Vince followed Charlie’s lead—metaphorically and physically—as she let herself into Arturo’s house. No guards. No men with guns. They simply walked in without so much as a side-eye from the gardener pruning a row of hedges.
Vince drew his weapon, noticing that Charlie already had Gregor out, and glanced around the empty foyer. Not that he had much love for the old man, but finding her uncle’s dead body might push Charlie over the edge.
“Am I the only one who thinks this looks pretty damn ominous?” Vince murmured.
“But it makes sense if Anthony’s poaching staff from my uncle’s arsenal,” Charlie pointed out.
“Tina!” Arturo’s voice, followed by the sound of rolling wheels, bellowed from inside the library.
Charlie and Vince exchanged glances as they headed in that direction. Making certain to keep their guns hidden, but nearby if needed, they stepped into the room. Arturo rested heavily on a walker, a new addition since they’d seen him last.
“Charlotte.” Arturo glanced toward Vince, surprise written all over his face. “Forgive me, but I didn’t expect to see either of you again.”
“Because you told Vince it wasn’t safe for me here?” Charlie asked brazenly.
Arturo’s gaze snapped to Vince. He shrugged off the older man’s displeasure. “I don’t keep things from my fiancée.”
Fuck him sideways and upside-fucking-down. Arturo’s glare didn’t hold a candle to the one Charlie shot his way. Freezing fucking lava wasn’t an apt enough description and yeah, he’d earned every goddamn second of it. And probably more. Getting Logan to dig into her past was a colossal mistake, one he wasn’t sure how to rectify.
“Why did you think I’d be in danger?” Charlie transferred her attention back to Arturo and stepped into the room.
Arturo directed his walker to an overstuffed chair and, after a minute, the older man slowly sat. “Things are changing, and change sometimes unsettles people. Unsettled people do crazy things. And like I told your young man, some people see my shift in business as a detriment to their overstuffed wallets. They hope to change my mind.”
“Can they?” Vince asked, curious.
“No. And Anthony was supposed to make that fact unquestionably known amongst my old colleagues. I expected him here an hour ago to tell me how things went, but he’s yet to show.”
“You haven’t seen him at all today?” Charlie asked.
Arturo shook his head. “And it’s unlike him. He makes certain to give me daily updates.”
“Updates?”
Arturo sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Updates. I regret not starting the conversion when I was healthier so I could oversee it through to its conclusion. I’m too incapacitated to ensure everything is done that needs to be done. Anthony has been my right hand.”
“Anthony’s on board with the changes?”
“Initially? No,” Arturo admitted. “But he’s since seen reason.”
“What makes you say that?” Vince asked, beyond skeptical.
“Because this life has cost us both precious time with our family.”
Anthony, concerned about losing time with his son? The one he’d pointed a gun at an hour ago and threatened to blow a hole through if he moved even a fucking inch?
Not fucking likely.
Charlie glanced his way, her eyes telling him she wasn’t buying it either. “Where does Anthony like to be when he’s not here with you?”
* * *
Being on the receiving end of Charlie’s silent treatment put Vince in a foul mood. Follow it up with two hours of planting cameras at Anthony’s well-known haunts and being subjected to Brock Torres’s snarky-ass comments, and he was one dirty look away from assaulting a federal employee. And it would be a charge he’d accept with pride.
Yeah, he’d fucked up. He could own up to that. But instead of talking things out, Charlie had avoided him ever since they’d left Arturo’s place. He was twenty years past that childish shit. Hell, so was she.
“That was the last one,” Torres said of the camera they’d installed outside Anthony’s condo. He pocketed his cell. “Eric and Charlie already have the cameras online and recording, plus they’ve hacked into the city’s feed and got eyes on the dock. Everywhere. So far, we haven’t gotten any hits.”
“It’s not like we expected Anthony to take a stroll down Ocean Parkway.” Vince waited as a cabbie passed before crossing the street to the truck, Brock following. “Our resources will be less stretched once the rest of our team gets here. We’ll mix tech power with good old-fashioned man power. In the meantime, we should head back to the hotel.”
Torres cocked up an eyebrow. “You sure you want to do that, friend? If I know Charlie—and I do—a few hours isn’t enough for her to work through all her mad.”
Vince clenched his jaw until his teeth creaked. “You knew the Charlie from years ago. I know the one now.”
