Page 16 of Troubled Water
“Got it in one.” He then asks if I need a lane. I point to Bethany’s, where she and her friends seem to be wrapping up their game. I mention I’ll be heading that way and, to my pleasure and dismay, am told, “No problem.” I make a mental note to assign guards to Bethany starting next week. She’s too unprotected.
Too vulnerable.
After taking my card, I’m handed my shoes, given a sheet of paper on how to hook up to the WiFi—no fucking way. I can see some pimple-faced ass hat trying to hack my phone and realizing I’m the mother-fucking associate director of the Agency. Then I’ll be fending off attacks all night instead of focusing on the woman I can’t seem to stop obsessing about.
Before I know it, I’m behind the hard plastic chairs near to Bethany just as she’s about to bowl again. I admire her trim physique as she takes three steps forward, swings her arm back, and crouches down, pulling her jeans tight against her ass. An ass, I remember lasciviously, which fit perfectly in my big hands. Hands that wanted so fucking badly to explore every inch of her perfect skin. That was until I was dragged away from her for my damn mission and my patriotic duty.
I swallow, the memory of our conversation at Cal and Libby’s party smashing through my memories of our day together in Playa Del Carmen. She barely acknowledged me—probably thought I’d forgotten her. And to be fair, I’d given her that impression. I’d been pulled into an op that night that kept me out of the country. Then, after my parents’ funeral, I elected to leave for the better part of eighteen months until I was shot and sidelined.But she doesn’t know that,the insidious voice inside my head reminds me. Determined to have a long overdue conversation with her, I promise myself nothing’s dragging me away tonight unless Bethany plans on doing the dragging.
As she’s doing her celebratory dance, she spots me. Happiness seems to dissipate into thin air as Bethany storms up to me. She snaps, “What are you doing here, Thorn?”
I rub the back of my neck. “I guess I wanted a chance to see you again. After all, seeing you for the first time at Cal and Libby’s the other night didn’t go so well.”
Something shifts and moves behind her eyes. I recognize her stifling her curiosity before she says, “How did you know I would be here?”
I step closer, not just so we’re not overheard but so I can determine if our time in Mexico was a fluke.Judging by the way my cock leaps to attention after it presses against the trousers of my suit, I’d say not,I think sardonically. Without thought or repercussion, I answer, “I tracked you.”
Her eyes narrow. “How?”
I open my mouth to answer until I take in how pissed off she is. I decide to make her a bargain. “How about we play a game? If I win, I get to take you out.” I sound a lot more confident than I really am.
“And if I do?” she asks suspiciously.
“Then you can ask me any question.”
“Including how you tracked me?”
“Including that,” I immediately agree.
Her lips twitch into a smile. With a flick of her long hair, she goes over and programs our names into the computer. Thorn. B. “Game on, Thorn.”
“May the best person win, B.”
God, please give me a miracle and let that be me.
Bethany takes her turn,her movements fluid and effortless as she launches the ball down the lane. It crashes into the pins, sending all ten scattering in a perfect strike. Her friends whoop and cheer, and she turns back to me with a cocky grin.
“Top that,” she teases, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Not sure I can.”
Bethany studies me for a second, and I can see the gears turning in her head. “You don’t exactly look like the bowling type, you know that, right?”
I look down at myself—down to the shirtsleeves in my suit. Definitely a more relaxed version of my usual office impeccability, but still, “I can adapt,” I say, holding my hands up. “I’m flexible.”
She snorts a laugh, and I take it as a small victory.
“Well, if you’re flexible, then grab a ball, businessman. We’re just about to start another round.”
But the whole time, I know there is one thing I haven’t told her—one thing that might push her away again if she finds out. My job. My life as a businessman isn’t exactly the typical nine-to-five she probably imagined. And I am not sure how she’ll take it once she knows the truth about what I do and who I work with.
I’ve learned over the years that people knowing I work at the Agency has the power to make them swoon with the desire to learn the most deliciouson ditor scare them to death that their secrets will be exposed.Where will Bethany fall once she finds out?I wonder.
And she will ask since she’s kicking my ass.
As the night winds down and the others start to pack up, Bethany and I end up sitting at a small table near the snack bar, finishing off our drinks. She leans back in her chair, her gaze flicking to me like she is sizing me up again.
“So, how did you find me?” She takes a pull from her bottle.
