Total Control Page 7

  Lexie tucked her boob back into her bra and straightened her shirt. She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. Her skin felt flushed, and her mouth still tingled from Jake’s.

  What the hell was she thinking?

  She squared her shoulders and pulled open the door.

  “Hi.” Amy’s brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. What’s up?”

  “I called you a minute ago, but you didn’t pick up, so I thought I’d drop by. So . . . you haven’t talked to Brian?”

  Lexie smoothed her hair, hoping Jake wasn’t about to waltz across her living room with his shirt off.

  “He didn’t call me. Why?” Lexie checked her watch. “Isn’t his shift about to end?”

  “Yeah, that’s the problem.” Amy glanced past her, and her startled expression told Lexie she’d caught sight of Jake.

  “Come on in,” Lexie said casually, stepping back to let her inside.

  Amy entered the foyer as Lexie glanced over her shoulder. Jake was calmly seated on one of her barstools in the kitchen now. He wore his T-shirt again and appeared to be talking on his cell phone. He glanced up and acknowledged Amy with a nod.

  Lexie cleared her throat. “That’s Jake Heath, the friend I told you about.”

  Amy’s eyebrows arched. “The SEAL?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought he couldn’t help us?”

  “Turns out he can. He is.” Lexie sounded flustered, so she tried to change the subject. “So. What’s up with Brian?”

  “I was supposed to relieve him over at the ex-girlfriend’s house, but I just got called in.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m not sure. Something about the case. I think we probably got the phone dump, and Nate needs a couple of agents to comb through everything. He didn’t call you?”

  “No.”

  “Well, is there any chance you can cover for me?”

  Lexie hadn’t planned to pull a surveillance shift tonight.

  “The alternative is, we could let it go and hope nothing happens overnight,” Amy said. “It’s been pretty quiet, so—”

  “No, I’ll do it.”

  “You sure?” Amy cast another look at Jake, probably wondering what he was doing at Lexie’s house so late.

  “I’m sure. You’re supposed to be there when, midnight?”

  “Eleven,” Amy said. “I was on my way over when I got the call.”

  “I’ll cover it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lexie opened the door, and Amy stepped out.

  “Call me if anything comes up,” Lexie said.

  “You, too.” Another glance at Jake. “And sorry to drop this on you, especially on a Saturday.”

  “No biggie.”

  When Amy was gone, Lexie locked the door and checked her watch. She had exactly twenty minutes to get to Venice Beach.

  “You’re on stakeout?”

  She turned to see Jake right behind her, even though she hadn’t heard him approach. His conveniently timed phone call had ended, and now he gazed down at her with his hands on his hips.

  “You caught all that?” Lexie asked.

  “Yep.”

  For a moment, she just looked at him, reliving the feel of his mouth on hers and her hands sliding into the back of his jeans. He didn’t have anything on under those jeans, and she had to stop thinking about that.

  She turned away. “I have to go. I have to be in Venice by eleven.”

  “Want company?”

  She looked at him. “On stakeout duty?”

  “Sure, why not? Might be fun.”

  “It definitely won’t.” She retrieved her backpack, wishing now that she’d grabbed that hamburger for dinner when she had the chance. “I’ve got it covered.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do right now, anyway. Such as going to get your injury treated.”

  “It’s fine,” Jake said. “But I do have some stuff to take care of.”

  He reached over and opened her door, and her heart did a crazy somersault because he was leaving without mentioning what had just happened between them. Maybe it was better that he didn’t. For her, having a gorgeous man kiss her breathless in her powder room was kind of momentous. As in, it had never happened before. As in, she was going to be thinking about it for a long time. But evidently, to him it was no big deal.

  “Shoot me that address,” he said. “I’ll try to swing by later.”

  “You can’t just ‘swing by.’ It’s surveillance work. I have to keep a low profile.”

  The corner of his mouth curved up. “I’m a master at stealth.”

  “Seriously, Jake.”

  “Seriously, text me the address.” He stepped closer and dropped a kiss on her forehead, as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “And be careful out there.”

  Jake watched the sweat-slicked joggers pounding along the boardwalk. These were the early birds, the true fitness nuts who got up at oh-dark-hundred on Sunday mornings to get in their PT before the masses descended on one of L.A.’s most popular beaches. By nine, this place would be swarmed with Rollerbladers, volleyball players, and tourists.

  Jake scrubbed a hand over his beard. It was itchy as hell, and he wished he had time to shave, but that wasn’t happening. He combed his hand through his hair, then reached into the back of his truck. Rummaging through his backpack, he found a clean T-shirt and a toothbrush. After changing his shirt, he got out and made use of the toothbrush, spitting in the sand. Then he zipped everything back into his pack, locked his truck, and surveyed the area.

  It was a nice morning. A light mist hung over the beach, and the water lapped against the shore. The air felt cool and breezy, and he knew it was a lot warmer here than in the San Bernardino Mountains.

