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Boone turned his attention back to me, sighing. “Does trouble have to follow you everywhere you go?”
Not about to admit that I created it on purpose more often than not, I put my hands on my hips indignantly.
“Strictly speaking, you brought this one here,” I drawled. “He claims to be here for a job interview but, assuming he hasn’t been washed out of the selection process already, I think I did your job for you and illustrated why he wouldn’t qualify based on our code of conduct.” Because I was right, and at that point the possibility of getting a good tussle in was pretty much zero—no way would Boone let me play at the office—I changed subjects. “Oh, and I figured out what we’re getting Maria for her birthday. We’re going to give her and her family a vacation on the East Coast. We’ll have to plan pretty quickly to get the right rental and in time for the whale migration, but I know she’ll love it.”
Boone ran a hand down his face, the picture of exasperation, but really, he grew up with me, so he should be used to my antics. “What did he do?” He pointed to the still bent-over man between us.
“This asshole? Besides being in a piss-poor mood, he called me sweetheart.” I might have to deal with misogynistic attitudes modeling, but at home, I could be myself. Me, myself, and I had little tolerance for shitty behavior.
“Well, then,” Boone nodded in sarcastic sympathy, “he totally deserved it.” Finally, he pulled me in for a hug, waiting until I squeaked in protest before kissing me on the head and pulling back.
I smiled at him and tilted my head back to give him a wink. “I’m glad you agree. Now, what are your thoughts on dinner?”
Chapter 3
Brody
Itookabreathbefore rapping on Keene’s door. The goddess at the front desk had certainly gotten me off balance, that was for sure. It shouldn’t surprise me that someone working for Accardi Tactical, paper pusher or not, would have at least the basics of self-defense, and I was a little ashamed to admit that I’d been thrown off by the stunning woman. Just because someone was pretty, or in her case, the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, didn’t mean they also couldn’t throw a punch or shoot a gun. I was ready to jump in to save her, the hero to her damsel in distress. At least until she’d risen from her chair. Her stance, the pen, and the look in her eye had all but screamed that not only could she take care of herself—a good and likely necessary thing considering the mouth on her and the package it was attached to—but that she had expert training. Most couldn’t size someone up that quickly, but I’d survived on this planet for thirty-three hard-as-fuck years by making quick assessments and believing my gut. They were necessities for someone like me, and they were skills I’d kept honed. They were also nagging me at that moment. I knew that woman from somewhere, but try as I might, I couldn’t place her. It was rare for me to forget a face or a name, and I couldn’t remember either in that case, but again, my gut jabbed at my brain, telling it to get in gear. Someone that beautiful was not forgettable, not by a man who had any brain cells and a healthy sex drive, at least.
Shaking my head to clear it, I banged my knuckles against the closed door in front of me, the irritation I felt at being summoned like a kid to the principal’s office coming back full force. Hearing a muffled yell, I opened the door and closed it behind me.
Keene, the second eldest in the Accardi clan, sat behind his desk, his suit jacket thrown carelessly across the back of his chair and his dress shirt rolled up his forearms. It always surprised me to see him in a suit—or the remnants of one. Whether it was because I was used to seeing him in uniform or he just never seemed like the suit-type, I wasn’t sure.
“You summoned,” I drawled, letting my deep Texas twang come out full force, and Keene rolled his eyes.
“Dramatic much?” he asked, looking away from his computer and hitting a button, blacking out the screen. I wasn’t offended—I wasn’t an employee, though not for lack of trying on his part. Rising, he stalked across the room, and I met him halfway, pulling it in for a bro-hug before we both flopped down into our respective chairs.
“Have a situation,” I repeated his text from memory. “Need to see you as soon as you can clear your schedule. Meet me at the office tonight or the training complex tomorrow morning.” My lip curled in humor. “You presumed an awful lot. For all you knew, I could have been backpacking in the Himalayas.”
Keene snorted. “Like you would take vacation time.”
I raised an eyebrow, “I haven’t done anythingbuttake vacation since I got out.” Six months of rehabbing and trying to get my head on straight.
Keene gave me a look, telling me he knew I was feeding him shit, but he would let it pass. “I guess you’re wondering why I asked you here.”
“No,” I deadpanned, “never had the thought. I just drove my ass an hour to see you ’cause I missed your ugly mug.”
Keene laughed, and I relaxed. If he still had his humor, no one was dead or dying. Oddly enough, we hadn’t been close when we served, though I was closer to him now than anyone else. We were part of different teams, and Keene got out a few years ago, but when I was released from the hospital and went home, he was the first visitor I had. Realizing that I didn’t have much—as in nothing—in the way of support, he stopped by several days a week, making sure I had groceries and didn’t drown myself down the bottle so far that I couldn’t pull myself out of it. After life started to look a little brighter, he made sure to bully me back into the land of the living. Hell, he continued to drag my ass to a monthly poker night with some of our mutual buddies.
Leaning back, he ran a hand over his hair. It was longer than I’d ever seen it, styled and cut in a way that screamed wealthy businessman instead of the military man I knew him to be. His blue eyes looked weary and confused. He barked out a laugh, but it was self-directed and had no humor. “I need to hire you.”
“You’ve been trying to hire me since I got my official discharge papers. My decision won’t change. I might work wellwitha team, but I don’t do well workingfora team.” Never again would I take orders from someone, even if it was someone I respected. My last assignment had resulted in several good men losing their lives and a few more of us lucky to still be breathing, all because two politicians got in a pissing match over territory neither of their countries had a claim to. And despite knowing the shitty situation, the commanding officer let us walk into a death trap without so much as a warning.
“No, not A.T.Ineed to hire you.”
I cocked my head. Accardi Tactical was widely considered the best advanced tactical training school in the country, if not the world. SWAT teams across the country came there to train, as did the Secret Service, and I personally knew that the wait list for top-tier operators to come in for additional training was a mile long. Not only did they hire the best, but they trained the best. Keene’s list of contacts was assuredly a who’s who of military and civilian contractors, again assuming he didn’t have over a hundred individuals on his payroll that could and would jump to do his and his brothers’ bidding.
He saw my expression and continued, “I have a situation brewing. At least, I think I do.” He looked a bit bewildered. “I have a family member who I believe needs additional protection.”
“And you can’t use your own company because …” I let the question hang in the air.
He snorted, his look of confusion still in place. “Two reasons, one making more sense to me than the other.”
“And,” I pressed again, feeling like I was pulling teeth. Keene was tight-lipped. His business and our past service made it a necessity, but he was being extra tight today. “Look,” I said when he hesitated again. “You asked me here, clearly needing help. But I can’t help you if I don’t understand the situation. If you don’t feel comfortable talking to me, I can leave, and we both can forget this entire day, no harm, no foul.” I offered the out, and I meant it. I didn’t want to deal with drama, and even knowing as much as I did told me it was a stickier situation than I wanted to get involved in. But he was already shaking his head.
“The first reason is that the family member in question apparently has it in their contract that neither A.T. nor anyone trained or employed by us may be hired on their behalf without their expressed permission, which will not be granted.”
I grunted. While I didn’t understand why, the reason itself made sense.
