Delta: Revenge (3 page)

Maybe it was wrong to fantasize about his buddy’s sister, especially when Javier knew how protective Colin was over her. But some things could not be helped. There was plenty enough to pay attention to. Her mouth had the perfect pout with full cherry-stained lips. Brown eyes warmed the sweetheart face that softened her steel Cole-family backbone. Sophia had grace, yet there was a rawness about her that added color to his black-and-white world.

Javier ran a hand over his mouth, hiding his smile. A wedding apocalypse shouldn’t have been fun to watch. Yet with Sophia, it was hard to look away, not because of the disaster but because of how she’d handled it.

Again, he hid the smile that he didn’t want to explain to the world, appreciating her from afar. But his stomach dropped. He wouldn’t make a move on a woman in her wedding dress. There were some lines even he didn’t cross. What was he thinking?

Javier’s gaze swept the room, searching for the ambassador. Nowhere to be seen, much like Colin. If Javier could guess, Cole senior and junior were having a moment with the wannabe groom.

At least the reception was still a go. Free booze and food—and hopefully good news from Brock, Delta team leader.

“Hi, sexy.” Trace’s wife, Marlena, joined him at the table, smoothing her dress and pushing back her bright, newly red hair. He liked Mar; her edginess and intelligence made him comfortable. “I’m surprised to see you sitting down.”

“Why?” he asked, even though sitting alone, staring at his phone and waiting for a phone call, was unusual. Or maybe not. All he did anymore was chase intel.

“This many pretty girls in the room, all watching you boys like you’re a wedding-reception one-night stand waiting to happen—”

“Isn’t that the point of weddings?” He joked to cover how distracted he was.

“Yet you’re sitting at the table alone.”

“Waiting on a phone call.” Brock had important Primeiro Comando intel, and as soon as Javier found out if Delta was a step closer to the PC, he could relax. The closer they moved in, the better he felt. Tonight, Javier
wanted
to party with his teammates and booze it up, stare at a single Sophia, and maybe make a stupid mistake. Say something he shouldn’t. Get hell from the team. Any minute after his call with Brock, he could—as soon as good PC news rang from the phone.

The screen lit, and as if Brock could read Javier’s mind, a text message appeared.

Need another thirty minutes or so. Not looking like the break we need.

Javier grumbled. Actionable PC intel would happen that night; they were
so
close. Maybe one day he could live without craving revenge. What would it be like to wake up and not want blood?

Marlena cleared her throat, an eyebrow lifting as she stared at his phone. “Not good news?”

He lifted a heavy shoulder, questioning the hope he was trying keep ahold of. “It’ll be okay.”

Trace came over with two drinks, handing one to his wife. “Yo, man.”

“Hey.” Javier checked his watch. Not even a minute had passed. Another thirty minutes would drag like the first few bites of a tattoo’s needle.

“What’s wrong with him?” Trace asked Marlena.

Javier answered for her. “I’m waiting on Brock. He’s at Titan, digging through Primeiro Comando
BS with Parker.”

“Oh, gotcha.” Trace sat down. “If it doesn’t happen this time, we’ll learn more next.”

“Right…”

In his peripheral vision, the unmarried bride and a few bridesmaids walked across the corner of the dance floor. Her white gown covered her from neck to toe yet left nothing to the imagination. Javier needed to look anywhere but at that skirt swaying tight on her ass, surrounded by a giant poof of fabric he would dive face-first into. Sophia was
gostosa
. She’d always been hot, but with a booty like that and that dress putting it all on display? Whoa.

“Down, boy.” Marlena laughed into her wine.

Javier shifted back in his seat as heat flashed up his neck. “Just waiting on a phone call.”

“You’re staring.”

At the bride
was left unsaid, and Javier thought he could make an argument for any of the bridesmaids. “Lots of things to look at, Mar.”

“A ton of ladies, that’s for sure.” Marlena clucked at him. “But probably not
her
.”

It would be in poor taste because Colin was his boy. And because he needed to focus on the PC.

“Javier?” Marlena pulled him out of his guilt-tainted thoughts.

“Yeah?” His eyes dropped to the phone then back to the dance floor. What a woman…

“Still staring.”

Trace gave a low laugh, throwing his arm around his wife. “Maybe that’s what little Sophia Cole needs to forget about the day: a good night with Brazil.”

Javier swallowed the knot in his throat, partly ignoring both of them and glancing up, not taking his eyes off Sophia. “Just waiting on a phone call. That’s all.”

“Then look out, ladies.” Marlena giggled. “South America’s finest is in a mood.”

He tore his attention away from the bride, who was making the rounds with a vacant smile on her camera-ready face, playing the part of the diplomat’s daughter very well.

Colin sauntered over to the table, beer in hand. “Hey.”

Trace and Javier welcomed him with chin lifts, and Marlena gave Colin a nosy glance.

“Kill the groom?” she asked.

“Nah. Not worth it.” After pulling up a chair, Colin nodded to Javier’s phone on the table. “Have you heard anything?”

It seemed that word on possible intel moved as quickly as wedding-day gossip. Javier tilted his head, hating the answer. “No. Soon, though, I think.”

“Good. If not today, then soon.”

“Yeah, yeah. You guys can stop saying that already.” The truth didn’t help. Who knew what would?

“There it is.” Marlena shifted onto Trace’s knee. “When Javier gets worked up, that accent of his sounds like an orgasm waiting to happen. Take that onto the dance floor, Javier. That will be a good distraction for whatever you’re waiting on.” She crossed her heart. “I promise.”

Javier rolled his eyes. “
Pare.
”

“Holy butterflies, if I weren’t already—” she started to say, but Trace clamped a kiss over her mouth, and she dissolved into a fit of giggles.

They were cute enough to make a man puke.

