Twisted Mercy (Red Team Book 4) (35 page)

“Balcones on ice, please,” he told the kid when it was his turn.

The kid searched the shelves, but couldn’t find that brand. “Sorry, sir. There is no Balcones. Would you like—”

Val shook his head. “Left cabinet, bottom shelf, all the way in the back.”
 

Angel and Greer joined him at the bar. Whiskey in hand, Val turned to watch Max and his girl. He shook his head, absently sipping from Owen’s private stash. The Balcones was smooth and warm, all the way down his throat. “I can’t believe our hairy friend found a female like that.”

Greer tilted his head, clearly not looking at Max. “He is hairy, isn’t he?”

Angel took one look at the couple they were watching, then reached for the Balcones. “Never seen Max look that way at a woman.”

Val finished the last of his drink, then handed his glass to Angel for a refill. “I’m afraid it’s terminal.”

Kelan stopped at the bar and ordered a beer and an iced tea. “You can’t hang with us, K,” Greer said.

He laughed. “Why?”

“’Cause this is the bachelors’ bar.”

Kelan’s smiled widened. He searched the room for Fiona. She was standing in the living room, talking to Eden. “I haven’t claimed her yet, so technically, I’m one of you.”

“Who would have thought we’d come all the way out here and half of us would end up with females?” Angel asked the group.

“It’s the water,” Val said, looking at his whiskey glass. “It’s even in the ice.”

Kelan took a long drink from his bottle. “I’m happy Kit and Ivy worked things out.” He leaned on the bar.

“You know the guy who most needs to get laid?” Greer asked. “Owen.”

Val looked wounded. “Seriously? What about me?”

Greer shook his head. “You pull them in like nectar does bees.”

“Or food waste draws ants,” Kelan said.
 

Angel leaned an arm on the bar top and looked at Kelan. “Word.”

“Really, Angel?” Val glared at him. “You seemed happy to tag along with me at Winchesters a while back.”

“Oh, don’t be so offended. It’s easy for you,” Angel explained. “That’s all we’re saying. It’s not for Owen.”

“How much do any of us really know about the boss man?” Val asked the others. He sipped his whiskey. “He could have a honey tucked away somewhere, for all we know. Maybe he’s even married. I wouldn’t feel sorry for him.”

“True.” Kelan nodded over to the dance floor, where the man in question was dancing with Selena. “Besides, looks like he’s doing just fine for himself.”

Val looked at the couple. Owen held Selena in a traditional yet relaxed pose, his right hand at the small of her back, his left holding her right hand up, close to their shoulders. Val took another sip of the bastard’s whiskey. They took a turn on the floor. Selena was facing him now. He doubted she could see him inside the shadows of the living room.
 

He was wrong. The lady warrior’s eyes found and locked on him like a sniper’s sight. He held her gaze until Owen turned her again, breaking their contact.
 

Val set his glass on the counter. “Later, guys.” He caught the look Greer sent Angel out of the corner of his eye, but ignored it as he walked off, moving in the opposite direction from Owen.
 

* * *

The energy around the tent and dance floor shifted as the music turned to a slow song. Owen watched the gathering from his vantage point at the edge of the dinner tent. Kit and Ivy hadn’t yet left the dance floor. Ivy had done a good job of ensuring there were enough females for the guys to entertain. Owen himself had already danced with Mandy, Eden, and Fiona.
 

He glanced at the table he’d shared with Selena. She was sitting alone, keeping a watchful eye over the attendees. He went over to her and held a hand out. She looked from his hand to his eyes, uncertain of his intent.

“Dance with me.”

“That an order or a request?” she asked.

“Which does it need to be to get you out on the dance floor?”

She put her hand in his. “You wouldn’t like the answer to that.”

He smiled. “Probably not.” He led her by the hand to the dance floor.
 

When they reached the patio, he lifted their joined hands and set his other on her hip. She gazed up at him with those green eyes of hers, her olive skin dusky in the fading light. She put her hand on his shoulder. The silk fabric she wore shimmered beneath the string of dim white lights strung overhead.
 

The breeze swirled around them, as alive as the humans who moved around the dance floor. It tousled the tips of Selena’s long hair. She usually wore it pulled back in a severe style—one entirely appropriate for her job. The hand he held was elegant, with long fingers and manicured nails. She looked impossibly feminine at this moment.
 

