Page 5 of Good Enough

Silently and quickly, Waters was there to open it for her. She snapped her head to look at him, not hearing him come up right next to her. Her eyes were wide and startled, her nostrils flaring just slightly, and a clear pulse point pounded in her neck.

She smelled like lilacs.

Do. Not. Inhale.

Instead, he decided to get in one more tiny prod. “SEAL training, ma’am,” he offered quietly in explanation. “Situational awareness is sometimes the difference between living and dying. Always know what’s around you.”

Her eyes narrowed in challenge. Slowly, she turned so that she faced him eye to eye without wavering. “Camera one is in the upper right-hand corner of the framed Jackson Pollack on the left-hand wall, which I admired when I first came in here. Camera two is the fake lock on the cabinet behind where I sat, where I saw you looking over my shoulder earlier. Camera three is on the center bar of the telescreen so that it looks like a power button. When something is on, it’s a blue or green light; when it’s off, it’s blank, so the red light was a dead giveaway. Camera four is in the digital clock face, hiding as a third dot in the colon between numbers. Colons have two dots, not three. Camera five is the USB stick you had me use to hack into my system. Yeah, plug something foreign into my laptop, and it’s not going to look at anything else on my computer. Please. And camera six”—she flicked the lowest button on his Henley—“is in this button right here. The one that’s set too closely compared to the others.”

She returned her cool gaze to Waters’ focused stare. “I think my situational awareness is in a good place. Good day, gentlemen.” She turned without a backward glance, exiting toward Cherry’s desk.

Waters moved out into the hallway and watched her walk away, the long tails of her belted, oversized blouse covering what was probably a wicked ass to go with the athletic legs in the sexiest boots to ever clack down the hallway away from him.

What. The. Fuck! How the hell…?! She… This is gonna be—

He shook his head. Well, he didn’t know what this was going to be. What he did know was that it wouldn’t be his problem, which, from his dick’s perspective, was a shame, but from his brain’s perspective, it was a relief. He was back on full duty in three weeks, so there was no reason to put him on a job that would be anywhere from twelve to fourteen weeks.

Deep in thought, he reentered the conference room, closing the door behind him. Crossing over to the wall of windows, he reached up with his left arm, laying his palm flat against the glass to stretch out the kink that was developing in his shoulder from holding himself so rigidly. He watched her exit the building.

“Did I really hear her call you ‘G.I. Joe’?”

Waters rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up.”

There was a pause before God said, “You tried to check out her ass in the hallway, didn’t you? You’ve always been an ass man.”

Quit baiting me, motherfucker. I’m not gonna fall for it.

“Well, if you’re not interested”—God hummed to himself—“Nemo would probably love a chance at that. On the plus side, he’s a movie buff—”

“Double shut the fuck up,” Waters murmured.

He hung his head, forehead against the glass.

Annnnd you got baited, dumbass.

God started laughing uproariously at his snipe. “Think you can handle her?”

“Not interested.”

Liar.

After a moment, Waters turned and looked at the camera in the telescreen bar with a frown of suspicion. “Why would you be worried about me being able to handle her?”

“She needs a consultant. Tag—you’re it.”

Oh, no, I do not want that drama or the distraction.

“We don’t do movie consults. Why the fuck did you even meet with her?”

“Ka-Bar called in Steel’s marker.”

“I don’t care if he called in every favor ever owed to him by anyone. That’s not my issue.”

“Then what is your issue, Waters?” God growled.

“The issue is I shouldn’t have to do this grunt work that any former SEAL could do. I should have my medical clearance in three weeks. I’m needed back in the field.”

Was that whining? That sounded like whining.

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