Laura Kaye - Hard As It Gets

“What in the hell?” came Jeremy’s voice out of one. “Hey, Jess, what is walking—”

A shriek sounded from the lobby. “Holy shit.” Jess’s laughter followed a moment later. “Somebody lost a tripod,” she snickered.

Becca had her hand pressed to her mouth, and the rise in her cheeks told him she was enjoying the show.

“Hey! No! Gimme that back,” Jess yelled.

The puppy trotted down the hall again, something red in its mouth. Jessica barreled after her with a scowl on her made-up face.

“Is that a dog?” Jeremy yelled. “Why is there a dog?”

Beside Nick, Becca was giggling.

And then the dance started. The puppy rounded one of the tables with its prize clutched tight between its teeth. Jess chased her to the right, and the puppy dashed left. Then Jess veered to the left, and the puppy ran right. “C’mere, you little thief!”

Becca snorted. “I should help her.” They stepped out from their hiding place and Jess glared. “I’m sorry,” Becca said, humor coloring her voice. “I’ll help.”

Jess waved her away. “No, no. I’ll get it. It’s fine.”

“Come here, puppy,” Becca called and snapped her fingers. “Come here, girl.”

Jess hiked herself up on the table, scooted her butt across, and dropped down on the other side, surprising the dog by changing the rules of the game. The puppy growled and took off like a cartoon, her legs taking a minute to find purchase before she shot around the other table. “You little fucker, c’mere!”

Rixey stood with his arms crossed and watched the circus unfold. Much as she tried, Becca couldn’t stop laughing. This was even better than he’d hoped for.

Jess got in a swipe at the dog’s tail and the shepherd barked around the scrap of fabric in her mouth.

Jeremy stepped out of the tattoo room wearing his mask and gloves. “What in the holy hell is going on out here?” The dog shot toward him and Jeremy crouched and caught her in a body hold. “Uh, hello.” He looked up. “We have a dog now?”

Becca smiled. “She’s mine.”

Jess stepped forward. “Um, Jeremy.”

Wagging her tail, Sadie-or-Georgia deposited its prize on Jeremy’s knee. He set the dog down and looped his gloved finger under a string. Holding it up, he pulled his mask off and arched a brow at Jess.

It was a thong.

Jess dove for it.

Jeremy rose in a flash and held it above his head. Short as Jessica was, she didn’t have a prayer.

“Jeremy Rixey, I will kill you.”

He hugged her tight against his chest and cocked his gaze up toward the panties. There was writing. If you can read this, it’s your lucky day. He barked out a laugh.

Becca grinned, her expression halfway between sympathy for Jess and hysterics. Nick should’ve known that between Jeremy and Jessica, letting the dog in here would lead to some sort of slapstick antics.

“I have to ask why you have panties here and how the hell the mutt got ’em.”

Jess stomped her knee-high black boot. “Just give them to me.”

Jeremy reached up with his other hand and held the thong so it hung straight, all except for one loose string. “Why are they—?” His eyebrows flew up under his long hair. “Are these ripped?”

The phone rang, the ringer echoing between the office and the front desk.

Jess braced her hands on her hips and tapped her toe. “Give. Them.”

“Not until you tell me why they’re—”

“Because, unlike you, I had sex last night and the guy ripped my thong off. Are you satisfied?”

Jeremy’s expression froze.

“Probably not as well as you are,” Becca said. Despite her bright red cheeks, she met all three sets of eyes that whipped her way. Damn, she wore that mixture of embarrassment and daring so well it shot right to Rixey’s cock.

Jeremy burst out laughing, and even Jess gave her a begrudging chuckle right before she punched Jer in the stomach. He grunted and handed over her panties. With a flip of red and black pigtails, she marched toward the front desk.

Through it all, Rixey couldn’t stop watching Becca. The way she laughed and smiled, the ease with which she teased and joked with Jeremy. Rixey remembered back to when she’d first walked through Hard Ink’s front door. He’d thought her sweet and innocent. The girl next door. And maybe a part of her was those things. But she was also the woman who’d come at him with a knife, who’d resisted a significantly bigger man attempting to abduct her, who’d tried her hand at boxing without any self-consciousness. The woman who’d kissed him. The first woman he’d kissed in over a year. And the woman who made him want so much more.

