Page 38 of Garrison's Creed

And there it was. He didn’t trust her to work for no other reason that he didn’t think she should be in the field. She knew it. Tears stung behind her eyes. Her throat was raw, and she tried like hell to swallow the boulder, but couldn’t. “Why?”

It came out as a whisper. He hated her. He didn’t trust her. Now, he wouldn’t respect her on the job. Her mind and her body hurt from the rejection. Her biggest fear and the truest love slammed together. Pain overwhelmed her thoughts.

If he was speaking, she didn’t hear it. She only noticed that they’d started toward the bonfire again. Cash parked, jumped out, and left her alone in the truck with all of her insecurities.

***

This is what it would be like to hang out at a superhero convention?Nicola nursed her beer and watched. They were all dressed head-to-toe in varying versions of tactical gear. Tight shirts, pants with too many pockets. She was sure there was enough firepower to invade a small country stashed in their vehicles.

Roman hovered over her for a while, checking in and presumably fending off anyone who might want to talk to her. Typical overprotective Roman. It almost felt good, familiar, to have him breathing down her neck, glaring at anyone with testosterone. Cash worked the crowd with his lazy laugh, ignoring her, and the rest of the Titan men filled their roles by shotgunning beers and chowing down on barbeque.

Jared walked over to her with two beers in his hand. Her butt was numb from sitting on Cash’s tailgate, and she was a tad lonely. Yeah, she’d talked to Roman. But there was very much an invisible line drawn around her. No one approached her without what looked like an okay from Roman, although Jared didn’t look as if he’d asked for or cared about the Roman go-ahead.

Maybe she was the problem, looking like she held a sign that saidBeware: I bite.Or maybe,I came back from the dead. Who knew?

“How goes it, princess?”

“How goes it…” She needed a name for him too, and dickhead wasn’t going to work in front of his men. “Twinkle Toes?”

He would have reacted, she thought, but he was too alpha to show the flicker of surprise. “You got jokes. Beer?” He held out a fresh one.

She raised her beer. Its label had long ago been peeled off. “Still got this one.”

“So finish it.”

Jared was growing on her. She turned the bottle up and drained the last drops of the warm beer. She’d had it in hand too long. Yuck. A chilled longneck would be good. “Done.”

“Good girl. Here.”

She nodded her thanks, appreciative for anything that would lessen the buzzing feelings in her head. If Jared had handed her a horse tranq, she might have tried to kiss the grumbling jerk. “I needed this.”

“I see brother and sister are reunited and acting brotherly-sisterly. You and Roman cool?”

“Of course. He’s pretty forgiving or, at least, not as much of a bastard as you might think.”

“Good. So what’s the deal with you and Cash?”

“Why?”

“Something came up. I can’t partner with you on Operation Smoke-‘Em-Out, and I need a man working with you.”

“I don’t need a man.”

“Not what I meant. All I got is men. I need apersonworking with you.”

“I work fine by myself.”

“I’m not a work-on-an-island kinda guy. You get a partner, or you lose the job.”

“Fine. Whoever will do.” She shrugged like she really didn’t care and looked over his shoulder.

“Actually, not fine. No one will work with you.”

“Like I said—”

“You’re hard-headed like Roman. Great. Fuckin’ fantastic. Roman doesn’t trust himself to work with his little sister. I talked to him. He won’t do it.”

“He’s a moron.”

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