Bought His Life (12 page)

“You mean you’re straight?” Michiel’s eyes grew big with surprise. “You’re too pre— I mean, you’re too handsome to be straight. Plus, you’re so well-mannered.”

“Straight?”

“You know, straight. Like, you’re attracted to women?”

“Damn right, I’m straight. Is there a problem with my sexual preference?”

The two men on the bar stools leaned closer and whispered. “No, we don’t mind. But you do know this is a gay party?”

“Gay?”

“Homosexual,” Michiel clarified.

Jack matched their stance and lowered his voice. “Now who’s shy about… how’d you put it… opening the closet door?”

Smiling, Michiel straightened. “What are you drinking, Captain?”

“A beer,” he said, nodding to the bartender.

“Just a plain beer, sweetie?”

“Call me Jack or Captain, and we won’t have a problem,” Jack said to the man with spikes for hair.

“I hear you, Captain.”

Chapter Thirteen

Lawson woke up at six and looked at the woman who had slept through the night like she hadn’t slept in ages. She hadn’t noticed that he’d left for the briefing with Jack, but when he’d returned, she snuggled up against him like a kitten, waking only to make love again.

He hated leaving the slumbering beauty in his arms, but wanted to get his envelope and talk to Jack before she awoke.

After getting dressed, he grabbed the keys to the Mustang and the gun off the clothing chest. His gaze roamed over Kimber. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful, but he wondered what to do next. Should he tell her the truth about his past? And would she believe him? Would he lose her because of it?

He also had questions he wanted to ask, things he didn’t get around to last night for fear of upsetting her further. Who was after her and why?

As much as he wanted to know, he decided to let her sleep.

He left the hotel room and went to the lobby. Behind the desk sat a very tired, very hung-over Michiel, rubbing his temples.

“Michiel, you doing all right?”

Michiel looked up and smiled, then groaned as if smiling made his head ache. “Oh, hey, Lawson. Yeah, I’m okay. I guess I had too much fun. And you?”

Lawson thought about how he’d made love to Kimber and had lost himself in her, the urgency of his situation temporarily subsiding in her arms. “It was good. I was wondering, though, I need to find more clothes, but not the same as these, perhaps a bit lower in price.”

“If you’re not choosy about hand-me-downs, there’s some shirts and pants in my apartment out back that you and your friend can have.”

He gazed at the tight blue sleeveless shirt the clerk was wearing and raised his eyebrows.

“They’re not mine,” Michiel said in a strained voice, then winced. “They belonged to an ex. He dressed a little too conservatively for my tastes, but you’ll like his style. There’s a box in my closet with the name ‘Blake’ on it. Take the whole damn thing. He was a penis anyways.”

Lawson headed toward the rear exit. “Thanks, and I hope you feel better.”

Outside, he went to the car and grabbed the envelope. He took a deep breath and retrieved his key. Securing it around his neck, he glanced through the documents in the packet, noting that it contained his and the crew’s personal papers.

He was about to close the door when he saw Kimber’s large purse on the backseat, the contents scattered on the floor. Remembering that he had thrown the purse at her the previous evening, he leaned in and began putting the stuff back into her bag, knowing she’d probably want it when she woke up.

Hairbrush, toothbrush, deodorant, mirror, powder, phone, cigarettes, lighter… handcuffs?

Something shiny on the floor caught his eye. He dropped the handcuffs into the purse and reached for the golden object attached to a black leather case. He ran his finger over the circular star with an eagle perched on top. It was a badge.

“Drug Enforcement Administration, US Special Agent.”

His heart beat rapidly as he threw the badge case into her purse. Her badge had to be part of the reason for the two Spanish-speaking gangsters waiting for her outside the Bearded Cockle last night. If he hadn’t followed her there, she’d probably be at the bottom of the ocean with a couple of cinder blocks chained to her ankles.

He finished returning all her belongings to the gigantic bag she called a purse, well, except for one item—her wallet. He opened it hesitantly. He was invading her privacy, and that didn’t sit well with him, but he wanted to know more about the woman who had gotten under his skin.

