Locked and Loaded (10 page)

Mason didn't find him half as cute and amusing as Kieran did himself. “Where do we meet you tomorrow?”

“United terminal, four o'clock.” His lips drew into a contemplative pucker and he said, “Better make it three. Who knows how backed up airport security will be.”

The glint in his eyes told Charlie that they'd be in for it tomorrow.
Great
.

“We'll be there,” Mason said as he stood from his chair and Charlie followed suit. “Thanks for lunch.” He pushed out the words as though it caused him pain to thank Kieran for anything.

“See you tomorrow.” The smirk didn't leave Kieran's lips though his gaze hardened almost imperceptibly. Again, Charlie wondered at his history with Mason. She didn't think it was entirely antagonistic. More to the point, she sensed the two regretted the way things were between them. As though they wished they could be close but knew the lives they led made it impossible. That worried Charlie. Could she count on Mason to do his job if he was so conflicted?

Charlie waited until they were out of the restaurant and in Mason's car to talk. She buckled her seat belt. “Well, how'd I do?”

Mason reached over and put a finger to her lips. The contact was electric and caused waves of heat to undulate over her skin. Her heart raced in her chest and her head swam as Mason slowly pulled his finger away. Such simple contact, and yet it drove her absolutely wild. Kieran could learn a thing or two about real sex appeal by studying Mason for a few hours.

“I think Kieran realizes that you know your business now. Of course, he doesn't know your sales history like I do.”

Were they supposed to be in character still? Charlie had hoped that once they left the restaurant, she could let her guard down. Did Mason think that Kieran had bugged their car? Goddamn it. If he was truly as smart as Mason gave him credit for, it would make sense. But was there nowhere that Charlie could have a moment's peace and drop the damn façade?

“Tomorrow will be smooth sailing,” she said. “I'm not worried in the slightest.”

“Don't forget,” Mason said. “It's a test. You have to bring your A-game.”

“I will,” she assured him. “You too.”

“Kieran has nothing to worry about.” Mason buckled up and turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life. “I'm in this for the long haul.”

He reached to the dash and turned up the radio. The old-school hip-hop filled the interior of the car to the point that Charlie could barely hear herself think. She looked over and her eyes met Mason's. His brow was pinched, every inch of his handsome face lined with concern.

Nowhere was safe. From here on out they were under the microscope. One false move and Kieran would put them both in the ground before they ever had the chance to call in reinforcements. For the millionth time Charlie wished she'd trusted Mason enough to not have rushed in on him at the prison that day.

She was in way over her head and they both knew it.

Chapter Ten

Charlie's heart beat a mad rhythm in her chest. Was twenty-nine too young for a massive heart attack? Mason, however, was the very epitome of calm as they waited in the TSA line. Kieran was somewhere ahead of them, having magically breezed through the screening area without anyone batting so much as a lash.

So much for security.

The line moved and Charlie stepped up behind Mason and put her carry-on on the conveyor belt along with the plastic tub that held her shoes and cell phone. She watched as he stepped into the body scanner and let out a sigh of relief as the light turned green and he was allowed to walk through.

“Sir, I'm going to need you to step to the side, please.”

Shit
. Charlie's heart beat so quickly she was afraid it was going to disconnect from her chest entirely. Heat rose to her cheeks and she was sure her face turned bright red. Apprehension twisted through her as she stepped into the body scanner and put her arms in the air, all the while watching as a TSA agent waved a wand around Mason's body before declaring that he was going to have to be searched. What? Why? The scanner cleared him. What in the hell was going on?

“Ma'am? Can you step to the side, please?”

Oh God.
Charlie took several deep breaths and willed her racing pulse to slow.

“Um, sure.”

She could barely keep her eyes from Mason as she stepped to the side of the line. His duffel bag was taken from the conveyor and searched while he was patted down. Charlie swallowed down the fear that congealed in her throat and focused her attention on keeping her breathing level and her limbs from shaking. She'd never be able to fly again after this. She'd be road-tripping it from here on out.

Goddamn Kieran and his games
.

She had no doubt the bastard had tipped someone off in order to test their mettle. See how they handled the pressure. She wanted to test his mettle by laying her knee into his crotch.

Why wasn't Mason panicking? He had almost a half million dollars' worth of illegal diamonds somewhere on his person, for Christ's sake! Charlie felt like her stomach lining was trying to abandon ship as she was haphazardly patted down. Mason hadn't even broken a sweat and they were practically strip-searching him.

“Ma'am. I said you can go ahead and go.”

Charlie looked at the TSA agent. “Oh, sorry. Thanks.” She walked on legs that felt more like noodles than anything solid, toward the conveyor belt, and grabbed her shoes, phone, and carry-on. Mason wasn't getting off as easily, however. Two TSA agents conversed in low voices as they searched his bag yet again, as well as his person. If they failed Kieran's test—a test that he'd made damned near impossible to pass—they'd be screwed. She could kiss the task force and Faction Five good-bye.
Damn it
.

