The maid crossed her arms underneath her ample breasts. “You need to leave,” she said in a heavy smoker’s voice with only the slightest hint of a Spanish accent. After the initial shock of seeing him wore off, she didn’t seem the least bit fazed by his nudity, but he still snapped up his shorts from where they’d dropped last night and tugged them on.
“The woman staying in this room…do you know where she is?” he asked as he bent to retrieve his shirt.
Her disapproving frown only deepened. “Not here. She checked out this morning. Now you need to leave or I’ll call security.”
And there went his last shred of hope that last night had meant more to Eva than a wham, bam, thank you, sir.
Cam breathed out in a soft sigh of resignation then fished his own key card out of his pocket. He held it up between two fingers and showed it to the maid. “No, don’t do that. I’m a guest here, too.”
“Not in this room you’re not.”
“No, I’m not,” he agreed and shot one last glance at the bed. “I’m leaving.”
Vaughn wasn’t in their room when Cam got there, which he counted as a blessing. Boiling for a fight, he wasn’t fit for public consumption at the moment, and it wouldn’t have been fair to take all of his frustration out on his twin. He stripped as soon as the door clicked shut behind him and gave serious consideration to tossing his clothes in the trash. He could smell Eva and sex on them, and he wanted no reminder. But in the end, he folded them into his suitcase, then headed for the bathroom to start the shower.
The near-scalding water cleaned away the blackest part of his mood. He even felt marginally human again when he stepped out. By the time he dried off and dressed in a fresh T-shirt and his favorite pair of blue jeans, his headache had dulled and his stomach had settled enough that food sounded like a good idea. Preferably something greasy and artery clogging.
He grabbed his key card from the dresser and made his way down to the restaurant attached to the hotel’s lobby, all the while hoping he didn’t run into the maid again. Nothing like having a witness to your morning after walk of shame.
At the restaurant, he found Vaughn sitting in a corner booth with his SEAL buddies, Gabe and Quinn. None of them had much left on their plates, so they’d been there for a while already.
“Hey,” Gabe said when he joined them. “Thanks for your help last night with Seth.”
“Huh? Oh. Yeah.” Cam waved a hand and took the empty spot on the bench seat next to his twin. With everything else, he’d almost forgotten about that whole incident. “I didn’t do anything but talk to him.”
“At least he’ll talk to you,” Quinn said. “He shuts down around us.”
The scent of food made Cam’s stomach howl, but the waiter was nowhere to be seen. He reached over and stole a slice of bacon off Vaughn’s plate. “Well, you guys are technically Seth’s bosses. He’s not gonna want to air his dirty laundry in front of you. Does he have anyone else to talk to? A peer?”
Gabe and Quinn looked at each other, then Quinn shrugged. “The other guys on the team…they haven’t quite accepted him yet.”
“He’s being diplomatic. They don’t want him,” Gabe said in his typical blunt way. “They think he’s dangerous. Frankly, so do I.”
Yeah, that was an argument Cam wasn’t about to get in the middle of. And yet, he couldn’t stand the thought of Seth having nobody neutral to talk to on the team. “If he ever needs to talk, send him my way, okay? Jude has my number.”
“Thanks,” Quinn said.
From there, the conversation veered into lighter topics until the waiter finally showed. Cam ordered a double stack of pancakes, bacon, and some black coffee. The two former SEALs settled their bills and stood to leave, but Gabe paused and turned back to the table.
“Cam, you were Air Force, weren’t you?”
He lifted his coffee in a salute. “Four years, Security Forces.”
“Know of any pilots looking for work in the private sector?”
“Why, you hiring?”
Gabe nodded. “We need one before we take on anything more serious than bodyguard jobs.”
Cam thought about it, running through a mental list of his pilot friends. Most wouldn’t qualify for the kind of mercenary work Gabe dealt in, being either married with families or in stable careers as commercial airline pilots—except for Jace Garcia. The guy was a hothead, known for charging into situations like a bull, earning him the nickname Toro. He was smart, capable, and a bit crazy. Come to think of it, he’d probably fit in well with Gabe’s team. “There’s only one guy I can think of right now. Last I talked to him, he was flying corporate big wigs around Texas and hating every minute of it. I’ll give him a call, gauge his interest. Is there a way he can get in touch with you?”
Gabe produced a business card and handed it over, then after a round of goodbyes, the SEALs left.
Vaughn waited all of a half second before nailing Cam with a look that said, all right, spill it, and his hackles rose.
“What?”
“Where were you all night?”
Cam’s jaw locked. “You know damn well,” he said through his teeth.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. That was a huge mistake, bro.”