He glanced through the pictures, stopping when he saw one of a young Kimber in a beige military uniform, her arm around a man wearing the same. Both wore helmets and had rifles slung around their shoulders. What drew his attention the most was the smile on her face. She looked so young, so innocent, so happy. He took the picture out of its holder and turned it over.

“Kimber and Scott. Camp Doha, Kuwait. 2002.”

He imagined modern wars being more dangerous than the one he’d experienced, and the idea of his woman running around the desert shooting bad guys as bombs exploded around her made his gut tighten. He grimaced. Why did she insist on having jobs that involved risking her life?

He stuffed the photo back into its holder. He’d see to it Kimber quit her job today and left Marathon with him as soon as possible. Once he got his retirement money out of Zurich, he would take her to a place where the Cosa Nostra and the US government would never find her.

The only thing left out of sorts was a folder. He didn’t remember it being in the car before. Did she have it in her purse, too? He glanced through it and exhaled, shaking his head.

Kimber thought their return to the present had been a drug run gone bad. She didn’t know it was him she was investigating. While he was searching her out, she’d been doing the same to him.

After placing the folder in the purse, along with his envelope, Lawson went to Michiel’s apartment and retrieved the box of clothes. Then he entered room thirteen to find Jack still there.

“Lawson, what the hell happened to you last night?” Jack demanded as he took the box and put it on the bed. “Why did you need to get back to the woman?”

“Long story, Captain.” He took the envelope out of Kimber’s purse and put it on the dresser. “Either way, my mission’s complete. I got my key back, and here are our personnel documents. The watch and notebook are still missing.”

“And the box?”

“It contains clothes we can use.”

Jack walked up to him and squinted. “Did you get the shit kicked out of you?” he asked, astounded.

Lawson imagined the area around his eye was bruised by now and probably looked pretty bad. “Another long story.”

“Well, I’m heading to work,” Jack said. “Walk me there and tell me about it. This has to be good.”

“All right. Just let me drop Kimber’s purse in her room.” He took the folder out and handed it to Jack. “But before we go, you might want to read this.”

* * * *

“Let them think it’s drug related,” Jack said. “It’ll make our mission easier.”

“I guess,” Lawson agreed, walking beside Jack, the fedora perched on his head. “How was your beer?”

“Not my typical party. Thanks for the intelligence on the crowd.” Jack glanced at a grinning Lawson, admitting that it had been a good setup for a laugh. “But the men were nice enough and a wealth of information on the locals.”

“Captain, you made any decisions yet?”

“I’m still assessing the situation. I don’t believe there’s any way for us to get back. The real question is whether we want to go back.”

“Honestly, no. I’m good here. I have nobody in the past waiting for me. I was set to retire after this mission. At least here, I have that feisty woman who keeps giving me the finger to figure out.”

Jack laughed as they walked. “I understand. But what about our interference influencing future events? Is our presence here proper? I have no one there, either. I only had an aunt who never married. She was in her sixties then, so she’s probably gone now.”

“Would you like me to verify it for you?”

“No. Sixty plus seventy just doesn’t compute right. Go play with that little firecracker of yours,” Jack teased.

“With all due respect, I think we both have firecrackers, and I think yours is walking this way.”

Jack had already seen Emily and had hastened his stride. “She is beautiful. I couldn’t ask for a better boss lady.” Raising his hand, he waved to the redhead. “Morning, Emily.”

Em waved back as she approached. “Good morning, Jack.” Smiling, she glanced at the man with him. “I didn’t realize you knew anyone in the Keys.”

“Lawson, this is my boss, Emily. Emily, this is a longtime friend and my current…roommate…Lawson.”

“You were in yesterday with Kimber.”

“Yes, ma’am. You serve a good cup of coffee.”

“Thank you.” She wrinkled her nose, trying to remember who had accompanied him.

“Well, pleased to meet you, Emily.” Lawson nodded courteously. “I need to get going. Have a good day.”

“Bye, Lawson,” Jack and Emily said simultaneously.

