The Enforcer Page 6

  “That you think that has me concerned.”

  “Now you sound like Wren.” Matthias hated to admit it, but he wished Wren were there. He might have some newfound female insight. “Did you at least get me a room at the inn? I need some clothes and other items. After a night sleeping in my car, I’m ready for a change.”

  Garrett made a face. “Fuck you. Am I your travel assistant now?”

  The reaction eased some of the frustration pounding inside Matthias. There was something about seeing Garrett, usually in control and cracking jokes, lose his temper that made the world spin right again. “I can continue to sleep in the car, if needed. I’m not soft, like some people.”

  Garrett scoffed. “Or you could go home. You live less than an hour away.”

  True, but she was here. Kayla, the one he was sent to track and interrogate. The same one who made his dick twitch just by talking to him. That sexy voice practically licked across his balls.

  “I’m staying here.” Until he figured this out, got some answers or lost his mind. One of those. “I need to talk with Kayla and I need to make sure she doesn’t run.”

  Garrett shook his head. “Damn. My cat is going to die if we have to stay away that long.”

  “You have a cat?”

  “Cats are cool.”

  Matthias really couldn’t refute that. Any animal that had honed the fuck-you stare like a cat did deserved his admiration. But the rain had started and Matthias wasn’t in the mood to stand in a downpour and talk kittens. “The room?”

  Garrett took out his phone. “Right. We may as well get used to this town, since it looks like we’re staying.”

  “For now.” For however long it took.

  Chapter 8

  Kayla stepped out of the café kitchen the next afternoon and slammed to a halt. The grilled cheese she was carrying slid across the plate, right to the edge, but didn’t fall off. No skill involved. Just plain luck, which she hoped meant a streak had finally kicked in.

  She’d survived the café’s version of a morning rush as some of Lauren’s clients came in to pick up their prepurchased boxed lunches. Then the summer camp showed up. Twenty kids in matching red T-shirts, all screaming and jumping and otherwise excited for a day on the water as they ate breakfast and collected their lunches for later. The usual crowd that stopped in after that then buzzed out again.

  Now this guy.

  She dropped off the sandwich and managed a half smile for the man sitting by himself in the corner booth. A quick circle back and to the counter and a pretend drop on the floor and she spied her gun, needing the reassurance that it hadn’t moved. Then she picked up the coffeepot before heading for Matthias. The pot in her hand and the pen in her pocket served as her only weapons. She’d make them be enough.

  Fighting back every instinct to take off for the front door, she stayed steady. Walked until she stood right next to him. “Did you get my text?”

  He glanced up from his cell. “The one you sent this morning to cancel dinner last night?”

  “Something came up.” But she did take a second to peek at his cell. Lines of characters. It looked like gibberish.

  He put his phone on the table facedown. “Uh-huh.”

  Fine, they’d do this the hard way. She glanced at the empty booth across from him. “Where’s your sidekick?”

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “It would drive him apeshit to hear that description, so please call him that.”

  Just that little bit, the flash of perfectly lined white teeth and the way his face lit up for a second, threw her off. She gave her body a little shake and tightened her grip on the handle of the pot. It would absolutely work as a weapon if she needed it to.

  Time to broach the subject. “I shouldn’t have made the dinner date.”

  “Why did you?”

  Him being here . . . she had no idea what that meant. He didn’t look angry or annoyed. His expression matched the one he’d worn since she met him. Determined and rough around the edges. In control even though she’d treated him kind of shitty yesterday.

  So, she went with a partially true response. “I got the sense you were playing a game and I wanted to end it. Maybe send you away with a bit of a sting?”

  “But I like the coffee here.”

  This guy did not pick up on obvious hints. “So?”

  His smile grew wider. “Is there anything I can say that won’t piss you off?”

  “Doubtful.”

  The tension snapped. She waited for a shot of fear to hit her, but it never happened. She couldn’t explain it. Maybe it had something to do with his deep chuckle. It echoed around her, vibrated through her.