Ryder walked over with a girl under his arm, laughing at Trace, who was kissing Marlena as though they were still the one-night stand they’d started as. “Hey, now. Are you getting an early start, mate?”

That made Marlena laugh harder. Trace flipped Ryder the bird, not stopping what he was up to.

Colin slugged back his beer. “Can’t go wrong with an open bar. I’m going to need it to deal with that”—he pointed at the Trace-Marlena love connection—“and that.” Then he pointed at Ryder, who grinned at the possibilities. “And
you
.”

“Me?” That one caught Javier off guard.

“If you don’t hear what you want to hear, you’re going to be
pleasant
.”

“Nah. Won’t faze me.” Lying, Javier let his gaze roam. “Your sister okay?”

Colin dropped the beer bottle to the table. “With her it’s impossible to really know. Teflon tough. But this whole thing?” He tossed his hand toward the soft woman working the room. “That’s to be nice to our mother.”

“Yeah?” Interesting…

Colin shook his head. “Mom means well.”

“If I were Sophia, I’d need a drink. Or five.”

Colin nodded. “That’s what’s in her head. She’ll have a straw in a champagne bottle at first opportunity.”

Marlena giggled. “Trace said she needs a night with Javier.”

Colin rolled his eyes. Trace’s laughter bled into the music as he tickled Marlena in punishment. Ryder threw his head back, pulling his girl-for-the-evening into his chest. She laughed. Everyone was laughing and happy, making out and drinking. But Javier’s mind stayed with Sophia, thinking about Marlena’s joke of spending the night with her and of all the times he had thought about her like that before.

“Go say hi,” Marlena squeaked.

“
Cristo.
” He wouldn’t put himself in that position. “I’m not going to hit on Colin’s sister in her wedding dress.”

“Or ever.” Colin slugged back his drink. “She needs nothing from Delta.”

Javier laughed in agreement, but the gesture was more defensive than amused.

Trace laughed. “Everyone needs a little Brazil.”

Javier smiled to torque the hell out of Colin. “Her innocence is safe from me.”

“Innocence, come on.” Colin shook his head. “You guys are killing me.”

“I—” The phone’s screen lit, and this time it read
Brock
calling. Not a text message. This was the intelligence Javier needed. “I’ll be back.” He swiped the phone to answer. “Yeah, boss. Give me a minute to get somewhere quiet.”

He
needed
this phone call to go well. Delta needed info, a simple break of information in their hunt. But Javier needed more intel to keep functioning, to keep his focus from going haywire. They were so close. He could taste it, feel it. All that was missing was a piece of information.

He headed into an empty hall, leading away from the party. The noise died as he put the phone back to his ear. “Alright. I’m here. Good news?”

A second ticked by. “Sorry, Brazil.”

His head dropped back as disappointment, again, flooded him. One step closer; one step back. In the end, they might never find the fuckers that had hurt his sister. Every dead end was a reminder of how empty he felt, how bad he hurt.

“Javier?”

“Yeah, boss?”

“The break’s coming. I promised it to you. It. Will. Come.”

“Yeah, I know.” But the inevitable heartbreak had already hit hard. He could go back into the reception, find himself a good time, and forget tonight. Or he could sulk. “Thanks.”

“Chin up.”

“Yes, sir.” And as Javier’s chin went up, a bartender wheeled out of a back room, pushing a dumbwaiter stacked with champagne bottles—like a sign from God that he should sulk and drink. Javier grabbed one, ignoring the surprised response. “Thank you very much.”

“Hey—”

He wandered down the hall of a house that was so big it was a museum. A quick tear of foil and pop of the cork, and Javier was one sip closer to a buzz.

CHAPTER THREE

The walls of a house she hated were closing in on Sophia. The bridesmaids, sans one very noticeable maid of honor, were doing their best to make her forget the awkward day. The effort was thoughtful even if the whole concept was uncomfortably weird.

How many people in the room did she actually know? Not many. Which was fine because her mother had transformed the reception into a fundraiser. Donations and charity could fix most situations, and while she’d rather not have had to be publicly humiliated to help raise awareness for women’s rights around the world, it was a cause that she’d dedicated her career to, and her mother
did
have an entire press corp there.

“Soph, honey?” The oldest and sweetest of the bridesmaids, Tabby, bumped elbows with her playfully. “Doing okay?”

“It’s a great day to raise money and awareness.” For what cause? Whatever Mom had decided.
Raise money. Raise awareness.
Four perfect words that could shut down any uncomfortable small talk.

Tabby
phffsh
ed. “Give that BS line to someone else.”

Thank God for real friends. “I need cake.”

“And a drink.”

Oh, yes. A drink. A big one with bubbles that comes with a warning. Something like,
Too many will make you hurt in the morning, but for now, you’ll forget. Drink responsibly.
“Your suggestions are one of the many reasons why I love you, Tabby.”

She preened to the point that they both laughed. “I think we’ve crossed everyone off the list you have to say hey to.”

“Affirmative. That’s why it’s also cake time.”

Tabby’s light-green eyes narrowed as if working out a strategy. “So, how does that work?”

“Hmmm.” Sophia did a small spin around the room in search of the wedding planner. No dice. The only ones working—on payroll for the event—were a few assistants, the caterers, and the DJ. “I think I’m just going to get a piece of cake.”

“I don’t know about that. I’m pretty sure there is protocol. There’s an engraved keepsake after all.”

“Do you want it?” Sophia asked.

Tabby laughed, trying to hide it unsuccessfully with a bite to her bottom lip. “Well, no.”

She shrugged a lace-covered shoulder. “Think anyone will say something?”

“Yes. Your
mother
, for one. And—”

“My mom is in public-relations crisis management. My stealing a slice of cake is the least of her worries.”