Lawson walked off, and Emily unlocked the door. “You’re early. Do you live nearby?”

“Yes, ma’am. We’re bunking at the Flaming Flamingo.”

A cold dread spread down her back. Jen always said she had no grip on the real world today. Jack at the Flaming Flamingo explained so much. No wonder he was a striking man.

Hiding her disappointment behind a smile, she nodded and exhaled slowly. Darn, all the good ones were either married or gay.

He held the door for her then followed her into the dark café.

“Jack, where are you from?”

“I was born in New York. Brooklyn to be exact. But my dad was a country boy at heart. He bought a farm, and we moved to Long Island before I started grammar school. Amongst other things, we grew potatoes. I spent the summers working in the kitchen of my mother’s restaurant. I can make any kind of potato dish your heart desires.”

“Home fries that aren’t greasy, but will hook my customers?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Yum, maybe you’ll make a batch for me today.”

“Your wish is my command,” Jack said and bowed at the waist.

She laughed at the irony of the situation. A man who sparked a flame long dwindling to nothing, a man who could cook one of her favorite staples nonetheless and a man who lived with another man.

“Shit! Just my luck!”

“Excuse me?” Jack called, swinging around the counter and retrieving two aprons.

Watching him reach behind his waist to tie his, she admired his T-shirt stretching across his muscled chest. “Nothing much. I was just thinking about something else. Do your parents still live on Long Island?”

“No, they passed away before I went into the service.”

“Oh, I see.” Emily could empathize. She had been right. He was ex-military, and like him, she, too, had lost her parents, quickly, one after the other while in high school.

“My parents passed years ago. I lost my dad to cancer, and my mom to a bad heart. Rather, a broken heart. She missed Dad so much. I considered joining the military after school, but life threw me some curve balls.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, caressing her with his gaze.

“Don’t be. It worked out well. I have the best thing a woman could want because of those pitches.” Emily couldn’t look at him. It hurt too much to see the caring in his gaze. Turning away, she put on a pot of coffee, searching for something else to do.

Jack whistled as if he had no care in the world, approaching her slowly. As if he’d done it thousands of times, he reached around her to stretch an apron across her middle, then tied it snug behind her back. She didn’t move.

“Any brothers or sisters?”

“An older brother,” she replied, and turned to look at him. Somehow, she managed to hold back the tears that filled her eyes and heart. “He was a DEA agent. Killed in a Miami drug raid years ago.”

“I’m sorry.” He gathered her into his arms and guided her head to his shoulder. “Sweet Emily, my sweet, beautiful Emily. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, stroking her hair.

Her chest rattled as she settled against him. She liked being there, in his arms, against his body. Jack sank against the crook of her neck and his breath heated her skin. If only he didn’t play for the other team, he’d be perfect.

Emily sniffled and pulled out of the embrace. He cupped her face and kissed her gently on each of her tear-streaked cheeks.

Wiping at the moisture pooled beneath her eyes, she smiled. “It’s weird how I cried for the first time in years with a man I just met.”

“I’m glad to be here for you.”

“Yeah,” she said, her chest rising and falling in a sporadic rhythm. “It’s something about your kind that makes us women comfortable. Thanks for listening.” She turned and reached for the coffeepot.

Placing mugs on the counter, he stood straight and met her gaze. “What happened to your husband?”

She stopped pouring the aromatic brew and laughed. But it wasn’t a sound of joy, more of disappointed sarcasm. “I’ve never been married. Jen’s dad was my high school sweetheart and my first lover. Unfortunately, he never recognized her as his child.”

Jack shook his head. “He got you pregnant and didn’t go through with the wedding?”

“He wanted me to get rid of the baby and act as if it never happened. Jerk.”

Blood rushed to his head, and his temples pulsed with a vengeance. “Asshole is more like it. You’re better off without him.”

“I know.” She brought the mug to her lips and took a sip. “My grandparents were very supportive and helped with Jen while I finished school. Then we moved here to be closer to my brother and give Jen a small town environment. The Keys weren’t as populated back then. Marathon has changed a lot in the past few years.”