Charlie slipped on her shoes and stowed her phone in her bag. She walked slowly away from the screening area while keeping Mason in sight. If she waited for him it might draw more suspicion. If she took off, he'd think she was ditching him. She had no idea how to behave. It's not like she was a seasoned criminal. Her job was to put the criminals in jail. Talk about walking a mile in someone else's shoes . . .

“Sir, you can go.”

She barely heard the TSA agent's words to Mason, but the relief she felt caused her pulse to pound hard in her ears. She let out a shaky breath and waited for Mason to catch up to her before they headed toward their gate together.

“You look like you're about to swallow your tongue.” Mason chuckled as he fell into step beside her. “You okay?”

“No.” Charlie let out a nervous bark of laughter. “I feel like I'm going to pass out! How did you get past security? They patted you down so thoroughly they could have found a spec of dirt in your pocket!”

Mason flashed a confident grin. “I'm Jensen Decker's son.” His dark tone belied his cheery exterior. “You don't think I learned a thing or two growing up?”

Charlie had never been so thankful that Mason was his father's son. “What did you do with them?”

His grin widened. “I don't have them. You do.”

“What?” Charlie searched her pockets. True, her pat-down had been superficial, but how could she not know that she'd had the diamonds all along? She searched the pockets of her skinny jeans, knowing she would have felt it if Mason had tried to slip something inside. Empty. She stuffed her right hand into her jacket pocket and her fingers found the cool stones.

“Oh my God.” She gave him a wide-eyed look. “How did you do it? When did you do it?”

He winked. “You've got a half million dollars in your pocket. Don't lose them.”

Charlie's step faltered. All along she'd had the diamonds and hadn't realized it. Tricky. And damn risky. “I could have been arrested! Not that it would have mattered, but still.”

Mason chuckled. “TSA doesn't care about the stones. If we were traveling out of the country it would be a big deal, but what does airport security care if you've got a couple of diamonds in your pocket? I knew that Kieran would want a little heat on me. He probably tipped them off that I was smuggling drugs or something they really cared about. He didn't want us caught, he just wanted to see how I'd react under pressure. I gave you the diamonds because women have a tendency to not receive as much scrutiny. TSA was looking for something on my person. I didn't want them to find anything.”

There was so much more to Mason Decker than met the eye. Charlie couldn't believe how off her first impression of him had been. She'd thought of him as a bully. Annoyingly stubborn. Arrogant and opinionated. Stupid. Over the past week she'd come to realize that he wasn't any of those things. Not by a long shot.

They got to the gate just as the flight began to board. Charlie said a silent prayer that they'd be out of the airport and in the sky soon. The sooner they got this over with, the better. Kieran enjoyed watching them jump through his hoops, and Charlie hated giving him the satisfaction.

Kieran was already seated when they boarded the plane, his trademark smirk affixed to his handsome face. “How'd it go?”

“Fine,” Charlie replied. “No issues on our end whatsoever.”

Kieran quirked a brow. “Really?”

Charlie smiled. The only thing allowing her the pleasant expression was imagining him rotting in a jail cell. “Really.”

“Looks like you haven't lost your touch, Mason,” Kieran said with a smirk.

Mason grumbled something under his breath as he stowed his duffel in the overhead compartment. He took Charlie's suitcase as well and placed it next to his.

“I think you underestimate Mason.” At least one thing Charlie said to Kieran was 100 percent true. “He's much better at this than you give him credit for.”

“Obviously,” he said with feigned humility. “Maybe I should listen to Charlie more often. What do you think, Mason?”

Kieran was trying to bait Mason and he knew it. But he didn't play into the goading. Instead, Mason hiked a casual shoulder. “I listen to her. Why wouldn't you?”

Charlie gave Kieran a smirk of her own as she settled into the window seat. The first-class accommodations weren't a surprise. She didn't expect Kieran to travel any other way. Mason settled in beside her, his posture stiff. It could've been that having Kieran sitting behind him put him on edge. Or maybe he was feeling residual nerves from his encounter with the TSA agents. Either way, his demeanor changed the second they stepped into the airplane, and it piqued Charlie's curiosity.

“Who wants champagne?” Kieran leaned forward and spoke between the two seats.

Charlie glanced at him from over her shoulder. “It's five o'clock somewhere, right?”

“Exactly.”

The flight attendant made her way down the aisle and stopped at their seats. “Can I get anyone anything? Mimosa maybe?”

“Whiskey,” Mason growled.

“On the rocks?”

“Straight up,” he said. “Actually, make it a double.”

Something had Mason on edge and Charlie couldn't help but wonder what. And more importantly, would it affect how the rest of the day went down? She couldn't afford for him to lose his cool. Especially since he was the only thing keeping her own nerves from fraying into tattered shreds.

Kieran chuckled as though privy to some inside joke. Charlie cast a sidelong glance Mason's way. He sat ramrod straight in the seat, his gaze forward and his hands gripping the armrests. Was he afraid to fly? Charlie couldn't picture anything frightening Mason Decker.