“So you’re saying the one back at the hotel isn’t researching the best way to fry your balls?” Torres shook his head and laughed. “Amateur. Going behind a woman’s back about anything is fucking stupid. Going behind Charlie’s is a fucking death wish.”
“Says the man who kept shit from her too,” Vince pointed out.
“Yeah, but we haven’t exactly been pen pals over the course of the last few years, much less fuck buddies.”
Vince snapped. Grabbing Brock’s shirt, he propelled him against the truck door with a loud thud, and got right into the DHS agent’s face. “Talk about her like that again and I’ll rearrange your pretty-boy face. You have no fucking clue what’s between us or what she means to me.”
“Does she?” Brock asked bluntly. He didn’t flinch or twitch, even when Vince pushed him against the truck again before releasing his hold altogether.
Vince saw a kaleidoscope of fucking red, and through it, Torres’s goddamn knowing smirk.
Torres casually fixed his shirt, still fucking grinning. “Judging by the look on your face I’d say not. Treating her like a plaything isn’t exactly the way to show a woman you care.”
“Fuck you.” Vince stepped back before breaking the shithead’s nose started looking like a good idea.
“No, fuck you. At least I’m man enough to admit Tina’s it for me. I’ll level the entire goddamn city to make sure I get her back safely. And then no way in hell am I going to let her go—no matter what Daddy Dearest or the department may think.” Brock looked him dead in the eye. “Because that’s what you do when you love someone, asshole. You trust your woman to know what she can handle. You support her when she tells you what she wants to do—even if it’s making a name for herself in the sex club industry. Can you say you’ve done the same thing?”
“Charlie’s my partner, isn’t she?” Vince nearly growled out the words.
“Chosen by your boss, not you. Right? If you don’t want to admit it to me, at least admit it to yourself. You don’t truly see her as an equal…or else you wouldn’t have gone behind her back. You would’ve let her tell you in her own damn good time.”
Vince didn’t say a word. But he hadn’t looked into her past wasn’t because he’d believed her helpless, or an incapable operative. God—and the rest of the team—knew she’d handed him his ass a time or two…or a dozen.
He’d done it because, despite all his best efforts to avoid it, he saw her as a hell of a lot more than a teammate. She was the woman he wanted in his life—as his teammate, his lover…his future. And that’s what you did for the woman you were falling for—you protected her at all costs. You put yourself on the line. You made tough choices, sometimes at the expense of yourself.
Except Charlie wasn’t just any woman.
She was his woman. And his woman would sooner kick an ass than kiss it.
* * *
Charlie needed a bottle of ibuprofen and possibly a life vest, because she was sinking and sinking fast into the pile of shite that kept dropping in their laps. Even with the rest of the team having shown up an hour ago, nerves started attacking her patience. She tried telling herself it was because of what was on the line, but that went out the bloody window when Brock and Vince stepped into the suite.
One look at him, even if it was a glare, and she breathed a little easier. He headed straight for Stone and, along the way, his gaze landed on her.
She didn’t even bother looking away. Yes, the silent game was childish, but she didn’t know what the hell to say. He’d gone behind her back, hadn’t trusted her ability, but he’d also cared. He’d have to be high to think she wouldn’t eventually find out and make his life miserable, but he’d done it anyway.
“Wow.” Logan shivered at her side. “Did it get cold in here, or is it just me?”
Charlie ignored the Marine’s dramatics and nodded toward the second desk, where Eric was monitoring the newly placed cameras. “I’m not discussing the temperature with you, Callahan. Go help Eric.”
“Then how about a future weather forecast?”
Charlie threw him a glare, enjoying when he squirmed. “You want a weather forecast? I can give you your own personal forecast—dim and gloomy, with my foot up your arse.”
Logan chuckled. “Damn, darlin’. You have a way with imagery. You know that?”
It might have been a bit harsh, but at the moment, her feelings were still a bit sore that someone she called a friend would hop on the Vince-doesn’t-believe-in-Charlie bandwagon. In her haste to go anywhere that didn’t have a Neanderthal caveman presence, Charlie twisted too damn fast. The gash on her torso protested, making her hiss. And of course, Chase’s medic eyes caught it.
He came over, nodding to her side. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I turned weird. It’s fine.”
