Bronco's Rough Ride (Bad Boys of Beta Squad, 0.5) (12 page)

Bronco cleaned himself up and got out of the shower. He had to shake her out of h
is mind or call her. Except she’d gotten a new phone three weeks ago. John ignored the little voice stating he could call the Las Vegas PD directly. Hell, he could even ask for Detective Dabner if he couldn’t face Jarvis. He groaned in derision as he pulled on his utilities before heading toward the mess hall for chow.

Brav
o squad had just returned from a short training op to help the team and him mesh their skills. They’d finally found their rhythm and trust despite the recent loss of a squad member in Honduras. Bronco had taken the fallen man’s place.

John finished his meal and
headed for the squad’s HQ, his memories full of Lindsey’s smile and her soft breasts against his back as she helped him through his detox. Crossing the threshold, he removed his cover and tucked it under his arm, wishing he could easily do the same to Lindsey.

Damn, you’re pathetic. Either find her or let her go.

“Andrews.”

Br
onco’s thoughts shattered as Lieutenant Commander Whittleton’s voice intruded. John shifted direction into the commander’s office.

“Yes, sir?”

“You know someone by the name of Detective Lindsey Jarvis?” Whittleton raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, sir. She was the undercover LEO who I worked with in Vegas, sir. Why?” John tried to ignore his excitement at her name.

“The front gate called. She’s at the visitor’s center right now asking for you. Did you leave any unfinished business in Vegas, Chief Petty Officer?”

“
No, sir. Detective Dabner said the DA would be calling you, sir, and Jarvis had been moved to the sex-crimes unit. All our official business was cleared up when I left three weeks ago.” But he wanted to revisit the unofficial business.

“Hmm.” Whittleton eyed him carefully for a few moments. “Go see what she wants, Chief. Just remember
Bravo squad is scheduled for another training at oh-four-hundred on Monday.”

Bronco gaped. “Are you giving me leave for the weekend, Commander?”

“You got a problem with that, Andrews?”

“No, sir.” John saluted smartly. “Thank you, sir.”

“Dismissed.”

Bronco retreated so fast he damn near bounced off the walls as he headed for the door.
What is she doing here? Who the fuck cares?
His thoughts ricocheted as much as his heartbeat as he caught transport to the Coronado visitor’s center. He could barely hold a polite conversation with the young civilian driving and caught the muttered, “arrogant jackass” as he got out. Bronco couldn’t care less. Lindsey Jarvis had come to Coronado, and he’d be damned before he wasted words on anyone before he said what he wanted to her.

John had to stop and inhale deeply a few times before enough calm filtered into his body and expression. He pulled the visitor center doors open and headed toward the information desk
as he jerked his cover off his head. A school group huddled around the naval history museum, listening intently to a theatrical petty officer explaining the role of Coronado in World War II, and a few families waited in the recruitment area with their hopefuls. The young men and women looked nervous.

“Good morning, Chief Petty Officer. Can I help you?” The pretty clerk gave him a wide smile.

“Yes. I’m John Andrews. I understand I have a visitor?” He tried to keep his gaze fixed on the woman in front of him, but he kept scanning the immediate area through his peripherals.

“Let me just check. Andrews you said?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Damn, a tremor ran though his body and he swore he bounced from foot to foot. Where the hell was his natural stillness and calm?

“Yes, here it is.” The young woman’s smile dimmed a little. “
A Lindsey Jarvis is here to see you. She said she’d wait in the museum.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He gave her a perfunctory smile as he shifted toward the museum, bypassing the kids oohing and ahhing over the size of the shells launched by some of the destroyers in the fleet.

The rectangular room held memorabilia from American naval warfare as far back as World War I and old black and white photos showed the variety of ships housed at the Naval base. The utilitarian carpet muffled the sound of voices, or maybe it was his pounding heart as he scanned the room full of display cases.

“Chief Petty Officer?”

He knew that contralto voice and his breath caught as he turned toward a case containing the bell musket, its lead ball shot, and a short bayonet recovered from a shipwreck off San Clemente Island. Lindsey stood beside it in a gloriously sexy sundress, fidgeting with the strap of the same purse she’d carried in Las Vegas. She’d pulled her hair up into ponytail that brushed her shoulders each time she turned her head.

“John?”

He realized he’d been staring too long and tried to find his voice to respond with some sort of coherency.

“Detective Jarvis. So nice to see you. What are you doing here in Coronado?”

Damn, could he sound any more official?

“I, uhm. Well, I came to see you. See how you’re doing.” She bit her lip and glanced around at the displays, trying to find her footing.
She clenched her jaw before she returned her gaze to him. “You look well.”

“Thanks. I am.”
Kinda.
“How is the new job going for you?”

“Good. Better.”

God, he hated small talk, but in the space of the public visitor’s center, he found it hard to stay anything real.
Suck it up, SEAL. The only easy day was yesterday.

“Look, I don’t mean to intrude on you, Chief. I just wanted to, well, make sure you’re doing okay after everything and…” She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, which pushed out her chest. John enjoyed the beautiful view. “See if you’d be interested in going out for coffee for real this time.
”

Excitement sparked in his chest and a real smile curled his lips. “That’d be great, Detective.” He held out his hand. “You can call me John.”

Her smile warmed his heart as she took his hand. “John. I’m Lindsey.”

“
Pleased to meet you, Lindsey. There’s a great coffee shop just off base if you’d like to go.” He hadn’t released her hand yet, and he didn’t want to. Just having her cherry blossom and pine scents around him again settled some of his restlessness.

“Yeah, that would be great.”

