Page 2 of Saved by my Baby Daddy Spy
It would be nice to see Preston and the rest of the Gould clan without having to worry about my work interfering. I’ve never told them about my career, and I don’t want to now. My life depends on secrecy, and it’s something that guts me every single day. I walk down the street, heading to another bar in the area. It’s one I’ve gone to a few times and feel comfortable disappearing in. Tonight feels like one of those nights when it’s a good idea for me to disappear.
To be someone else just for a night.
Someone without a bounty on his head.
Someone who didn’t find his dead father’s secret research and get stuck with the task of delivering it to whom he hopes are the good guys.
I try to leave my problems at the door as I step into the dimly lit pub and head straight for the bar.
While the pub is even more packed than the first bar I went to, the atmosphere is different here. Vintage posters hang in frames on the wall, and the lighting is low and dark. Everything looks like it’s been around for decades.
It feels comfortable. Safe.
I can’t say that about many places in my life.
“Hey there, handsome,” a woman says as I walk up to the bar. She gives me a smile and runs her hand through her soft brunette waves. Her brown eyes roam over my body as she’s drinking in every detail. I can’t say that the feeling isn’t mutual.
For a moment, I picture what it would be like to run my fingers through that hair. To hold her curvy body close in the early morning light. To see those brown eyes peering up at me when she’s on her knees and taking me in her mouth.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been with a woman. My job requires a certain level of detachment from everyone, especially those who I love.
She looks like someone I could break that celibacy streak for.
“Hello,” I say as I take the other seat beside her.
While her words say she was confident, everything about her body language says otherwise. She is slightly drawn in on herself and turned away from me. Her gaze flickers to mine, and there’s a flash of hesitancy there.
“Okay,” she says, the word coming out in a rush. “I’m going to be honest with you. I’ve got a slight buzz after one Midori sour because I never drink. Well, not never. My weekly glass of cheap white wine is more than never.”
I flip my hat backward and settle it back on top of my dark hair. When I smile at her, a pretty pink blush works its way across her cheeks.
“So, what is a woman who only has a weekly glass of wine doing in a bar?”
She shrugs and looks at the empty glass in front of her, running her fingertip around the rim. All I can think about are those pale purple nails and how they would look wrapped around my hardened length.
“Thought it might be some good material for my next novel,” she says, peeking at me.
“You’re an author? You’re going to have to tell me more about that.” I glance at the bartender. “Whiskey, on the rocks,” I order before turning my full attention back to her. “What do you write?”
“Mainly romance novels.”
“Like the kind with pirates and some woman in a puffy dress on the front?”
The corner of her mouth quirks up in amusement, like she’s got a secret that she’s going to enjoy teasing me with. “Something like that. What do you do?”
“Nothing as exciting as writing about sexy pirates.” I watch as the skilled bartender swiftly pours the liquor over a mound of ice in a crystal-clear glass, the liquid pouring down, and my drink is placed in front of me before I take a long sip.
“I run a security company. Nothing glamorous, but it pays the bills.”
She smiles and turns in her seat, facing me fully. Her body language is open as she holds out her hand. “I’m Hannah.”
“Holden.” I softly grasp her hand and give it a gentle kiss on the back, watching that blush reappear. “Something tells me that there’s more to your story, though. Most people don’t look this sad when they’re sitting alone in a bar.”
Hannah raises an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say that I’m alone now that you’re here.”
“Avoiding the question.” I take another sip of my drink. “You know, you can tell me. I’m great at keeping secrets.”
She laughs and shakes her head, her eyes raking over my body. That look is all it takes to have my erection pressing against the front of my jeans. I return the look, my eyes following the lines of her body, taking in the way her black dress hugs her body and dips low in the front to reveal her creamy skin. I imagine tracing patterns on that skin with my tongue while she moans.
