Cade Rodgers threw back his beer and watched his teammates at the reception. The colonel and his wife had left over an hour ago, but the party was still going strong. It was a big shindig, with free-flowing booze and plenty of places to crash on the immaculate lawn. Gina Domenico Hunter threw one hell of a party, that’s for sure. But she also made certain no one had to drive anywhere if they couldn’t.

The kids had long since gone to bed, and some of the HOT operators who had children had also left with their wives and kids in tow. Ghost sauntered over from somewhere and flopped down in a chair beside Cade. He tipped his beer bottle and Cade tipped his own, clinking them together.

“Looks like a successful party,” Ghost said.

“Yes, sir,” Cade replied, mindful that Ghost was the second-in-command of HOT again. Or still, since he’d never been removed. “The colonel looked a bit stunned and a lot happy.”

Ghost laughed. “That’s a good way of putting it, Saint. I’m gonna have to agree with you there. Never thought I’d see the day when Viper got married.”

A couple of the other guys made their way over and sat down. Hacker and Money.

“You feel like we helped make this possible?” Cade asked them after a while.

Hacker grinned. “Hell, yeah. And it was satisfying as fuck to get the dirt on that prick DeWitt.”

They’d saved Delta Squad, implicated the veep in a scandal involving the Russian mafia, and made it possible for their colonel to clear his name. Yeah, that was something to be proud of all right.

“Got a tear in my eye when DeWitt resigned,” Money said. “Not.”

The guys laughed.

Hacker spoke. “I’ve been following the chatter on the dark web—Turov will probably be sentenced to death for having Anatoly Levkin murdered. The bad part of that is his son hasn’t been implicated in anything. He’ll continue the business, though maybe only the legit portions of it for now.”

Ghost snorted. “Don’t bet on it. The Turovs have paid off a lot of people—he’ll be back sooner than we like. But his father did something unforgivable in the eyes of the government, so they’ll make an example of him while leaving Mikhail Turov alone.”

Cade watched as a hot little blonde sashayed up to the bar in her too-tight strapless dress. The mounds of her breasts jiggled as she stumbled on her sky-high heels. He jumped up and went over to grab her arm, steadying her before she toppled to the ground. She turned her gaze on him. Pretty baby blues stared back at him.

She looked kind of familiar, but he wasn’t sure why. Then again, if she was at this wedding, it was entirely possible he’d seen her somewhere before. He just didn’t know where.

“Ooh, aren’t you tall, dark, and handsome?”

Not the first time he’d heard that. Women swooned over muscles and attitude—and he had plenty of both. “You okay, miss?”

“I am now.”

She leaned into him, her side pressing against his. Holy shit, he could see down her dress. The cleavage was spectacular. His mouth watered. He was totally a tits man.

“What’s your name, handsome?” she asked.

“Cade.”

“Hi, Cade. I’m Brooke. Care to have a drink with me? Please.”

She seemed uncertain in a way, as if flirting wasn’t natural to her. But then she smiled and shifted and he could see that cleavage again.

Hot, sexy, and totally fuckable. His cock was already starting to react.

“Yeah, I’ll have a drink with you, honey. As many as you like.”

She curled her arm into his. Her hot little body was spectacular. He was going to enjoy peeling that dress off her later. It wasn’t gonna be love between him and Miss Brooke whatever-her-last-name-was—but it sure could be fun.

Those warning bells clanging in his brain? Nothing to worry about.

He got her a drink—and himself another beer—and steered her toward a dark corner where they could talk and flirt—and maybe he could get a hand on those tits.

Before he could sit down, Iceman appeared, his expression thunderous. “No way, Saint,” he said. “Back off.”

Cade frowned. “I haven’t done anything.”

“No, but you were thinking about it.”

Dr. Grace Spencer hurried over then. “Brooke, sweetie—what happened? Are you okay?”

Oh fuck. Now it made sense. Brooke Sullivan, Grace’s best friend. That’s where he knew her from. The hot little blonde he’d seen from afar. The hot little blonde who’d once been kidnapped and nearly killed because some bad dudes wanted Grace’s research.

“Of course she’s okay,” Cade said. “She nearly fell, I got her a drink and helped her over here. I didn’t touch her.”

Grace looked up at him. “I believe you, but you need to go. Brooke’s not ready for this yet.”

“Ready for what? I was just talking to her.”

“It’s okay, Gracie,” Brooke said. “I met Cade and thought he was a nice guy. Nothing happened.”

Cade held up both hands. He was starting to get pissed. “Look, I don’t know what y’all’s problem is, but I’m out. It was nice to meet you, Brooke. Bye.”

He turned and stalked away, cussing under his breath. But a part of him wanted to go back, wanted to drag Brooke Sullivan away and talk to her one-on-one.

It wasn’t happening though. Not now, not ever.

For some reason, that thought made him feel emptier inside than usual. He shook it off and fished his keys from his pocket. Time to get out of here and get back to life as usual—eating, sleeping, fighting, and fucking.

It was enough. It had to be.

* * *

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