He tugged Lindsey through the foyer and out into the California sunshine. As soon as they stepped outside, only the breeze and the cry of seagulls interrupted his thoughts. He resisted the urge to bounce like a puppy after a ball as they strode into the parking lot in silence. She unlocked the car and he had to remind himself to let her go.

“Are you sure I’m not taking too much of your time, John?” She bit her bottom lip and he wanted to kiss it back to plumpness.

“Yeah, I’m sure. My CO just gave me the weekend to take care of any unfinished business with the Las Vegas PD, so I’m all yours, Detective.”
More than you know.

A sultry smile curled her lips and his cock saluted in response. “That sounds great, Chief. I did have a few questions I wanted to ask, and I recall you told me your specialty was interrogation. Maybe you could give me a few pointers.”

“You plannin’ on interrogatin’ someone?” He didn’t know why that made his blood pound, but he’d happily endure the increased pulmonary action.

“Maybe.”

“Well, in that case, maybe we better go somewhere a little more private.” Preferably some place with a bedroom. “I can’t be givin’ away all my secrets and techniques to just anyone. Do you have a place to stay while you’re in town?”

“I do.” She raised an eyebrow as he waved to the guards as they passed the gates of the base. “
I didn’t know how I’d be received so I made sure I could at least sleep the night before I drove back to Vegas.” She bit her lip again as her smile dissolved. “I didn’t know if you wanted to see me after everything that happened there.”

John’s first impulse was to wave away her fears, but something told him he’d have better luck with honesty rather than flippancy.

“All the memories I have of Vegas with you in them are the ones I want to remember.” He inhaled and flipped his heart open a little more. “I’ve been meaning to call you for the last three weeks, but I didn’t have your number, and I didn’t really know if you’d want to hear from me.”

Lindsey snorted and some of the fire he loved came back. “Jeez, we’re like a couple of twitchy teenagers on a first date. How old are we again?”

John laughed as the tension around them dissolved. “I’m twenty-seven last I checked. The military keeps pretty good records, so I’m sure it’s right.”

Lindsey gasped in mock horror. “Oh my goodness! I’m
a cougar going for a younger man.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You tellin’ me you’re older than me, ma’am?”

“Yep.”

“How much older? Turn here. The coffee shop’s around the corner.”

“Guess.” Lindsey grinned as they pulled into a spot at the curb.

“Oh, now, that’s not fair, Lindsey. No gentleman ever tells a woman how old she is.” He stepped out of the car and threw his cover on his head.

“I promise not to be offended.” She smiled over the roof of her car. “If you guess right, I’ll give you a prize.”

The bouncing puppy sensation returned. “Can I ask a few questions first before I make my guess?”

“Sure.” She winked and entered the Navy Bean Coffee Shop. John followed after like a dog on a leash.
Hey, I’ve been under her power since I met her.
Not a bad place to be in his estimation.

The rich scents of coffee and tea hit his nose as they stepped up to the counter. He enjoyed the play of sunlight on her hair and skin, and wished the fabric of her dress could be a little more translucent as it swished around her legs.
Get your head in the game.
He needed to be studying details of her to guess her age correctly.
She’s not that much older than me.
She had the confidence of someone who’d made it to her thirties, but didn’t wear the air of someone older.

“I think I’d like a short Jose Mocha.”
Lindsey laughed and shook her head. “I love the names of the coffee drinks here.”

John reveled in her confident joy and smiled along with her. Her beauty had attracted him first, but the fire and intelligence she carried within her made him yearn for the elusive fairytale mate.

“Are you going to order, Chief Petty Officer?”

The barista’s question made him jerk his attention back to coffee. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll take a tall Average Joe. Black.”

“Great. I’ll have those ready in a bit and call you up for them. What name can I put on the order?”

“Andrews.”

Lindsey allowed him to direct her to a booth beside the windows and settled herself across the table. “So, are you ready to guess?”

“No, ma’am, but I am ready to ask a few questions.” Oh yeah, he was ready. Maybe he’d even slip in a few questions of a more personal nature.

“Shoot, Chief.”

“Aw, now, see, that’s just askin’ for trouble. I’m an excellent marksman.”

“Then you should be able to get the information fairly quickly, right?” Lindsey’s grin charmed him. He’d never experienced the playful side of her.

“All right.” The barista called out his name and he ducked to the counter to grab their drinks. He thanked her while he considered Lindsey’s information a little longer as he returned to the table. “Where did you grow up?”

“All over. I was an Army brat.”

“There’s no accounting for taste.”

“Hey now. I’m hanging out with a Navy guy.” She snorted. “I figure that rounds out the military experience from an Army and Marine family a little more. They’d tell me not to waste time on swabbies.”

John laughed and raised his coffee. “Touché. How long were you in the Army?”

“One tour.” She sipped her coffee and grimaced.

“Not strong or rich enough?”

Her eyes widened with her grin. “Oh ho, so he does remember a few things.”

“Yes, ma’am. I have a pretty good memory for details.”

“Well, just remember that I like my men like I like my coffee.” She winked.

“Strong and rich?” He raised an eyebrow.

“And can keep me up all night.”

Bronco laughed. “I don’t know about the rich part, ma’am, but the other two qualities I’m pretty good at.”

“Yeah, you are.” Lindsey’s smile became wistful and John’s mind slipped back to the times they’d shared in Vegas. Like how she looked in the morning dressed in nothing but yoga pants and a camisole. Or the glory of her riding him hard in her little black dress.

Shit, focus on what you’re supposed to be doing.
What was that again? Oh, right, guessing her age.
Mine field there, son.

“How long have you been a cop?”

“Four years, two undercover, two as a rookie detective.” She set the coffee aside and leaned back in her chair, a half smile curling her lips.