The breeze carried a hint of the perfume she wore, an elusive scent, like orchids on a moonless summer night. He had to remind himself that she was his employee, and as such, way out of bounds. The woman he held in his arms was legend in the annals of the Red Team, and her career was only just beginning. It would be fun to see how far she would go.
 

His mind replayed a memory of Val carrying her over his shoulder, sparring with her on the very field where Kit and Ivy held their wedding. It was true that any of the guys at any point could break out in a fight. He tried, between workouts and work, to keep them exhausted. But it was different to see Val tumbling Selena, right there in front of everyone. Yes, he’d overreacted. And yes, she was going to have to find her way among the men of the team, but fucking hell, he didn’t want her touched.

The floor was crowded. He had to pull her close to avoid some of the other couples who moved like dancing bovines across the floor. He set his cheek against her hair and realized it was every bit as soft as it looked. He envied her easy rapport with the team. She had, with them, none of the hesitation she showed him.
 

And therein, perhaps, was his answer. She was a trusted employee. Nothing more. If he didn’t want to fuck over the entire team’s morale, he’d do well to remember that.

Selena’s mind was reeling when Owen returned her to their table. She’d sensed something from him she’d never been aware of before: he was attracted to her, a fact she more than reciprocated. Before she could dwell on those unsettling thoughts, Val was there.

Owen’s laser gaze zeroed in on his flamingo-pink nails. “I’m not going to see those tomorrow, am I?”

“What, my nails? Of course you’re going to see them.” He caught Owen’s humorless glare. “Oh. Oh—you want me to wear gloves or something?”

“No. I want the pink gone.”

“Ah. Roger that.”

Owen’s eyes narrowed, but he seemed to accept Val’s acquiescence. He nodded at Selena, then stepped away. Val grinned at her as he offered his hand. “Losing to you is the gift that keeps on giving,” he said as he led her to the patio.
 

“I can’t believe you actually did it.”

“It’s like nails on a chalkboard every time he sees them. It was a brilliant idea.”

She shook her head. “You are seriously more female than I am.”

Val’s eyes darkened as she looked at him. “And yet, more male, too.” His blue eyes were light like Owen’s. But unlike the boss’ ice-cold eyes, his were heated, like a Caribbean ocean on a hot morning. He pulled her close, putting both of his hands on her waist as they stepped onto the dance floor. She was a tall woman; she liked having to look up at Owen, even with her heels on. But Val made her feel petite. She couldn’t help but compare him and Owen—and unfortunately, both fared well.
 

God, the sniper was hot. “I really don’t want to like you.”

His grin became a full-on smile. “Give it time. Everyone falls for me.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

“Are you hungry?” Max asked Hope as he led her out to his table.

“No, don’t worry about me.”

“Hope, have you eaten anything today?”

She shook her head. “I was too focused on getting through work. And afterward, I was in too much of a rush.”

He led her out to the dinner tent. The wait staff were breaking down the supper spread. He grabbed a plate and filled it with various food choices, piling more onto it than she could eat. She laughed and grabbed his hand, stopping him from adding more. “I already can’t finish what you’ve given me.”

He faced her, his hazel eyes dark. “Trust me, you’re going to need all your energy for later.”

She smiled. “How much later?”

His nostrils flared. “Not later at all. I can feed you in my room.”

“You have a room here?”

“All to myself.”

She tried not to smile at him, she really did. When she bit her bottom lip, he watched her teeth dig into her skin. “Does your room have walls?”

Max couldn’t hide the shock waves her question caused his body. His nostrils flared as he set the plate he’d just filled for her down on the buffet table. He fisted a hand in her hair and brought her close, kissing her with fierce abandon. One of his hands went to the small of her back, fitting her against himself. He tilted his head, gaining better access to her mouth. All sense of the world receded from Hope’s mind. She held his head, sending her tongue inside his mouth to touch his. She may have moaned.

Someone nearby cleared his throat. Max went still, then pulled back, letting reality seep in. “Greer—” Max growled.

“You’re attracting some interest.”

“So?”

