“Would it make her feel any better to carry a weapon?” Shane asked, his gaze serious.
“Good question. I’ll talk to her about it. She doesn’t have a concealed carry permit, though, and even though some of us flouted that law the past couple of months, I don’t know if she’d be comfortable doing so.” Though Nick and Beckett had had Maryland permits, the other guys were from out of state and hadn’t. Carrying illegally was just one of the ways they’d had to work outside the law to clear their names. Now that they were opening a security firm of their own, all the guys were in compliance. Their business was going to have to be run completely by the book.
“Maybe you should get in contact with Chen,” Beckett said. “If Vance can’t track Woodson down, Chen sure as hell should be able to. He fucking owes us anyway.”
Nick nodded. “True. I’ll do that.” Chen was the CIA operative who’d first assigned Frank Merritt to the undercover corruption investigation in Afghanistan that had snowballed into the shit storm of the last year. When Nick and his team had rescued Charlie and picked up the investigation, Chen had found them and offered the vital assistance that had finally allowed the team to take down the bad guys and clear their own names. Chen wanted them to work for the CIA from time to time, which meant he was predisposed to do them favors. And Nick wasn’t above asking.
“Hey,” Becca said, walking into the kitchen. Wearing a set of lavender scrubs, she looked fresh faced and beautiful. His sunshine.
“Hey,” Nick said, hugging her in against him. “Want a bagel before we go?”
“Sure,” she said.
Nick busied himself with the task, then turned around to find Easy wrapping her in his arms. “I’m here for you, Becca,” he said in a quiet voice. One by one, the men repeated the action and the words. This was what family looked like. It made Nick fucking proud. And, truth be told, it choked him up. Just a little.
An hour later, they were sitting across the desk from the hospital’s chief security officer, a tall, wiry man with graying blond hair and a weather-beaten face. Barry Coleman had served for twenty years in the Marine Corps and worked in security for the past eight, facts that already made Nick feel a little better about leaving Becca there today.
Becca recounted when and how she’d found the stuffed animal, and Coleman asked a series of probing questions. Finally, he said, “Unfortunately, we don’t have a security camera inside the staff break room. After Becca’s attack, we secured and alarmed that external door, and we put cameras on all the main entrances into the ER, but I’ll have one installed in there today. Just for some extra peace of mind. And I’ll get my team on reviewing the personnel rosters and camera feeds from yesterday to see if we can pull together a list of people to talk to. This is harassment and intimidation, Becca, and we won’t tolerate it for a second. I can promise you.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“In case it needs to be said, there’s no chance Tyrell Woodson could get in here again. We have photographs of him posted at all the monitors. The whole security team knows what he looks like, including the BPD officers stationed in the waiting room,” Coleman said.
“We have reason to believe he’s out of the area anyway,” Nick said. “We heard South Carolina.”
Coleman nodded. “That’s good to know. We’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.”
Nick shook the man’s hand, then he and Becca walked out through the back part of the ER. In the break room, Becca stowed her purse in her locker. “You sure you’re okay being here?” Nick asked, his hands rubbing her shoulders. “No one would blame you for cutting out a few days early.”
“I want to do this,” Becca said. “I promise I’m okay. And I wouldn’t hesitate to go to Coleman if something happened.”
Nick nodded. “Okay. I’ll be here at three to walk you out. Have a good day, Sunshine.”
She smiled. “You, too. I can’t wait to celebrate tonight.”
“Me too,” Nick said. Tonight all of them were having dinner together at a great local steak house before parting ways for their respective bachelor and bachelorette parties. Nick kissed her for a long moment, and he didn’t want to admit how hard he found it to walk away and leave her.
But he had things he needed to do today to give them both some peace of mind. Vance, Chen, the inn. Nick also wanted to drive by Woodson’s last known address and make sure nothing was going on down there. Anything to help Becca feel better and get past the way his life had exploded all over hers.
It was the least he could do.
CHAPTER 8
That night at dinner, Nick couldn’t keep his hands off Becca. Despite the fantastic food, the great company of friends, and the well-deserved celebration, all he wanted was to get Becca alone somewhere so he could flip up the flirty skirt on the stunning little yellow dress she’d worn and get inside her any and every way he could.
Part of it was the top-shelf liquor flowing all around the table, and part of it was the relief Nick felt after all his efforts today had panned out in one way or another. Vance had found a parking ticket on Woodson’s car from two days ago in South Carolina, and Chen had agreed to put his considerable resources into not only pinpointing the guy’s location but also getting him off the street once and for all. The inn had agreed to additional security, and the head of the security company they used had even made the time to meet with Nick. The guy and his team seemed competent, smart, and savvy, so there was another thing on their side. And Woodson’s last known address had not only been quiet as a grave but dust-covered to boot. No one had been there any time recently.
That still left the mystery of the stuffed animal, of course, but Coleman was on it, and Becca’s day at work had been incident-free. They’d get to the bottom of that yet.
Becca had been visibly relieved when Nick had filled her in on his day. Now, she seemed so relaxed and happy that it made his fucking heart ache.
Sitting at the dinner table surrounded by their friends, Nick squeezed her thigh. She turned to him wearing a huge smile, a champagne glass in her hand. “Are you feeling frisky, Mr. Rixey?” she asked.
Nick leaned in close. “No, I’m fucking horny. I want to mess up your lipstick and tear off your panties and make my fingers and cock smell like you.” He leaned back again, his face carefully neutral.
Her eyes were wide—and full of heat. “Holy shit. How am I supposed to be apart from you the rest of the night after that?”
“Welcome to my world, Sunshine.” He threw back a gulp of whiskey.