Silver Spoon (5 page)

"I think you look sexy in everything and will be even more so dressed in absolutely nothing." He cracked a grin in her direction, his gaze taking in her body not hidden beneath the old wooden dining table.

A crimson stain covered her cheeks as her voice softened and turned more serious. "I'm pretty average. You're the one graphic artists would fight over. Hunky, sexy, muscular, confident. You look like a romantic hero who also happens to be the world's greatest lover. Stick you on the cover and any book is destined to be a best seller."

As much as he liked knowing she found him attractive, he remained uncomfortable with the praise. He kept in shape out of habit and necessity in order to stay alive as a Wind Warrior. Slow men didn't live long, neither did the weak. He never considered his physique more than that, a means to do his job. Sure, he soaked up feminine attention and appreciation, but never thought too much of it since he did the same, checking out beautiful women, angling to see which one might be interested in spending a few hours in mutual passion, before moving on with life. Until Riley.

He quickly changed topics. "You never told me how you started writing." He sipped from his glass of soda.

She chased an errant olive around her plate. "I used to read a lot. Fell in love with romance. I guess like many women, the adult fairy tales appealed to me. After a while I decided to give it a shot, write my own stories, and give voices to the characters living in my head." Her gaze met his. "You think I'm nuts."

"Not at all." He'd seen and dealt with questionable people for years. Riley rated as one of the most grounded and well adapted people he'd met. Pretty too, with a rear he could cup in his hands while suckling her pretty nipples…

"Hey. Eyes up here." Her tart voice and gesture pulled him back to the discussion at hand. With a wicked grin, he complied.

She shook her head. "Every six seconds, huh?"

"Something like that."

"Incorrigible." The corners of her mouth twitched.

His phone vibrated. Plucking it from the leather holder, he automatically checked the number. "Spoon."

"Hey buddy. Got another mission. You interested?" Night's voice carried across the line.

"Aren't I always?"

"We leave at dawn tomorrow. Usual meeting place. You want details now, later, or on the way?"

Spoon glanced over at Riley who picked at her salad in an attempt to give him a modicum of privacy even though he realized she heard him easily enough. "On the way is fine."

"Good deal. Later."

He disconnected the call and replaced the cell phone in the carrying case. Her gaze met his. "I've got another business trip tomorrow."

"Oh." She puffed out a breath. "How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know yet. It normally takes a few days, sometimes more. I can promise to call when I return."

"Where are you going?"

Wanting to detour her questions about his upcoming assignment, he reached across the table, clasping her hand in his own. "I don't want to spend time going over boring details about tomorrow when I could be spending that same time with you."

Her smile returned. "Thanks." She blotted her mouth with the napkin and took another sip of water. "Do we need to leave so you can go home to pack and get some sleep?"

"No." He shook his head. "But, if you're finished, we can go look at the rest of the place, see some more fish."

"Even a shark or two?"

He flashed a reckless grin. "I thought clown fish feared sharks."

She stood and moved to his side, leaning over to brush her lips across his. "This clown fish finds a certain shark intriguing, handsome, and feels quite safe in his presence."

Her words sent a gentle wave of happiness washing over him like the ocean lapping at his body as he lay relaxed on the beach enjoying a rare holiday. Leaving enough money to pay for their meal and a tip, he took her hand and guided her to the showroom next door, his attention on the unique lady at his side.

Chapter 7

Spoon snaked along the damp ground on his belly, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Despite the moonless sky and pitch black night, he wasn't dumb enough to believe the drug cartel didn't possess tools to assist with sight and location all around the property. As much money as the factory made, even the simplest minded manager would ensure top notch security devices stood ready against competitors, police, DEA, and any other individual that decided to make an unannounced visit.

"Mark." Night's voice carried softly across his ear bud communication device, notifying him and the others that he was in the pre-planned position. As a rule, they conversed in Navajo during a mission, a language few spoke in modern times. This gave them a definite edge when infiltrating drug compounds where in most circumstances a handful of dialects could be used by the cartel and easily understood.

