The Hitman's Pregnant Bride: A Baby Romance (4 page)

A
s he got
into the driveway, Andreas looked at the clock and groaned. He didn't wait for the garage door to fully close before he went inside. He could see that the table was still set with the duck cloth napkins. There wasn't any food.

Damn.

He narrowly stopped himself from sending his fist crashing through the wall. He promised himself, back when he started to get serious about Phoebe, that he wouldn't let the job interfere with his relationship. Now it had. It was bad enough that he was married to an FBI agent's daughter, but now everything was at risk. The Agency had assigned him a job that would definitely raise some red flags for anybody who was looking. He was supposed to do a hit on an FBI agent. Mr. Harold Kaine definitely would find out. Andreas knew that her father would look into everything that happened; it was going to be a gigantic pain in the ass to keep the old man off of his trail.

Sighing, he opened up the fridge to see what Phoebe had cooked for dinner. He remembered that he was supposed to bring her something. He'd forgotten it while he had done surveillance for his next target, the conversation that he had with Monsieur X playing in the back of his mind the whole time. He got out the special chicken pot pie, which was a little fancier than Phoebe normally went for a normal dinner.

That was right. Today was their Game of Thrones anniversary. Andreas felt like a terrible husband, both for forgetting about it and for coming home late without remembering to tell Phoebe. He cut a serving of the chicken pot pie and threw it in the oven to broil for just a minute. He watched the oven closely before he pulled out the pot pie with some oven mitts.

He sat down at the kitchen table and put the duck napkin in his lap. He ate bite after bite of the absolutely delicious chicken pot pie. When he was done, he cleared his plate and put it into the sink.

A small sigh put him on alert. He walked over towards the TV room. Phoebe was asleep on the couch. He wondered why he hadn't noticed her when he came inside. He had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts, probably.

He pulled her into his arms and carried her upstairs so that they could both go to bed. He put her into bed and tucked her in before going to their bathroom.

Andreas brushed his teeth and undressed before climbing into bed with his small wife, putting one arm around her. He loved the scent of her shampoo.

He would try to be a better man tomorrow. He'd figure out a way to apologize.

W
hen Andreas woke up
, there was a message waiting on his phone. It only said, "Chip's". He knew that he was being called in.

Phoebe was asleep when he went into the bathroom and got ready for the day, getting dressed in their closet before leaving. He dropped a soft kiss on her forehead before he went out the door. She shifted a little bit in her sleep. It was lucky that she was taking some time off for the baby. She seemed to sleep a little more than usual.

He walked into Chip's and got his usual, a simple Americano. The coffee was as foul as ever, but it came with an envelope that the barista rested against the coffee mug.

"Thanks," he told the barista, who often changed. They were men and women whose faces were unrecognizable, who could melt into a crowd without any warning.

When he got to an unoccupied table, he opened the envelope. He still hadn't found a way out of this assignment, but he needed to figure something out. He couldn't drop the ball until he found an escape route, though. Phoebe might have faked being asleep this morning before he left for "work," and he had a bad feeling about it. He wondered if he was at risk of driving her away if he came home too late too often.

He drank another sip of the watered down terrible coffee that he always got before opening the envelope.

He sprayed coffee everywhere when he saw the picture of the target.

His target was Harold Kaine, Phoebe's father.

He needed to get out of here. He quickly found a napkin to wipe up the mess and tossed the mostly full cup into the trash.

He went into his car but didn't start it. He wasn't in any kind of condition to drive at the moment. What on earth could he do? His hands gripped the steering wheel hard. Harold Kaine had definitely stepped on the wrong toes. He had been skulking around the Agency, finding the shape of it. Harold Kaine, unlike a lot of their targets, didn't get a death sentence for what he had done. He was getting a death sentence for what he might do: bring down the Agency. It was possible that he had gathered evidence against them. The Agency might want things that he had gathered and not yet turned into the bureau.

