“A sweet kid who just needs someone. Yeah, you said that about Nadia—up until she stuck a knife in you.”
Trent winced. “Okay, so she was one—”
“And that chick in Brazil? What was her name? The one working with the drug cartel to kidnap her boss? Kim in South Korea—you trusting she wasn’t going to sell you out, that went so well.”
Trent drank his coffee. “Chloe is different.”
“Heard that before. Bro, you’ve got this thing for a big pair of eyes and a sad story.”
“Chloe hasn’t told me any sad stories.”
“Really? No mention of her dad’s accident? Having to move off of the family spread? No word about how she didn’t end up married to her high school sweetheart?”
Stiffening, Trent asked, “Okay, how’d you hear about that?’
Travis waved at his computer. “Bro, engagement shows up in the local paper, but a wedding photo never does. No marriage license recorded. Doesn’t take a degree in math to put those together. If Slade finds out you’re breaking his ‘don’t trust and do verify’ rule, you are going to get one serious earful.” Turning, Travis pulled his computer out of hibernation with a few key strokes. “Lucky you, she does check out.” Glancing at him, Travis lifted an eyebrow. “But did you even think to check her story?”
Face warm, Trent shook his head. “No time.”
“You mean, too busy getting into her pants.”
“All part of the plan. Look, you said it, those computers are behind a firewall that’s majorly secure. We need local access to their network—meaning I need Chloe to trust me enough that I can drop by without her freaking and calling me a stalker.”
“So you sleep with her instead? Bro, I hope you know what you’re doing. Not that she’s not hot.” Travis hit the computer keys and pulled up telephoto images of Chloe shrugging into her wet suit—and pulling it off, as well.
“That’s one fine as—”
“Watch it, dude.”
Travis grinned. “I was going to say asset. Get your mind out of the gutter and back on the job, or Slade will be giving us the worst, most boring baby-sitting job next to remind us we’re supposed to be pros.
Standing, Trent met his brother’s stare. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Yeah, just like in Bosnia. Just remember, too, we’re in the US of A. You pull a stunt like in Bosnia to get out of things, not even Slade will be able to get your ass out of jail.”
Trent shrugged and grinned. “With Chloe helping me, it’s an easy in and out.”
“Sure, sure…oh, and Mrs. W. says next time you better at least stay for breakfast or she’s whooping your ass for being a jerk.”
Trent waved. He went and caught a few waves to make his excuse for being up early a valid one. He headed over to pick Chloe up for lunch. He took her to a local taco stand—surfers weren’t supposed to have much money, since they spent most of the time in the water. He also tried to hang around the Guardian’s office afterward, but a group of school kids came in for a tour. Trent bailed before he could be drafted into entertaining the cranky rug rats.
He had time enough to leave a few listening devices. He’d have to have a go at their network from Chloe’s computer later.
Chloe came over to his place that evening. He met her at the door, had her clothes off in a record thirty seconds, and took her up against the wall, her ass in his hands and her legs wrapped around him. There were advantages to smaller girls you could hold up against you. He took her to bed, brought snacks to bed, and spent some time eating peanut butter and chocolate sauce off of her breasts, belly, and toes—his sheets would be a mess, but it was worth it.
His proper little miss seemed to have no shame in bed—and a willingness to try just about anything. Except more sushi. He also finally got his wish to see her take him into her mouth and use that talented tongue of hers on him.
She fell asleep in his arms. Trent lay awake, thinking about what Travis had said. Sure, Chloe stirred that impuls
e he had to protect the weaker—he’d always had that, and in no way did he want to get rid of it. But Chloe really was different. This was different. Yes, he was using her; but he was going to make damn sure she didn’t get hurt in the process.
Now he just had to figure out how to make that happen.
***
Chloe was starting to wonder if maybe there was such a thing as love at first sight. She’d spent two days with him—two days of hot sex and sweet kisses and laughter. She hadn’t taken him to see her dad yet—she wasn’t ready for that, and she wasn’t sure that either Trent or her dad were ready, either. But at least she knew this was better than what she’d had with Sam Collins.
She’d just locked up the office when the headache started. She hadn’t had a migraine for well over a month now—stress tended to trigger them, however, and lately she’d been under enough stress to lay anyone low; what with having to relocate her dad and find a place for herself, and get a job.