Brush rustled nearby, causing him to freeze and lift his rifle to the ready, a habit from years of military training as a Green Beret. A moment later, he relaxed marginally, the night vision glasses revealing the source of the disruption.

A huge, thick-boned dog trotted up to him without a bark or growl and commenced to sniff and snuffle him.

"Go away," Spoon whispered to the animal.

The beast continued with his appraisal effectively ignoring him. He tried again, this time in Spanish. "Vayase."

Still, the dog stood there and stared down at him, making not a single aggressive move or even a warning threat.

He couldn't let the canine inside the building or even close when the well placed explosives went off. His conscience wouldn't allow him to harm an innocent animal. "Well, shit." He snared a rope from his utility belt, tied it to the dog's collar and a nearby tree, far enough from the action to be safe, while out of sight as well.

"Spoon. Mark." Night called to him, inquiring if he found his way to the north side of the building.

"Not yet." He patted the dog on the head and told him to stay. "Estancia."

"Balls to the walls, soldier." The stern command bit through the link.

"Yes, sir." Carefully, he gained his feet once more, scurrying from cover to cover, senses on high alert for guards or nearly invisible alarms waiting to be triggered and announce their arrival.

A spotlight flashed on then began a slow surveillance of the area.

Spoon threw himself next to the cement wall of the compound, sucking in everything tightly as the beam traveled just in front of him.

Not daring to breathe, he waited until the danger passed before whispering into his link, "Mark. Warning. Light."

"Noted." Night answered before checking in with Loco.

"Lark has contact. Go."

Spoon quickly set wireless controlled explosives along the wall, before dashing around the side.

Lark, the only female member of the team, a DEA agent and Army brat, managed to slip inside. Her petite frame and cheerleading past giving her the size and strength to climb into air vents and other small holes, presenting the entire team a huge edge in locating certain men, control areas, and other tactical advantages.

Kicking in a door, he met a swarm of panicked people, all trying to exit as quickly as possible. He plastered himself to the wall, easing forward while allowing the common workers to escape. They weren't innocent, but weren't his target, either. Take out the leaders and destroy the production factory. Those were the orders.

Moving quickly but stealthily through corridors, he soon found the control room, now empty except for a couple of dead. Lark stood across the room, furiously disconnecting lines from a laptop computer before stuffing it in her carry bag to be used as evidence and potentially provide more information about contacts that could also be taken out with one wide sweep.

"You okay?" Each one of the team realized her abilities, her background, and training, but they had a hard time keeping their protective instincts submerged when it came to her.

She glanced over long enough to roll her eyes at him. "I think I broke a nail." Sarcasm thickly laced her words.

He grinned and shook his head. Regardless of her gender, Lark possessed the heart and soul of a true warrior. "Ready to go?"

She pocketed a couple more devices before nodding.

"Have you seen Rojas?"

"No…"

"Target tango down." Cale's voice carried to their ears. The dark haired retired Navy Seal seemed to always beat them to the viper's head.

"He has all the fun." Lark snorted with an amused grin. Grabbing her weapon for easy use, she pulled the full material bag to her side.

Swiftly, they made their way through a maze of hallways, guns at the ready for any surprise ambushes. Without incident, both stepped into the night air a couple minutes later, scurrying hastily for nearby shrubbery as camouflage. No sooner had they made their way to the safe zone than a large explosion sounded behind them. The structure's ceiling immediately collapsed, followed by the remaining walls. Fire broke out sending smoke wafting through the pre-dawn air. Lying low, they waited for several minutes ensuring no more people emerged from the fiery building to take pot shots at them. When none came, they stood and made their way to join the others.

"What do we have here?" Loco stood beside the tethered animal. Sticking out a hand, he allowed the dog to smell him before attempting to pet the humongous head.

"He found me earlier. Seemed friendly. I didn't want him in the middle of that mess," Spoon answered as he glided over to the only Marine in the bunch.

Cale joined them. "Looks like a mastiff to me. A bit gaunt right now, but the rest of him looks okay."

