Page 12 of Rescuing Brinley

Brinley pressed play on the remote and settled back into the corner of the couch to watch the show she’d stopped to have their talk.

The truth was, she was looking forward to Fiji. She loved what she did, but lately had been feeling a bit lonely. Cypress was the best roommate, but she wanted more. Which was kind of ridiculous, because in order to find someone she might want to date, she had to leave the apartment. Problem was, when she did, she had to deal with rude people who stared at her a little too long.

She thought she’d left behind all her bullies after graduating from high school, but the internet had made people more comfortable with being assholes in public.

Hiding her sigh, she tuned out the show and got lost in her head. Thinking about that beach trip Cypress had talked about. Fantasizing about a cute man tripping in front of her…she’d help him pick up the things he’d dropped, and he’d be overwhelmed by her kindness and personality and ask her on a date. Then he’d take her to his room after dinner and make long, slow, passionate love to her, worshiping her body, before ultimately asking her to marry him and carrying her off into the sunset.

It was utter bullshit; none of that would ever happen. One, because she wasn’t stupid enough to do any of it, especially go back to some stranger’s hotel room. That’s how women ended up dead. But it was nice to think about anyway.

She had no idea what the trip would bring, but it wasn’t true love. More likely, Brinley would stay up late each night doing alterations, spend her daylight hours trying to avoid her sister and mom, and leave Fiji needing to sleep for days because of sheer exhaustion.

But it would be worth it. Diamond Sash Designs would hopefully gain a dozen new clients and she’d be busy for years to come. The amount of money she charged for one of her dresses was obnoxiously high, but women paid it without blinking.

Later, after the show was over and she’d said good night to Cypress, Brinley lay in bed, thinking once more about the what-ifs. Wondering if there could possibly be a guy out there who might ever love her the way she’d dreamed.

Probably not.

But hope was a funny thing. It refused to die.

Tomorrow was another day.

A fresh start.

If nothing else, the trip to Fiji would break her out of the rut she’d been in for quite a while now.

CHAPTER THREE

Overall, the assignment in Fiji wasn’t bad.

Most of the women at the competition were wholly focused on the pageant and didn’t pay much attention to the seven big men who were constantly around.

So far, the Delta team hadn’t had any complications. But they’d just received intel that hinted at something brewing. Something big.

Now the team was on high alert and Vice President Roling had been informed that if there was a need to evacuate, he and his wife and daughter would be removed from the area without delay.

Ayla was a beautiful kid. Shadow said “kid” because at eighteen, she seemed incredibly young to him. Certainly much younger than his forty-year-old self. Even though she must be deeply entrenched in the world of politics because of her father, she still seemed naïve. Completely focused on things like makeup, shoes, handbags, and, of course, fancy ball gowns.

Shadow didn’t understand the alure of pageants. Yes, the women were considered beautiful, but they were all too…perfect for his taste. Untouchable. He couldn’t imagine any of them doing anything like riding an ATV through the mud, getting on the floor to play with shelter animals—as he loved to do, when he volunteered at the local shelter back in Fairbanks—or going sledding in below-zero weather, hanging around a large fire to warm up afterward.

He might’ve been brought up in Phoenix, but he’d embraced living in Alaska. Loved being outdoors. Even the arctic training he and his team conducted was fun for him.

This? Standing around watching women gossip, and talk about the other contestants’ clothes, and try to interpret the judges’ every look and gesture, all while not allowing one hair out of place and with fake smiles on their faces—just in case they were critiqued while not on stage—made Shadow ache to have a conversation with a real person.

The very few women who’d approached him spoke as if reading from a script. Reciting words that someone else, probably a pageant coach, clearly thought they should say, not what they actually thought. Shadow didn’t engage, partly because he was on the job…and partly because he preferred the people he conversed with to be more genuine.

And while hunting down terrorists and HVTs might be dangerous, at least those people were honest about what they wanted. Even if that desire was his death or the end of those who didn’t have the same ideologies as they did.

Pageant treachery? Next. Level.

“You’re thinking really hard over there,” Echo mused, as they stood in the back of a cavernous room while contestants took turns practicing for the talent portion of the event. They were on guard for anyone who looked as if they didn’t belong. Who didn’t have the right credentials. For trouble. They’d been assigned to Ayla for the day, and since she was in the room waiting for her turn to practice, that’s where they would remain.

“I’ll just be glad when this is over,” Shadow told his friend. The rest of his team was with the VP and his wife, who were on a private tour of the island. The Secret Service members were sprinkled around the area as well, constantly gathering data and staying on the lookout for anything hinky that might be happening or in the works.

“I can’t believe you!”

The four simple words were filled with hatred and loud enough for just about everyone in the big room to overhear.

Shadow turned his head in time to see one of the contestants get all up in another women’s space. She was jabbing a finger at her repeatedly, almost poking the woman’s face as she spoke. He could no longer hear what was being said, but it obviously wasn’t anything good. The contestant’s face was red, and she looked ready to explode.