Page 42 of Hot Target


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LESS THAN AN HOUR LATER, Luke sat at his kitchen table with Katie and her two men, Noah and Josh, and despite it being well after the midnight hour, he listened to plans to evaluate his security, as well as every person he’d ever come in contact with. Katie had a list of questions she’d reviewed with him and a spreadsheet of every player on the team. It was enough to have made Luke damn glad to have the distraction of a pizza delivery.

“I thought you baseball players only ate chicken breast and stuff like that,” Josh said, reaching for his fifth piece of pizza. He sported a buzz cut and clean-shaven jaw that said he’d shaved at least twice that day—obviously a habit formed in the SEALs. Noah, his older brother by five years, was an extreme opposite, with long, dark hair tied at his neck and a beard at least two days old.

“Hey,” Katie scolded. “You say that like he’s an alien from another planet.”

“Forgive him,” Noah said, giving Josh an irritated look. “Despite being incredibly smart, he can be an absolute idiot.”

“High-and-mighty asshole,” Josh grumbled under his breath about his brother, before flipping open a pizza box.

Luke laughed and exchanged an amused look with Katie. Luke finished off a fourth slice of pizza before slapping another loaded slice onto his plate. He’d forgotten how hungry good sex made him, he’d been in such a dry spell. “I do a five-day, clean-eating cycle. Five on, two off. Keeps me sane.”

“Whatever you do, man,” Josh said. “It’s working, so keep doing it. You rock out there on the field.” He snagged a piece of pepperoni from atop his pizza slice and swallowed it. “I’ll never forget that showdown between you and Crawford in game three of the playoffs. That had to be a sweet victory. Crawford talked all kinds of trash about how easy your pitches were to hit and then you shut him down flat.” A look of male appreciation filled his face. “How fast was that last pitch you laid on him?”

Luke shrugged, already halfway through his current slice of pizza. “He didn’t hit it,” he said. “That’s all that matters.”

“Ninety-five,” Noah said. “The pitch was clocked at ninety-five.”

Absently, Luke took a sip of iced tea. He’d been in his zone that day. He’d been in his zone all that season. “Which means if Crawford would have gotten a hold of it, I would have been screwed.” He set the drink down. “He would have flown it clear to my hometown in Texas. The man cracks a mean bat.” And Luke would face him again and soon. His gut twisted a little on that thought, a hint of self-doubt sliding into play. He didn’t usually let self-doubt surface—it was dangerous and destructive. So was the big ego that a lot of guys developed to hide from that doubt. There was a happy medium between ego and confidence and that was where Luke normally did well. It was part of his success.

“We’ll do our job, Luke, and take care of your security, so you can take care of Crawford,” Josh offered. “We’ll inspect your setup here and make it nice and tight.”

“I should have something from the lab on the letters by early in the week,” Noah said. “Maybe we can snag this perp before preseason is over. Give you that peace of mind before you face Crawford again.”

Josh chimed in again. “Rest assured, we’re a pretty good team ourselves. We’ll get the job done.”

The twist in Luke’s gut tightened, and he forced himself to respond nonchalantly, lifting his glass in a mock toast. “To getting the job done, on and off the field.”

He could feel Katie’s eyes on him as he clinked glasses with Noah and Josh. Luke placed another slice of pizza on his plate and stood up. He’d shown everyone to their rooms earlier. They knew where to go when they were ready and he wasn’t in the mood to play host. It’s not as if he’d invited them here. This was all forced on him.

“Unless you boys need tucking in, I’m hitting the sack. It’s been a long day.” He exchanged a few more words with the two guys, but not with Katie, who sat quietly, watching him, far too observant. She knew something was wrong with him. He sensed it. How the woman read him so easily he didn’t know. And he wasn’t sure how he felt about it, either.

He took the stairs quickly, found his door and was about to enter when he heard, “Luke!”

Turning, he found Katie hobbling after him with her stiff leg slowing her down. Part of him wanted distance from her right now. Another part wanted to hold her close. What he didn’t want was to wait for her to climb those stairs. Standing still seemed to twist the knots in his stomach harder. If not for the damn pizza in his hand, he would have gone after her and carried her the rest of the way to the top.

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