"We need to get moving, before sight-seers appear." Night untied the rope, leading the dog to the SUV.

Spoon arched his eyebrow at his boss.

"What? We can't leave him here at the mercy of whatever comes along. What if no one comes and he starves to death?"

Cale seconded it, "Poor thing hasn't received much care by the looks of him. He deserves better."

"Look at those big, black, sad eyes. He needs a good home and someone to love him."

The men grinned at the only female in the group.

"Every now and again, she does something feminine," Loco taunted, earning a hard smack to the chest from the little blonde.

Lark glanced toward the pinkening sky. "Let's get a move on." Opening the back door, she put up the optional third row seats with practiced ease. "If someone will put the middle row down, we can lift him in, and shoo him to the back."

Night went about the task while Loco found a Styrofoam cup. Pouring water into the makeshift bowl, he offered it to the mastiff. The animal drank thirstily, downing a whole bottle by the time they had the vehicle ready.

"Poor guy. He's parched." Lark rubbed the animal's head. "Okay. Let's lift him in."

Spoon grabbed the chest while Night took the back end. Finding the wide muzzle beside his face, Spoon prayed the dog wouldn't decide to express his displeasure by sinking those teeth into the nearest human flesh. He needn't have worried. By the time they set him on his feet in the car, Spoon received no less than three wet, slobbery dog kisses.

"He's friendly." Night smiled wide, watching Spoon wipe his sleeve over his face.

"Damn heavy, too."

Lark bounded in, leading the dog to the back, and, with agile precision, kept her upright stance despite Cale popping the seats back into place.

That chore accomplished, they piled in, Loco taking the wheel, and headed for home.

"So, who just became a new dog owner?" Lark tossed out from Spoon's right.

Each person looked to the others.

"Lily and I already have three spoiled cats and a German shepherd. There's no room in the small house for more."

"Oakley has Hercules. He's a bit taller than this one. I don't think we can handle another moose in the condo." Loco looked at him through the rearview mirror before focusing on the road once more.

Night chimed in from the passenger seat. "Summer has Murphy. Same problem as with Loco's Great Dane."

All eyes turned to Lark. She held one hand up. "Don't look at me. Bryce and I have a rottie and a mix. I wouldn't chance another male dog with Cav."

All eyes landed on Spoon, sitting in the middle of the second row.

He sighed in resignation. "I'm gone all the time. How will I take care of a dog?" The poor animal needed a home, a good, stable forever home. Not a life of boarding every other week for an unknown length of time while he tromped all over the continent on assignments. No. The oversized drool monster needed someone else. He needed someone like Riley.

"You have a girlfriend now," Loco announced to the entire group.

"You do? When did this happen?"

"You've been holding out on us?"

"Spill the beans. What's she like?"

Covering his face with one hand, Spoon pinched the bridge of his nose. He purposely tried to keep the brand new relationship a secret because of the nosey busy-bodies sitting in the car with him. Like attention seeking puppies, they would yap and yank his pant legs until he gave them what they wanted.

"Okay. Okay. I'll take the dog and give him to Riley as a present." Plans and ideas raced through his head. Who knew what shots the dog had and a brief glimpse earlier as they hefted him in the back of the SUV revealed he remained intact, thus needed a minor surgery as well. "I guess I need to line up a vet first."

Loco held up his phone. "Already on it. Oakley said Hercules' vet is wonderful. She'll call him as soon as the office opens and explain the situation. With any luck, we can take him there as soon as we get home."

"I'm sure that will cost an arm and a leg." Cale took a deep swallow from his bottled water.

Spoon shrugged. "I think I can afford it. If not"—he looked around the vehicle—"I expect each and every one of you to chip in. This was your idea after all."

They all dug through pockets and duffel bags, shoving handfuls of money at him.

He just couldn't get anything past them today. "Keep it. I think I can cover it." The gesture put a smile on his face. In all honesty, the team resembled more a band of brothers and a sister than simple co-workers.