Andreas knew that the Agency knew that Harold Kaine was his father-in-law. Was that why Monsieur X had told him that he was the best choice? Did they want him to tie up loose ends? It wasn't a secret that Harold had never liked Andreas, but Andreas had never fantasized about killing Phoebe's dad. It was a nightmare. Andreas was all for working without letting emotions get involved, but this was absolutely ridiculous. He had no intention of killing his father in law. It was entirely too far. He hoped that the job wasn't what it looked like.

T
he next day
, Andreas knew that the job was in fact exactly what it looked like. He was running recon on Phoebe's father's habits. It was easier to think about and to speculate about than actually do. Harold Kaine was very cautious with his movements. He was investigating the Agency off the books, which only made him more careful. If Andreas wasn't on the other side, he would be impressed by Harold Kaine's mindfulness. He wasn't an old FBI agent by luck alone.

Harold stopped at a food truck parked near one of the secret FBI buildings in DC for lunch. When he heard a motorcycle approach his parked van, Andreas took his eyes of him of Harold for just a half second.

But that was long enough for Harold to disappear into the sea of people on the street at lunchtime.

Andreas was done for the day. It was better to hang back than try to get out of the van and find Harold in the sea of people. He had enough problems with Phoebe's father as it was. Looking at his watch, Andreas said, "Damn." He told Phoebe that he'd be home for lunch, skipping the lunch shift and bringing her food.

Andreas started up the van so that he could head back to Chung's as fast as he could go. He pulled together some beef noodle soup, a recipe that he'd learned from a Taiwanese street vendor on a mission a long time ago, before he went home to her, the soup carefully put into a bag.

He put it in the car and then drove home to his wife.

"Phoebe," he called as he entered the house, the bag in hand. "I brought you some lunch."

"It's past two."

"Sorry, babe. I had to pinch-hit for one of our line cooks who didn't show up."

"You could've called."

"It was a last minute thing. I'm really sorry." Andreas would have to figure out a way to show up on time for his wife. Could Siri remind him to consistently come home on time? He'd have to look into it.

"What did you bring?"

"Beef noodle soup."

"The kind with ketchup?" Her eyes lit up.

"Yup." He started unpacking the bag and putting the contents on their dining room table. "Do you want to get some soup spoons out?" They had big soup spoons that were perfect for this dish. Andreas worked at a Chinese restaurant — or pretended to work at a Chinese restaurant, anyway — so they kept chopsticks on hand.

When the table was set, Phoebe sat down across from him and took a spoonful of the soup.

"Wow, this is so good!"

"Thanks, babe." Andreas took a small sip. It was a little cooler than he'd like, but he had literally thrown it together as fast as he possibly could. He had to keep better track of things; he had a primal need to take care of his wife. There were thin slices of beef brisket on the top, which he had cooked in the hot soup. The slices were a little raw, but Phoebe didn't say anything about it.

"I made a beautiful doll today."

"Yeah?" Andreas ate another bite.

"It's the best one I've ever made yet. I'm so happy about it."

"That's wonderful, babe."

She dropped her chopsticks.

"I know that you get really busy at the restaurant, Andreas. It's okay that you were late."

"Thanks, babe."

"I know we've talked about you taking time to test dishes, deliver on your commitments, and attend all those culinary conventions that pull you away overnight, but the most important part to me is that you come home."

"I appreciate it, honey." He squeezed her hand. "Eat your soup before it goes cold."

They ate in silence. Finally, Andreas stared at the empty bowl in front of him.

"That was really good," Phoebe said. He looked over. Her bowl was totally clean.

"Let's throw all this into the trash." Andreas quickly stacked their bowls and tossed their utensils into the sink.

"Do you need to go back to the restaurant?"

"No, I'm off for the dinner shift." Andreas turned back around to look at his wife.

Her shirt was off. He could see that her stomach looked a little softer than usual.

She didn't need to say much. He liked seeing all of her soft, smooth skin. Her curves seemed even curvier than usual.