* * *

Jesus.
They might as well be flying in a goddamned coffin. Had Kieran gone out of his way to make sure they'd be flying in the tiniest fucking plane the airline could find? The walls closed in around him until Mason didn't think he could draw a deep enough breath to fill his lungs. Heat swamped him, his heart began to hammer in his chest, and his muscles grew taut. Where in the hell was the flight attendant with his drink? He'd never make it to L.A. unless he was on the verge of fall-down drunk by the time the plane took off.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

Charlie leaned in close. Mason took a deep breath of her fresh floral scent and held it in his lungs. He calmed, and the tightness in his chest loosened by a small degree. He could get through this flight, right? Hell, it was only an hour and a half. He'd taken road trips longer than that.

“Yeah.” The word didn't seem to want to work itself past Mason's lips.

Charlie's drew into a pucker as she studied him. “You look a little pale.”

The concern in her tone caused Mason's gut to clench. He didn't want her concern. He didn't want her to think that he was some ridiculous pussy who couldn't bear to be boxed in. Mason hated showing any weakness. What would her opinion of him be if she knew he was slowly unraveling?

Mason heard Kieran shift behind him.
Great
. The motherfucker wouldn't waste an opportunity to peel back his layers and expose him. “Didn't you know that he's claustrophobic, Charlie?” Kieran chuckled and it was all Mason could do not to turn around and pop him in the chin. “Mason and tight spaces don't get along.”

Charlie's brows furrowed as her gaze met his. His gut sank at the pitying expression. “Take the window seat,” she said. “It'll help.”

“I'm fine.” Mason pushed the words from between clenched teeth.

“You're not fine.” Her expression became stern. “It's okay, I hate the window seat anyway. It makes me nervous to see how high up we are.” She averted her gaze. “I'm not a very good flier.”

Sure
. No doubt she made the concession to try to make him feel better about his own pathetic state. Mason couldn't deny that he'd feel a hell of a lot better if he could see the expanse of sky and land beneath him, though. Anything to make him feel less closeted up.

“We're switching seats,” she declared. “No arguing.”

Bossy. But Mason wasn't about to argue. “Whatever,” he muttered. “If it'll make you feel better to sit in the aisle seat, we can switch.”

She gave him a soft smile that constricted his chest. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Kieran sat back in his seat with a flounce. His disappointed scowl made Mason feel a little better about being thrown under the bus. No doubt he'd expected Charlie to chide him for his weakness, or maybe join Kieran in giving him shit about it. Anything that squashed Kieran's plans made Mason's day. It was bound to be a long damned twenty-four hours.

The quarters were close as he and Charlie switched positions. Her body rubbed against his, her lush breasts pressed tight against his chest. Mason sucked in a breath as he fought a groan. The softness of her body against his made him want to feel it again. And with a hell of a lot less clothes on the both of them.

Charlie tilted her head, revealing the long, delicate column of her throat. Her sweet scent wafted toward him with a swoosh of her almost shoulder-length hair and Mason filled his lungs once again.
Damn
. She was better at calming his nerves than a fifth of whiskey.

Kieran looked like someone had peed in his Cheerios, and Mason couldn't have been happier. Kieran obviously thought to trip him up at the TSA checkpoint as well as throw him for a loop by basically forcing him to spend a couple of hours locked up in a tiny metal tube. Mason had expected to be put through his paces. That didn't mean he had to like it, though.

“Here's your whiskey, sir.” The flight attendant poured one tiny bottle into a plastic cup and set the other on the tray table. “That'll be twenty-two fifty.”

Man, forget diamond smuggling. The real money was in boozing up airplane passengers. Mason dug twenty five bucks out of his wallet and handed it over to the flight attendant. “Keep the change and keep them coming after takeoff.”

She gave him a pleasant smile. “Will do.”

“Don't overdo it, Mason,” Kieran snarked from behind him. “Don't want to be off your game when we get to L.A.”

He wanted to tell Kieran to take his cocky attitude and shove it right up his ass. So far, the only thing about this little test that was in the least bit challenging was sitting in this goddamned plane. Not for the first time, he was struck by the notion that it had all been too easy. He still had the flight to get through, though. A challenge he wouldn't complete without a little liquid courage. “Don't worry about me.” Mason didn't bother turning to face him. “My game's tight.”

Kieran chuckled. “We'll see.”

The plane lurched as it taxied down the runway. TV screens embedded in the headrests of the seats popped on simultaneously as the preflight spiel began to play. Anxiety trickled into Mason's bloodstream as he tossed back the first whiskey in a single swallow. He stretched his neck from side to side. Rolled his shoulders. Unclenched his jaw. The video concluded and the TV screens went blank. It wasn't the flight that bothered Mason. He didn't give a shit about being rocketed through the sky at a million miles per hour. It was the tight space that made him want to claw his way out of his skin. He poured the second tiny bottle of whiskey into the plastic cup and swallowed it down.