“That’s the cut from the knife?” Of course he knew about it. Everyone seemed to know her business. He cocked his hands on his hips, staring at her with those penetrating blue eyes, reminding her of a rugged-looking Bradley Cooper. Tough enough to kick any ass, but with a smile that could melt panties everywhere. “We can do this the easy way, which is you realizing I’m going to nag you to death until you let me check it out. Or we can do this the hard way.”
“What’s the hard way?”
Chase grinned. “Probably with my ass on the floor—but I’m still checking out that cut.”
“I’m already taking the antibiotics Shay prescribed. Are you saying the good doctor doesn’t know how to do her job?”
It was a low blow because Charlie knew the trauma doctor and Alpha’s resident “doc” didn’t always see eye-to-eye.
He seemed unfazed, not taking the bait. “I’m saying sometimes even a broad-spectrum antibiotic isn’t enough to keep away an infection. Or maybe what it needs is a stitch or two.”
“You’re not going to leave it alone until you check, are you?”
Stone stalked over, hearing the conversation. “No, he’s not. And now it’s an official order. Let Doc check it out.”
Chase, obviously knowing he’d won, nodded to the kitchenette. He tugged out a chair and forced her to sit as he peeled away the old bandage and inspected the cut with a critical eye.
“I don’t think it’s infected.” Chase gave it a poke. “But it does need a little something to keep the edges together.”
“No stitches,” she grumbled.
Chase sighed. “Fine. But I’m going to clean it again and, at the very least, put on some fresh butterfly bandages. You do realize this is going to scar, though.”
“I’m not entering any beauty pageants anytime soon. Just do your thing so I can go do mine,” Charlie ordered grumpily.
Someone else joined them in the kitchen. Charlie didn’t need to look up to know it was Vince. It was like the air in the room thickened, making her work harder for each breath.
“What’s wrong?” Vince’s boots stopped right next to Chase, and still Charlie refused to look at him.
“Down, boy.” Chase placed the last of the Steri-Strips on the gash before covering it with a fresh bit of gauze. “Just doing a little housekeeping and making sure our girl didn’t do any additional damage.”
Brock came over, and instead of watching the first-aid process, gave her exposed tattoo a good look-over. “Your pink’s fading. When all this shit’s done and over, you need to come back to the shop and I’ll freshen you up. I’ve been dying to get a glimpse of the whole thing anyway, just gives me more of a reason.”
“Like fucking hell,” Vince growled.
Furniture moved. A chair overturned. Someone, who sounded like Chase, dropped a few curses. The two men were nearly nose to nose. Again. And Brock didn’t shy away. He grinned—the jerk—knowing he was pushing Vince’s buttons.
This time, Charlie didn’t get between them. She threw up her hands, giving them each their own separate glare. “You know what? Have at it. Beat each other senseless. Pull out your juniors and have a measuring contest. I don’t care! I have enough on my plate right now without having to deal with the two of you acting like oversized toddlers.”
Her outburst temporarily earned her Vince’s attention. “We need to talk, English. Still.”
“Anthony and the girls first. And then when the real work’s done, we’ll talk about why you’re a misogynistic arse.”
Charlie fled. The bathroom wasn’t far enough, but it was the only option. Closing the door behind her, she leaned against the sink and focused on her breathing. Pull in. Push out. Just like Vince had taught her to do during her tai chi lesson.
When did things get so complicated?
Oh, that’s right.
Sex.
With Vince.
Charlie stared at her reflection, and finally admitted, “It wasn’t just sex.”
One breath quickly came after another, and not too much later, the tingles came—her fingers, her nose. Her entire body vibrated…
It was why she wanted to dropkick him to the ground, and then kiss him until they both passed out. It was why her chest ached at the thought of Vince not believing in her.
It had never been just sex.
That was what she’d told herself to put her mind at ease, and maybe, subconsciously, make her see what had been in front of her face since the first day Vince walked into Alpha, all arrogant and grumpy, and with an innate ability to drive her bloody crazy.
It was because she was falling—hard.
Or, more worrisome—she’d smacked into it face-first and hadn’t realized it until that moment.
The bathroom door opened, and the object of her impending panic attack stepped into the small space, making it smaller as he closed the door behind him. “Hiding isn’t going to make any of this go away.”
Charlie, still fighting for each breath, jutted her chin toward the door. “But it delays it. Get out.”
