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“Commercials are meaningless,” I said, stretching my foot out to rub against his chest on the other side of the huge tub. “Nobody ever saw someone’s Nike commercial and said,wow, I need that girl in my TV show.”
Rogan shrugged and took my foot in his hand. He began digging his thumbs into the arch, a deep massage that made me close my eyes and moan as loudly as I had during the earlier sex.
Okay, maybe not as loudly as that. But still pretty damn loud.
“I know why you like coming here,” I purred at him.
One of Rogan’s dark eyebrows rose. “Why do I likecominghere?”
“Because you have a nanny fetish. You want to bang the woman who’s taking care of your kids all day.”
“I have a Heather Hart fetish,” he replied smoothly. “You’re the only way I can get a hard-on.”
I splashed water at him. “Somehow I doubt that’s true. But I appreciate the lie. Speaking of lies, what did you tell the other dads?”
Rogan raised an eyebrow. “Other dads?”
“That’s what I’m calling you in my head. Thedads. Try to keep up. Where do they think you are right now?”
“I didn’t tell them anything,” he replied. “I just said I was going out for a while. Asher’s busy watching the kids, and Brady is scouting one of the guys who has been stalking Amirah Pratt. Neither of them are thinking about me at all.”
“Good,” I said. “Then you can stay a little longer and continue massaging my feet.”
He grinned and dug deeper into my foot. I sighed and relaxed back into the tub.
Just physical, I told myself.This has to stay just physical.
19
Brady
I was in the back seat of the car, hunched low while waiting for my target.
People thought a lot of things about the Navy SEALs. There were books about it, TV shows, and even movies. A lot of the information was bullshit. Sometimes exaggerated, and other times downplayed. Nobody knew what it was really like except those of us who actuallylivedit. Who put in the work and did the job.
But we were good at what we did. That much was true. Our missions typically required stealth and precision. Other fighting units acted like machetes, cutting through enemies in wide swaths. The SEALs were like a scalpel wielded by a master surgeon.
Clean, quick, and effective.
What I was doing now, hunched down in the back seat of a car? This was more like spy shit. I didn’t have a weapon on me. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I didn’t have aproperweapon like my sidearm. I just had a knife in my pocket, and nothing else. I was here to gather intel.
That was usually Asher’s gig. He liked that sort of thing. Me? I was fidgety. To me, five minutes sitting around felt like fifty.
While I waited, I thought about the kids. Especially the boys. It had only been a couple of days, but their behavior was improving. Don’t get me wrong—Dustin and Micah were far from angels. They were still little demons. But they were slightlyimproveddemons. From, like, one of the outer rings of hell.
Heather was perfect for the job, all right.
Rogan, Asher, and I got discharged from the SEALs before there were any women candidates. But I got to meet one a few years back who had just graduated from the Naval Special Warfare Preparatory School. This girl was a bad-ass of the first degree. She was able to complete the same BUD-SEAL Qualification Training program as the rest of us guys. Not easy while weighing forty pounds less than me. And from what I heard from her teammates, she didn’t takeanyshit from the guys, and dished it out with the best of them.
Heather reminded me of her. She was feisty, with a chip on her shoulder. She was the kind of woman who looked at everyone with an expression that says,I dare you to underestimate me.
I knew our kids were in good hands. She would be able to fix the terrible parenting job we had done so far.
Suddenly I saw my mark up ahead. He was exiting the building from one of the stairwell side doors, rather than using the front entrance. Sneaky fucker.
I ducked lower in my seat. This part of the parking lot didn’t have any lights, and I was totally veiled in darkness. I began counting out the distance in my head. I had already walked it myself: it took twenty-nine seconds to get from the stairwell door to the car. Plus or minus two seconds depending on his stride. I slipped the knife from my pocket and held it at my side.
Four, three, two, one…