Andreas pulled his wife into his arms, sealing his mouth to hers. He was glad that the dining room table had been cleared, because he lifted his small wife and put her on top of it. He only broke the kiss so he could remove her bra and jeans along with her underwear. Everything was on the floor. Andreas pulled off his own shirt and pants. When he was totally naked, he knelt in front of her. He pulled her thighs apart so he could give her a deep kiss between her thighs. She moaned in front of him while he ate her. She tasted better than the soup that he made, that was for sure. He touched her clitoris until he felt her muscles contract again and again as she climaxed. He got to his feet then and pulled her legs over his shoulders. She was small, it was true, but she also had the flexibility of a dancer, a fact that he loved when they were in the bedroom.

Or out of it, as the case might be.

He pushed just the tip inside of her. Her eyes flew open and met his. She looked softer than usual, a little more vulnerable than she usually was. It was almost as if she was asking him wordlessly to trust her and let her all the way in, but he could never tell her the truth. She had everything that he could give anyone, but he couldn't tell her what his real job was. If he told her that he was a mercenary, a hitman, she would leave. He knew it in his heart.

His mouth crashed downwards onto hers. She put his tongue in his mouth, flicking it while he took her small body over and over. Finally, she moaned into his mouth as she milked his cock, getting all of his seed as he released inside of her.

"You okay?" she asked when they could both think again.

"Everything is okay. More than okay," he said, pressing inside of her again. He hadn't gone down yet.

She gave him a smile, but he could tell that it was halfhearted. He didn't know what to tell her. "Hey, baby, rough day at the office. I was just told to kill your dad. By the way, I'm a hitman, just FYI. Great news, huh?" He couldn't tell her.

"Let's stay in bed for the rest of the day, okay, baby? I promise that I'll try to be on time for our next lunch date. How about tomorrow?"

She slid off of the table. "Sounds good to me."

Andreas leaned down to kiss her slowly before carrying her upstairs to spend a little time together. Their marriage was so blissful, better than anything that Andreas could have imagined as a kid. He didn't want to screw it up.

T
he next morning
, Andreas hit some of the bags in the gym that the Agency kept behind Chip's instead of drinking some terrible coffee. Andreas alternated his strikes, changing up his combinations. He needed to clear his mind. His next step was to break into Harold Kaine's house, which would normally be a ludicrous idea. Now it was essential. He had a terrible feeling in his gut about it. He'd been to the Kaines' house many times as a guest; now he'd be an intruder in the house where Phoebe grew up.

He sighed. One more job after Harold Kaine, then he could hang up his guns. He could throw them into the Potomac for all the Agency cared. Just one more. He had to figure a way out of killing Harold and some way to get through two more jobs for the safety of Phoebe and their unborn child. He just had to.

He took a lightning quick shower before getting on the road. He had hacked into Mrs. Kaine's Google schedule. She kept track of everything that she and Harold did. Harold was supposed to go to a chiropractor first thing this morning. He had an old elbow injury that he treated with regular visits there. Andreas drove to the chiropractor's office. When he saw that Harold's car was definitely parked outside, he let out a long breath, steeling himself for the task ahead. Mrs. Kaine had a mani-pedi scheduled until noon, and he needed to be out of the house by then. He finally got there.

He picked the front door's lock. When this was over, he'd tell the Kaines to replace the locks. They weren't particularly complex. Andreas headed for Harold's office, where he saw Harold's locked filing cabinet. He quickly picked the lock on the cabinet.

He heard the floor creak overhead. Had he been caught? No, it was impossible. He was a professional. The house was just settling. His mind was playing tricks on him because he was in his father-in-law's house searching through the private files of someone who already hated him. He needed to get a grip.

He didn't find anything of interest in the filing cabinet, so he turned his attention to the bookshelves behind Mr. Kaine's desk. He pulled out a huge volume of Merriam-Webster's Unabridged Dictionary. He saw a glint of metal behind it.

Bingo.

He pulled out volume after volume until he saw the dial that would open the safe. He got out his listening device from his pocket while he spun the wheel incredibly slowly, waiting for the tumblers to fall. When he opened the safe, he heard another creak overhead. He quickly emptied the safe, putting everything into his satchel, before he replaced all the books just as he'd found them. There wasn't anybody at home, he knew, but he needed to get home to Phoebe anyway. He had promised her that he wouldn't be late to another lunch date.