“No.” Vince staunchly folded his arms and planted his feet. “I’ve let this slide for too long as it is.”
“And I say it needs to be even longer.”
She slipped past him and grabbed the door. When it was only an inch open, his hand smacked it shut. She whirled on him, ready to shout her way out, when he leaned close, effectively caging her in place.
There hadn’t been time to readjust her big girl panties before he’d come storming in, oozing caveman goo all over the place.
“Let me out.” Charlie’s demand sounded less bossy and more…hopeful. Hopeful that he’d keep to his status quo and be his typical pain-in-her-arse self. “We’re not doing this right now.”
“Yes, we sure as hell are!” His outburst surprised them both. Vince waited a few beats and looked to be trying to pull himself together. “It’s killing me, English. Seeing you look at me like…like I don’t know what. I feel like I’m having a fucking heart attack.”
That made two of them. Charlie stayed quiet, not knowing what to say or how to respond to the emotion darkening his eyes—a lot of bloody emotions, and all ones that she could understand. The confusion? She had it, too. The anger? Two-for-two. The need? Definitely there.
The soul-ripping pain?
As if thinking about it, the harsh throb positioning dead center in her chest intensified.
No doubt about it. She felt that straight down to her soul.
Vince took her silence as an invitation to continue, and he did, locking her in his gaze and holding on. “You once accused me of being closed off, and you know what? You’re fucking right. The one time I let my emotions get the best of me, one of my brothers was killed. His wife is a widow. His daughter’s going to grow up without her old man breathing down her neck. All because I couldn’t keep my shit together.”
Seeing him still torturing himself over what had happened clawed at her throat. “It wasn’t your—”
“Fault. Yeah, I get it. Logically. But that shit’s going to live with me forever, and the last thing I wanted was to load it on someone else—or worse…let it happen again.” Vince’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to form more words. “It doesn’t excuse going behind your back, but that’s where my head was at. I knew something happened to you. I could see that dark shadow in your eyes because I recognized it from my own. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. It’s that I wanted to protect you.”
“I’m your teammate. An Alpha operative. I don’t need your protection,” Charlie mumbled softly.
“No, but you deserve it. You’re more than my teammate, Charlie.”
A warmth she’d never expected blossomed in her chest at the use of her name. Vince’s knuckles, slightly roughened, slipped up the length of her cheek until he palmed the side of her face. Charlie couldn’t help but lean into the touch.
“Since I signed my discharge papers, I haven’t had much of a problem keeping my shit together,” Vince admitted. “I hauled in my scum and collected my payment. Even when everything went down with Penny and Honduras, my head stayed on straight. The only time I ever feel remotely like the man who made that bad call is when you walk into my line of sight.”
Charlie furrowed her brows. “I’m not exactly sure if that’s supposed to be a compliment or not.”
His lips kicked up at the corners, and his fingers smoothed out her wrinkled forehead. “It means you wake me up, English. I’m more than aware you got your shit going on, babe, but the mental image of you in a dangerous situation—physically or emotionally—freaks me the fuck out.”
For the first time in her life, Charlie didn’t have a snappy retort. She could flip his words around and recite them herself, and they’d still be true, because it was how she felt about him. It wasn’t a sexist thing.
It was a caring thing.
“I went and saw Dawn like you suggested,” Vince said, surprising her yet again. “And you were right. She doesn’t blame me for what happened, and looking her in the eye and seeing it for myself gives my nightmares a hell of a lot less power than they had before.”
“Can you say that again?” Charlie asked, breathless.
Vince cocked up an eyebrow questioningly. “Which part?”
“The part about me being right.”
Vince’s lips twisted up in a small smirk, and his thumb continued to caress her lower lip. “You were right…and I’m hoping that since I haven’t been kneed in the groin, I’m forgiven for being a caveman?”
Charlie pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side, as if debating. “Maybe. Partially. It’s still pending.”
“You realize it’s going to be a work in progress, right? I’m more than likely going to fuck up again because I can’t flip a switch and stop worrying about you. I want to protect you. In the field. From our pasts.” Vince’s throat bobbed nervously, his voice somewhat shaky. “Fuck. Are you going to say something sometime soon?”
There was a lot to say—except her words probably wouldn’t come out as eloquently as his had. “You freak me the hell out, too, Navy.”