Max’s friend moved slightly so that he was shoulder to shoulder with Max. “Owen’s glaring at you.”

“Fuck Owen.”

“I’d really rather not.”

Hope frowned. “Max—I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“You haven’t. Hope, this is Greer. He’s like my sidekick.”

Greer shook hands with her. “Max is a legend in his own mind. Thinks he’s a superhero.”

“Do you?” she asked Max. “Which one?”

“Batman,” Greer answered for him. “With all the gadgets and tech and shit.”

“Ah. Then that would make you Robin,” Hope said, looking at Greer. Max made a sharp bark of laughter at her comment. Hope peeked between the shoulders of the two men and noticed Owen was still glaring over at them. “I think we should maybe just stay here while I eat. Robin can sit between us so we don’t upset Owen any more.”

“It’s Greer,” Max’s friend corrected her.

Hope sucked in a breath, embarrassed at her gaffe. “Right. I knew that. Sorry. Owen has me flustered.”

“No worries. He does that to the best of us.” Greer took her arm and led her over to their table while Max brought her plate over. “Are you thirsty?” Greer asked.

“I am. I’d love an iced tea.”

Greer turned to Max, who was about to sit down. “She’d like an iced tea. I’ll take a beer.”

Max narrowed his eyes, sending his friend a warning. Greer smiled in response. He crossed the tent to a temporary bar in the corner near Owen’s table. Hope watched him, accidentally catching a glimpse of their boss. “Is he always this intense?”

“Who? Max or Owen?”

“Both.”

“Yeah. They are.”

“I don’t think your boss likes me.”

Greer shrugged. “He doesn’t like anyone.”

“That must make it hard to work for him.”

“It doesn’t, actually. He’s a hardass, but he’s solid. It’s all good.”

Hope cut into a piece of chicken. The Parmesan crust tasted delicious. She’d only gotten a few bites before a couple of women sat down on her other side. One was younger than she was, with blond hair that curled in wide ringlets. The other had shoulder-length dark hair cut in a way that caused the wispy ends to fan out away from her face. A big tan dog walked beside her and lay down at her feet when she sat.

“Hi,” the little blond said with a welcoming smile.

Hope swallowed what she was chewing. “Hi.”

“I’m Fiona and this Eden. And that big, beautiful boy with her is Tank.”

Hope extended her hand to both of them. “I’m Hope.”

Max returned then, setting her tea in front of her and giving Greer his beer. He went around the table and took the seat opposite her. She smiled, letting her eyes apologize for their loss of solitude; he looked none too pleased to have to share her, which was more than a little thrilling to her.

“We had to come meet the woman who felled Max,” Eden said.

Hope laughed and shook her head. “I haven’t felled him.”

“Yes, you have,” he said from the opposite side of the table. He leaned back and spread his arms across the backs of the seats next to him.

That assertion took her breath away. She stared at him, barely aware that another group of women had joined their table. Hope smiled a greeting. One of the newcomers was the tall, stunning woman Max had been dancing with when Hope arrived. The woman had smoky green eyes and warm olive skin. She wore a taupe silk pantsuit with soft ruffles that perfectly suited her. Hope couldn’t entirely squelch the jealousy that knifed through her, but a quick look at Max said she was the only one he had eyes for.
 

The woman next to her had copper-red hair. Her green eyes were a deeper, rarer shade of emerald. Mandy and Selena, she learned. They were nice women. It was easy chatting with them.
 

The bride and her groom joined them then; the bride took the last seat at the table, the one beside Max. Hope swallowed tensely as she looked up at the groom standing behind his bride. He was the flattop guy who set her nerves on edge. He didn’t exactly look pleased that she was there.
 

She glanced over at Max, checking his reaction to Kit. He hadn’t changed positions, hadn’t taken his eyes off her. It was as if no one but the two of them existed. Though his posture was relaxed and his arms were still spread over the two chairs next to him, she felt the tension coiled inside him. She knew what fast movement he was capable of—with little provocation.
 

Two other men joined them, one standing behind Fiona, the other behind Eden. Introductions were made, though she’d met one of them the day she came for her brother. The men looked friendly but watchful. She wasn’t certain whether she was the one who put them on edge or if their tension was just part of their personalities. The women started a cheerful banter.