcement,” he said, turning to the rest of them. “You guys keep your damn mouths shut and show your badges.”

Everyone complied.

Day pulled his out with an annoyed huff. Free, Steele, and Tech did it while still laughing. Ruxs showed his with a shit-eating grin and a wink directed at him.

Green dug his badge out, glaring at his partner as if he said one more word, he’d dump his ass like yesterday’s garbage.

A TSA captain was summoned over. He stared hard at each badge, Green’s bad attitude, God’s bulk, then the group of them that were now clogging up the checkpoint, and decided they weren’t worth the headache, waving them through.

“See?” Ruxs muttered at Green as they grabbed their things. “A little comic relief got your mind off the flying, right?”

Comic relief!

Green cut him a glare that promised retribution.

God was last to step into the body scanner. The machine beeped.

Green was still bristling, especially when he saw the shift in the female TSA worker who’d given him such a hard time.

Her face had softened as she gazed at God. It was as if somebody had flipped on her erotic switch.

The agent batted her eyes and pointed at the badge still in God’s hand and the beanie on his head. “Um, those need to go in the bin.”

God tossed his badge in, slid off his hat with his usual maddening swagger, then ran one hand through his long thick hair.

The woman stared, biting her bottom lip as though she was trying not to voice her nasty thoughts.

Seriously? Green rolled his eyes.

God was the kind of ridiculous-hot that was infuriating.

At six-four, all muscle, intense green eyes framed by long lashes, and Fabio hair flowing down his back, made him look like some ancient war god disguised in Timberland boots and dark denim, traveling by way of Atlanta International instead of his chariot.

The agent wasn’t the only one gawking. The soccer mom behind him gave her pixie cut a self-conscious pat while she checked him out.

“Here we go,” Ruxs said under his breath to Day.

“Shut up,” Day muttered.