And she was pretty sure she was falling in love with him.
Vince’s face went blurry, and it took his thumb swiping across her cheek to realize it was due to falling tears. And then the damn man kissed the next drop away…and the next. With each brush of his lips, Charlie’s emotions swelled.
“Damn it, Vince.” Grabbing his face between her palms, she pulled his mouth to hers.
The kiss started sweet, turning salty from her tears. But at the first gentle swipe of Vince’s tongue, it went supernova. His arms slid around her waist as he crushed her body to his.
Needing to touch him more, she skated one hand beneath his shirt, taking the time to brush against his piercing. “I need this off. Now.”
A low growl rolled from Vince’s throat moments before he followed through with her demand. He tossed his shirt aside. A few seconds later, hers joined his on the floor.
Vince slipped his fingers into the cup of her bra, pulling it down far enough for a nipple to escape. “You’re so bloody gorgeous.”
A smile quirked up her lips. “You getting British on me?”
“No other term seemed quite right.” He curled his tongue around the exposed bud before giving it an erotic flick.
Charlie clutched the back of his head and panted, half-heartedly, letting reality slip into the bathroom. “This isn’t a good idea…the guys…out in the main room.”
“The only one out there right now’s Eric, and he’s wearing a headphone and geeking out over the facial programs. Everyone else hit the streets as extra pairs of eyes.”
Charlie froze. “They’re gone? Then maybe we should—”
Vince brought his mouth back to hers. “Do exactly what we’re doing…followed by a nap. You got maybe an hour last night and not all at one shot. You can’t possibly be on top of your game when you’re exhausted.”
“My mind’s too wired to sleep right now.”
He gave her a drugging kiss that fluttered her eyes closed. “Then I’m going to continue loving every inch of you until you can’t keep your eyes open anymore.”
“But—”
“Mind off, English.” He kissed her again. “I need to have you in my arms right now, baby.” Kiss. “Your pleasure in my hands.” Kiss. “I need it so. Fucking. Bad.” Kiss.
Charlie needed all of that too. She unclasped her bra and relished the way Vince’s gaze devoured her whole. His hands slid over her torso, dropping to her hips, and guided her in a spin that propped her back against his chest.
“I’ve wanted to taste every single one of these flowers for over a fucking year.” Vince pushed her hair off her neck, and while their eyes locked in the mirror, flicked his tongue over the largest tattooed cherry blossom.
Down the length of her back, he followed the trail of brown branches and pink flowers as it curved around her torso and over her hip. Slowly, he eased her back around. Looking up at her from his spot kneeling on the floor, Charlie nearly melted.
“Looks like I have one more flower to go,” he teased gruffly.
“Looks like.” She rested her hand on top of his head as he steadily worked open the front of her jeans and slid them down—panties and all—never once breaking eye contact.
Vince ran his hands over her ankle and up her calf, kissing his way up her thigh until he hooked her knee over his broad shoulder.
In this position, she was open and vulnerable…exposed as he lowered his mouth to the lone blossom flowering a few inches above her mound. The leg not draped over his shoulder trembled, threatening to give out as his lips caressed her already aching clit.
“I got you, babe.” Vince anchored his hands on her thighs. “Just lean back and enjoy.”
Charlie moaned, her head falling back. “No problem there.”
Vince took her to some kind of pleasure dimension, first licking and then sucking, kissing her damp lower lips as he’d kiss her mouth. When her muscles tightened and prepped for release, he backed off and did it all over again. The result left her sweaty and panting, with both hands clutching his head.
“Don’t stop,” she pleaded on a moan. “Sweet heaven.”
When he swiped his tongue through her folds, he picked up the pace. He nibbled and sucked until her hips lifted, chasing his mouth. Vince rubbed the flat of his tongue over her clit, and Charlie’s pleasure went airborne. Her body clenched and released at the same time, coaxing out a keening moan that nearly made him come in his pants.
With a smug look twisting his lips, Vince got to his feet. “Heaven, huh?”
“Cocky bastard.” She grabbed his nape and dragged his mouth down to hers for a hot, languorous kiss. “Don’t go looking for compliments, Navy.”
Chuckling, Vince palmed her ass and guided her jelly legs around his waist. “If you’re still able to talk in full sentences, you’re not tired enough.”