My own mother is asking me if I took advantage of Noelle? Fucking stellar.
“Ma!” I try to communicate everything in that one word, my disgust and disbelief. That, and I’m praying she doesn’t somehow use her Mom-dar to detect that I actually considered it. That I considered pulling Noelle’s lush body against mine, devouring her, and just, well … fucking the everloving hell out of her. And I’m not proud those thoughts crossed my mind during a time when it was the last thing Noelle needed.
“Foster.” My mother lowers her voice to a near whisper. Like anyone’s listening in and my phones are tapped or something. I do private security consulting; I don’t work for the CIA.
“Ma.” I’m beyond ready to get this call over with.
“Be kind to her, okay? She needs that right now.”
Closing my eyes, I will patience to set in. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Love you and I’ll see you soon. Be careful, okay, sweetie?”
“I will. Love you, too.” I hang up the office phone slowly, my thoughts already going back to the call I received about Hendy. I know I’m being suspicious as hell, but it was like the hair on the back of my neck stood up, alerting me in that way us Special Forces guys recognized as pegging the “Something’s not fucking right” odometer. It might seem like profiling, but the accent the guy had and the way he posed his question… I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s making me uneasy.
“Hey.”
I raise my eyes to see Doc watching me with his usual unnervingly intense gaze. He’s just under six feet tall, light brown hair, fit, but slender with green eyes. The former SEAL sniper is more on the quiet side, yet always über observant. There’s not much that gets by him. Which sucks ass in my case since I’m certain he’s picked up on … things.
“Need me to look into something for you? I finished up my documentation from the last assessment Ford and I did.” He and Lee often paired up for their designated jobs. She’s already finished up for the day and is headed home to be with her fiancé, Lawson.
“I might,” I mutter in response, my attention on the paper where I jotted down some notes during the call. Picking it up from my desk, I stand, walking over to hand it to him. His green gaze skims over it and once his eyes meet mine, I recognize the look.
“You don’t think it’s legit?”
I shake my head. “I don’t. Sounds crazy, ri—”
He cuts me off with a wave of his hand. “No. It doesn’t.” His eyes narrow as he rereads what I’ve jotted down on the paper. “I’ll check into this. I’ve got a guy who might be able to help.” Doc glances up. “It might take a bit to get ahold of him.”
Ah, I know who he’s talking about. Mercer. Nodding, I give a little laugh. “He’s still off-grid, huh?”
Doc’s lips tilt up at the corners. “Yep.”
Mercer is one hell of a guy. A little off, but then again, anyone who’s been in Special Forces of any kind has to be in order to go through what we have to endure. Once he got out of the military, he went completely off-grid, and when I say that carrier pigeon is the one way to get a message to him, I’m not kidding. It’s basically to this extent.
“Thanks, man.” I glance at the time. “You want lunch? I forgot to grab something on my way in this morning.”
One side of his lips curve up. “Yeah, I noticed you were in earlier than normal.” Doc’s eyes shift over to where Noelle’s sitting at her desk before settling back on me. “I’m good, though, thanks for asking.”
I hold his stare, silently telling him, No, I didn’t screw our office manager, even though I’m pretty sure he already knows that since I alerted everyone of Noelle’s situation so they could be on the lookout and more alert than normal. That, and the fact that neither I nor Noelle are acting the least bit relaxed in the We just got laid kind of way.
Walking back over to my desk, I focus on grabbing my keys and cell phone from my desk, not glancing up as I speak. “Davis, I’m heading out to grab some lunch.” There’s far more than a beat of silence following, and I finally raise my eyes to find her staring at me expectantly.
“Are you telling me or asking me?”
And, there we are. Right back to normal.
“Seriously.” There’s no masking the exasperation in my voice. “Do you want to get food or not?”
“Wow. With an invitation as sweet as that one, who wouldn’t? I mean, a charmer like you?” she remarks drily. She’s such a damn smart-ass.
And, yeah, okay. I like it.
A lot.
Rolling my eyes with a grunt, I start making my way to the door. “If you’re coming with me, let’s go.”
There’s the sound of a desk drawer being quickly opened and shut before I hear the rollers of her chair being pushed in. “I’m coming, Dr. Nefario.”