Too bad he didn’t deserve any of it, though that didn’t stop him from wanting her comforting touch, her warm body, her light chasing away his dark. Selfish bastard.

“Hey, Nicholas,” Jess called, knowing he disliked his full name. “Miguel’s on the phone.”

Becca turned to him with a grin. “Nicholas?”

He arched a brow and made for the office. “It’s Nick. Or Rixey. Or ‘Hey you.’ ”

“Or asshole,” Jeremy offered, stripping off his now dirty gloves and returning to his client.

“Preferable to Nicholas,” Rixey said over his shoulder. As he turned into the office and lifted the receiver, he wondered why the hell Miguel was calling him on the landline. “Hey, Miguel.”

“Hi, Nick. Wanted to let you know I got held up with an issue with one of my clients. I’m still coming over, it’ll just be a while.”

“That’s fine, but why are you—”

“Calling on the landline? Because I didn’t want to delay getting you some information before I can get over there and fill in the details. And this is more secure.”

If someone was so inclined, it was much easier to pick up a conversation from a cell phone. The fact that Miguel was taking precautions against that meant he was worried. Rixey pushed the office door closed. “Okay. What’s going on?”

“I called my guy at BPD to report the break-in and find out who’d covered the scene the day before. Report hadn’t been filed yet. He couldn’t even readily put his hands on who the lead investigator was. And none of the evidence was in the database. So I asked about the missing persons investigation on Charlie Merritt—”

“Let me guess. They’re not taking it seriously.” Rixey sank into the desk chair.

“No. That one hadn’t been filed either.”

Rixey sat forward, suspicion prickling over his skin. “Are you shitting me?”

Miguel heaved a breath that made its way down the line. “I wish I were. I don’t want to speculate about what this means before checking out a few more things. Speaking of which, do you know if Becca called nine-one-one during any of this?”

“Twice that I know of. When she found the break-in at her brother’s and last night when she realized there was an intruder in her house. Why?”

“I want to look into something. I found her home number online, but do you have her cell, too?”

“Yeah. Hold on.” Rixey fished through the recent dials on his cell and recited the number.

“Listen, just hold tight. I’ll help you work this if that’s what it comes to.”

“Thanks, Miguel. See you when you get here.” Nick replaced the receiver and sank heavily against the backrest.

This snafu was spinning out of control. One missing person, three break-ins, a kidnapping, and, at best, noncooperative police? All of which might also have something to do with Frank Merritt? Way more than he could handle on his own, even with Miguel’s help.

Rixey knew what he had to do.

But it was gonna suck ass to make the ask. At this point, his former Special Forces teammates owed him a whole lotta nothing. It was possible they wouldn’t even listen. But if they did, it was shit to call needing a favor after falling out of touch. He was going to have to own that, though, and choke down whatever grief they wanted to give him.

And, damn it all to hell, if they agreed to help, they might very well have to do this outside the technical confines of the law.

That was a fucking lot to ask from anyone.

But if Frank Merritt was at the bottom of this mess, he and his men might have a shot at not only protecting Charlie and Becca but also restoring the honor of everyone on the team. And Rixey would give just about anything to make that happen.

He just hoped he wasn’t alone.

The first one Rixey had to talk to was Shane McCallan, not just because they’d been close but also because Shane had made so many attempts to reach out. The intelligence specialist could curse you out in more languages than you’d ever heard of and had medic training to boot. He and Nick had served together in the Army Special Forces for six years, much of that time in Afghanistan. Until the day their A-Team’s convoy was ambushed under highly suspicious circumstances and they were all blamed for the deaths of seven men in a cover-up of mind-boggling proportions.

Now Shane worked for a defense contractor in Northern Virginia. He had landed a lot more squarely on his feet than Rixey, and Nick was truly glad that his onetime best friend seemed to be doing a helluva lot more than getting by.

Nick placed the call.

Each ring reverberated against his innards, making him shift in his office chair. These conversations were likely to be as comfortable as an eyeful of sand, which should have the upside at least of distracting him from the fact that Becca had decided to soak in a hot bath down the hall—

Someone picked up. Then there was a long pause that made Rixey press the phone more firmly to his ear. “Nick,” Shane finally said. “Long time.” There was nothing welcoming in the man’s voice. His words were clipped so tight they even hid his usual hint of a southern drawl.