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Outside my door, Dallas and Griffin are already waiting. Both casually leaning against the wall in their dapper suits, only to straighten when we enter the hallway.
Mason never lets go of my hand as we ride down the elevator to the parking garage. I’m more than happy he does. I think if he didn’t, I would be nothing but a puddle of nerves right now as I stand in this small, enclosed space with three large, dangerous-looking men, going to a gala where people may or may not try to kill us. Having him hold my hand, his warm, strong fingers wrapped around mine protectively, gives me a much-needed confidence boost.
Ninety percent of that newfound confidence vanishes the moment the elevator doors slide open with a bing, and I see the limousine waiting a few feet away. The driver stands by its side, holding the door open for us. A limo? Really?
Mason must feel my appreciation because he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze while running his thumb over the back of my hand.
This whole situation is so freaking absurd. As I get into the luxurious cab of the limo, the only thing I can think about is that this is a dream. A very weird dream.
MASON
I knowNat knows what she’s doing when it comes to things like this. Her sense of style is unmatched. I expected Teagan to be in good hands today.
But I didn’t expect her to be this stunning. Dangerously stunning. Breathtaking—she could render a man unconscious with a single look—it’s probably safer to keep my eyes off her while we’re in the limo.
But that means I can’t see her, and I want to feast my eyes on her luscious body in a dress that looks like it was made for her. Every time she moves her head, the gleam from her diamond earrings grabs my attention. Her shining locks are piled high on her head and bring to mind a crown. Her long, slim neck practically begs to be touched by my lips. And I’m supposed to concentrate tonight?
“Should we have like code words?”
It takes a lot of effort to keep from wincing when she asks that. Griffin sounds like he’s choking on his tongue as he shoots Dallas a look that screams help.
Dallas clears his throat and glances my way for an instant before turning a tight smile toward her. “What did you have in mind?”
Her eyelashes flutter, and her throat works. The flush on her cheeks isn’t makeup. “Oh, I don’t know. I just figured maybe we would need a way to communicate without coming right out and, you know, maybe being overheard by the wrong people.”
Dallas’s mouth opens, and I jump in before he has a chance to ask what the hell she thinks she’s talking about. “You don’t have to worry about that. If you see anything out of the ordinary, you can just let me know.” I don’t want to hurt her feelings by mentioning we will most likely see something way before she does since we are the highly trained operatives here, and she is basically just bait. Just thinking about her like this has my stomach in knots. I hate this.
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“You won’t be required to do anything but post a selfie to social media,” Dallas explains. “Otherwise, we will need you to stay close to Mason and do as you’re told without asking questions.”
I suppress a snort. He may as well ask her to breathe underwater with no equipment. She even looks openly confused and insulted now. “I only want to help.”
“I know, and you are, trust me.” I turn to Dallas. “Did you get the EZ rack .380 I asked for?”
“Sure did.” He grabs a small black case from under the seat and hands it to me.
I open it and get the small gun out to load it with a high-capacity mag. I hand her the gun. She wraps her small fingers around the handle and pulls it from my grip a little too fast, making her fumble and almost drop it. Good thing it has two safeties on it.
“Oopsie.” She giggles while Dallas and Griffin groan quietly.
“You got a safety on the handle and one on the barrel,” I explain, showing her how to work both.
“Are you sure you want her to carry it?”
“You think I’ll do anything I’m not sure about?” I growl. His mouth snaps shut at the sharpness in my voice. “She’s new to all of this. She is trying her best.” He arches an eyebrow, giving me a curious look while taking a deep breath. Either he knows better than to retort or he figures his expression is enough to tell me how he feels about my outburst.
“Teagan, only use the gun when you absolutely need to. Any other time, keep it in your purse and listen to everything we say. We’re trying to keep you safe. If I tell you we’re going, we’re going. If I tell you to crawl under a table, you find the nearest table and get under it.”
And before she can make a big deal about that, I add, “That was just an example off the top of my head. I don’t predict you crawling around on the floor tonight.”
“Okay.” She seems to draw herself closer together like she’s shrinking.
All of that changes when the limo comes to a stop in front of the venue. Floodlights positioned along the structure’s exterior cast beams of light onto massive banners extending from the roof to the ground, featuring images of soldiers from all branches of the military. It’s a dramatic look, and between that and the well-dressed guests walking a red carpet leading inside, Teagan is awestruck once she’s out of the car.
“Think you can handle this?” I squeeze her hand, and it seems to bring her back to the present moment and away from whatever childhood fantasy she thinks is coming true.
“I don’t know.”
