Taking What's His (Shillings Agency 4)

Like being unable to form a quick-witted reply? Like being able to sleep, or feel normal? Like never forgetting what it was like to shoot his squad leader in the head, after he’d begged him to put him out of his misery? Of course he still had issues with all of that shit, but if he admitted it…Cooper would sack him. He would have to.

More than ever, he missed that life he’d once had before that horrible night in the fucking desert. Missed the guy he used to be. Missed being normal. But you felt normal with Lydia, and you slept, too, an inner voice whispered. You could have it, with her.

“Holt?” Cooper asked, his brows lowered. “You in there?”

How long had he been lost in thought?

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah, sorry. It’s been a tough road, but I’m fine. I don’t have any episodes any more. The headaches are gone, too. Thanks for giving me the job. I know there had to have been more qualified applicants.”

Ones who could still function fully. One who didn’t have a fucked up brain that couldn’t form coherent thoughts half the time. Who didn’t deserve to be fired for lying through his teeth to his boss. But Holt didn’t have a choice.

What boss in their right mind would keep a guy who suffered from migraines so severe he couldn’t function at a hundred percent for a whole week?

“I only hire the best,” Cooper said, not dropping his stare. “I hired you because you were the man for the job. End of story.”

Holt swallowed hard. He didn’t feel like the best man for anything. Not even for himself, and certainly not for Lydia. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Cooper inclined his head toward the file. “Let me know when it’s done, okay?”

“Absolutely.”

The door closed behind Cooper, and Holt leaned back in his chair, his fingers linked in front of his stomach. He liked his boss. In fact, he liked all the people he worked with. They were all fighters, like him, with various amounts of damage. Both inside and out. Of course, when he was with them, he felt like even more of a fuck up.

At least they didn’t stumble over words, or stay up all night staring at the unmoving ceiling fan because when it was on, they had episodes. Flashbacks of helicopters, and bombs, and blood. So much fucking blood. It felt like no matter how many times he showered, he’d never wash it all away.

Hell, Cooper was engaged and happy as hell. Jake was in love with a woman who hated him, but at least he’d been strong enough to fall in love in the first place. And Gordon was together enough to get a fucking princess to fall in love with him. They just needed a little push to get them back together, and it was Holt’s job to give it to them.

Again, Lydia’s laugh crossed his mind, taunting him with its clarity. With its perfection. After he’d left her high and dry the other night, he’d had nothing but his hand and his memories of her to keep him company. And that’s all he’d had since, too. After easing the need a little bit, he’d felt as if he had a good hold on what to do next.

His best friend was her brother, so he obviously couldn’t avoid her forever—even though he’d done a pretty good job of it up until now. On top of that, he liked her. He didn’t want to avoid her. So at two in the morning he’d come up with the brilliant idea to be her friend. Her fucking friend.

Shit, he’d have better luck flying with bird wings than remaining her friend.

He’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t touch her again, and he’d lasted, what, ten minutes? They hadn’t even made it inside the building before he’d been on her, his hand between her legs and his tongue in her mouth.

But he was going to be her friend now? Dumbass.

Shaking his head, he opened the file and set to work at giving Gordon a shot at his happily ever after. A happily ever after he’d never have for himself.

By the time he was finished, it was ten after five, and he was free to go home. Still, he sat there at his desk, staring ahead. It was Monday night. Would Lydia be going out with friends? Hitting up a bar? Hitting on some guy? He’d introduced her to how much fun sex could be, so who was to say she wouldn’t want more now?

From some other guy, who might not treat her right?

He rose and grabbed his jacket. He needed a stiff drink or ten. He also needed to find some nameless girl, with an unmemorable face, bring her home, and fuck her until he forgot all about Lydia, and her beautiful laugh. Until he forgot how much he wanted her.

And how much he couldn’t have her.

…

Lydia leaned closer to her friend, struggling to hear her over the loud music. After her craptastic day, she’d agreed to go out dancing and drinking in a local bar. But now that she was here, she wished she hadn’t. Who the heck went to bars on a Monday night? She’d prefer to be at home in her Doctor Who robe, reading a good book, or binge watching some of her favorite episodes with David Tennant in them.

But instead, she was in a bar, in a too short skirt, in a too tight top, wearing a pair of heels that would more likely than not have her flat on her butt by the end of the night.

On top of that, she had no idea what to do about the phone call she’d gotten earlier. She’d been offered a job in Delaware. One that was amazing, and perfect, and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But it was in Delaware.

She didn’t want to move to Delaware.

“Hey,” Gianna pointed over her shoulder, “that hot guy over there wants you to dance with him.”