  Jake pictured his brothers stumbling out of their tents by now, grumbling as they tried to get some coffee going over a campfire. Except that there was a burn ban, so they were probably standing around the tailgate of his dad’s Escalade, trying to figure out how to hook up someone’s Keurig to the car battery.

  Guilt needled him, but Jake tried not to think about it. They were doing fine without him. None of his brothers could cook worth a damn, but they’d probably managed to char a few steaks and open a can of beans. No doubt, they’d spent the evening drinking bourbon and swapping stories about their wives and kids and jobs. Jake’s brothers had much more in common with one another than they’d ever had with him, and whenever he was around, there was a stiffness to the conversation. He always felt like he was being interviewed. Jake had reached a point in his life where he was much closer to his SEAL brothers than to the brothers related to him by blood. Living through countless harrowing missions together had that effect.

  Jake leaned against his back bumper and checked his phone. Not a word from Lexie, and he hadn’t expected one. She probably planned to spend the day dodging him, and he didn’t intend to let her.

  You still at the parking garage? he texted her.

  A few seconds ticked by. A text bubble appeared as she responded.

  How did u know that?

  He smiled.

  Where ru? she asked.

  Venice. Got some new info. Meet me at Tio’s when you leave.

  She pondered that for a good thirty seconds before responding.

  Ten minutes.

  He’d guessed right, and her shift ended at six. If he guessed right again, she was tired and hungry after spending the last seven hours cooped up in her car. And she was wondering about the “info” he had, too.

  Jake knew Lexie better than she realized. And he knew her burning curiosity would outweigh her desire to avoid seeing him. The job came first for her, trumping any personal issues. It was something they had in common.

  Jake thought about what had happened at her house. He hadn’t planned to kiss her—it had just sort of happened when she was staring up at him with that wounded look on her face
, as though she was the one who’d gone skidding across a sidewalk at thirty miles an hour. Lexie acted so brisk and businesslike all the time, and that brief glimpse of emotion had hit him like a sucker punch. He’d kissed her without thinking about it.

  She’d caught fire. There was no other way to describe it. She’d responded with not just her mouth but her arms and her legs and her entire perfect body. He’d loved feeling her let go of her inhibitions and kiss him like she couldn’t get enough of him. If she kissed like that, he could only imagine what it would be like to spend the night with her.

  The problem was timing. Jake made his way toward Tio’s food truck, glumly tabulating how little time he had left to make things happen with her. He’d been thinking about her for months, fantasizing about her for months. Now he’d finally made a breakthrough, and he had to leave soon.

  Most days, Jake loved his job, and being gone didn’t bother him. Every now and then, it sucked.

  Tio’s Tacos was a silver camper with a hand-painted sign. Even at this early hour, there was already a line of cyclists in helmets and skaters with their boards. Jake surveyed the area but didn’t see Lexie yet. He took a place in the queue and answered a text from his teammate. Jake had reached out to him last night for some help with Lexie’s case.

  “Hey.”

  He turned around, and there she was, looking much more alert than he’d expected after pulling an all-nighter. She still wore that snug-fitting tank top and jeans, but her long-sleeved white shirt was tied around her waist now. Her hair was twisted into one of those messy buns, and loose wisps blew around her face.

  “Morning.” He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. “How was your night?”

  “Long. But over, thank God.” She turned to the food truck. “You’re eating again, I see?”

  “Whenever I can.”

  She gazed up at him, and something flickered in her eyes. Was she thinking about last night? She was, he could tell. And he resisted the urge to kiss her right there in the taco line.

  “You must be beat,” he said.

  “Actually, I’m wide awake. Mainlining coffee will do that to you.”

  They stepped up to the order window, and Lexie surprised him by getting only a bottle of water. Jake ordered a large taco basket and extra salsa, with the intent to share. They grabbed a plastic number and claimed a weathered picnic table under a rainbow umbrella.

  “You’re very slick, you know that?” She twisted the top off her water.

  “How’s that?”

  “Just when I’m on my way home to crash, you dangle new intel.”

  He smiled. “Caught that, did you?”

  “First, though, how did you know where I was?”

  “West end of the block, top of the movie theater parking garage.”

  “But how’d you know that?”

  “It makes sense. Bird’s-eye view. Unobstructed. Invisible from the subject’s house.” He shrugged. “It’s the same place I’d pick if I was doing overwatch.”

  She swigged her water and set the bottle on the table. “So how did you manage to come up with something new between last night and now?”

  “I’m resourceful.”

  Jake looked at her for a long moment, letting his gaze linger on her plump pink mouth. He’d always wondered about that mouth, and now he knew. And he also knew there was no way he was going to let go of this without seeing it through. Forget catching up with his brothers this weekend. Lexie had his undivided attention between now and Tuesday, when he had to be back on base by noon.

  “What’s that look?” she asked.

  “Just thinking how glad I am you called me.”

  “Oh.” She looked wary. “Really?”

  “Really, I’m happy to help. And I’m glad to get to spend time with you.”

  She bit her lip, and Jake felt a shot of lust.

  “Well, what’s this intel?” she asked. “Because if you made that up just to get me here, I swear to God—”

  “I didn’t make anything up. I talked to Mario again.”

  “Mario the gun guy?”

  “Not his official handle, but yeah. He did some poking around about Jerome Matapang.”

  A teenage kid with about a dozen piercings in his face stopped at their table with Jake’s taco basket and two extra salsas, as requested. Jake had three foil-wrapped breakfast tacos. He put one in front of Lexie and unwrapped one for himself.

  Lexie didn’t even look at the food. “What is Jerome in the market for?”

  “According to Mario’s sources, he’s looking to buy four MP5s and three Kevlar vests.”

  Her eyebrows tipped up. “MP5s?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Did Mario sell him some?”

  “No. I told you, he’s not a dealer. But he’s got connections, and he heard this guy was in the market for guns and vests.”

  “And did he get them?”

  Jake paused. “Mario said he doesn’t know.”

  “You don’t sound like you believe that. Maybe he’s holding out on you.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I want to talk to him. I want to find out what else he knows.”

  Jake was prepared for her to say that. He’d already resigned himself to setting up a meeting between the two of them.

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  She leaned forward. “It’s important, Jake. Mario might have talked to someone who actually made the deal and—”

  “I know.”

  She didn’t seem totally satisfied with this answer, but she let it go. She watched him as he opened his taco and drizzled salsa over the sausage and cheese.

  “Why three vests and not four?” she asked.

  “Don’t know. Maybe he’s got one already.”

  Lexie rested her elbows on the table and sighed. “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “Submachine guns. That’s not what I expected.”

  “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. Given the connection with the unidentified bomber . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking explosives. Sounds more like they’re planning a bank heist. Or a kidnapping.”

  “You’re tired.” Jake chomped into his taco.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Means you’re not thinking creatively. They could be planning to storm a building, or shoot up a concert, or take over a commuter train.”

  “Okay, true.”

  “Don’t think bombs just because that’s their track record. There’re plenty of high-impact things they could do with MP5s and Kevlar.”

  “No, you’re right.”

  “You shouldn’t get pigeonholed with one idea.” He finished off one taco and unwrapped another. “Aren’t you going to eat that?”

  She blew out a sigh. Her gaze fell on her taco, and she quietly unwrapped it.

  “Hey, you’re welcome.”

  “Thank you.” She looked at him. “I appreciate the legwork.”

  “Like I said, happy to help.”

  She nibbled the taco, watching him. “How’s the shoulder?”

  “Stiff.”

  “I’m guessing you didn’t get it checked out?”

  “It’s fine.”

  She gazed out at the surf, and he caught that look of concern again. It tugged at him. She’d actually been worried about him last night. She’d been emotional and vulnerable, and he’d taken advantage of the moment by kissing her. He’d do it again in a heartbeat.

  He watched the pale column of her neck as she sipped her water. Her arms were slender, but she had muscle tone, too, and he could tell she worked out. She took her training seriously and kept in shape, so she could do her job.

  She turned to look at him, resting her elbows on the table. “So listen, Jake.”

  “I think I hear a lecture coming.”

  “About last night. That shouldn’t have happened. And it shouldn’t happen again.”

  “Why not?”

  “Be
cause. We’re working together again. And I don’t want to complicate things.”

  “Why’s that?”

  A worry line appeared between her brows. “Because . . . you’re leaving, aren’t you? On Tuesday? It’s probably better if we don’t let things get personal.”

  “That’s your opinion.”

  She just looked at him.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I like you, Alexa. I like spending time with you. When I spotted you at O’Malley’s, I thought I was seeing things, because for six long months, you wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

  She just stared at him, looking conflicted.

  “What? Say something.”

  “I think . . .” She shook her head and looked away.

  “What is it?”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you.” She folded her arms. “Dating men I work with is not a good career move for me.”

  “We’re not exactly coworkers.”

  “We met through work,” she countered. “Our professional circles overlap. And work is the reason we’ve crossed paths again now.”

  Ouch. Jake hadn’t realized until that moment that he’d been holding out hope that there was a personal reason she’d come to him for help.

  Maybe he’d been right to hope. If she’d just wanted a SEAL, she could have asked Ryan or Ethan—basically, any of his teammates. Every one of them knew who she was ever since the joint operation with her CT team. But she’d come to him. And the simmering attraction he’d felt when he first met her had only gotten hotter.

  Jake swigged his water and watched her. Last night she’d let her guard down. Only for a few brief moments, but it was enough to keep him in the game, enough to give him a glimpse of the real woman underneath all the armor. He wanted more of her. Not just sex—although that was high on his list. He wanted to get to know her.

  She was looking at him now, obviously waiting for some sort of reaction.

  He smiled and shook his head.

  “What’s that smirk mean?” she asked.

  “Nothing.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Why does it seem like this is a game to you?”

  He tried to cover his surprise at the word “game,” as though she’d read his mind.