  “I feel as if I can’t win this argument,” he said.

  Enough. She had to get a grip. She kept finding him a little charming, and that was not okay. Not on top of the wild attraction her burst of fear hadn’t killed last night.

  Today he wore a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top. No suit coat but dark gray pants. The informal business attire didn’t fit the rough-and-tumble vibe he gave off and really didn’t fit with his choice to eat at a casual sandwich place by the water. Despite that, he looked at ease and self-confident. He didn’t blend in because a guy with that face and an intense stare didn’t fade into the background. No, he commanded attention, and he sure had hers.

  But she noticed more than the clothes and the attitude. The short black hair ruffled either by the leftover wind from last night’s storm or his fingers. Eyes so dark she couldn’t see his pupils. The broad shoulders. Yeah, those were tough to miss since they took up most of his side of the booth.

  “You know I take walks. How? Are you watching me?” She couldn’t ignore that fact or afford to downplay it.

  “Nothing nefarious. I saw you go two days ago and thought it might be a good way for us to talk.” He shrugged. “Clearly mentioning it made you antsy.”

  She needed to keep her defenses up and in place until he either left town or she understood his motives. Something about him didn’t add up. She wasn’t buying the in-town-working-and-flirting-on-the-side story of his. For now, she’d keep the attitude. She could always surrender it later, when she knew she was safe.

  “What do you really want?” She leaned against the outside edge of the booth across from him. “And if you say coffee, I’m dumping this pot on you.”

  He glanced to where she tapped her fingernails against the side of the pot. “Fair enough.”

  “Yeah, I know.” When he didn’t say anything, she tried again. “I’m still waiting for an explanation.”

  He nodded toward the open seat across from him. “Sit down and have a cup of coffee.”

  She’d bet that kind of thing usually worked in his world. He ordered and people obeyed. Not her. “Nope.”

  “Why?”

  “You may be a boss, but you’re not my boss.” No, that title belonged to a very eccentric and lovable artist, an older woman who was out of town taking care of her even older mother. Kayla guessed Cecelia was about seventy-five. Since Cecelia insisted her mother had given birth later in life, Kayla had no idea how old the mother could be.

  Cecelia checked in every other day, and the idea of running and leaving her without someone to keep Gerald in line in the kitchen and the bills paid was another source of guilt for Kayla. She hadn’t thought about the problem in her flurry of activity last night. She’d thought about it all day so far. The café opened from seven to three. Breakfast and lunch but no real dinner six days a week, which left a lot of shifts to cover if she raced out of town.

  “And coffee isn’t possible because I’m working.” She actually hadn’t meant to add that. Not at all.

  He leaned forward and balanced his elbows on the edge of the table. “Then agree to talk with me on a break. We’ve done that several times.” He held up his hands in what looked like mock surrender. “No ulterior motives. Promise.”

  The lack of anger in his voice struck her. Most guys who were left waiting in a restau
rant would not come back for a potential second whopping. She’d never describe him as relaxed, but he didn’t pulse with rage. He remained the imposing figure with a husky voice and strangely welcoming look in his eyes who’d intrigued her from the start.

  She didn’t trust him, but for the first in a long time she didn’t trust her instincts either. Her read on him kept bouncing and shifting, and she hated the confused sensation. “I can’t figure out if I’m supposed to hit you with a frying pan and call the police or . . . something else.”

  “I vote we try the ‘something else’ option.” He sat with his fingers linked, palms together.

  Her gaze bounced down to his watch. She’d noticed it before. Nothing fancy. A black band that didn’t look like leather. It was big with a dark face. “If this is some big revenge dating move, you should know it sucks.”

  “I like to think I can be smooth.”

  She hummed. “That’s not my experience.”

  His smile came roaring back. “Let me buy you that cup of coffee and prove I’m not a scary guy. Right here. In the open. You can hold a pan, the coffeepot, a spoon. I don’t care.”

  God, why was she tempted? Less than four days ago something in his affect, in the way he moved and how anger blanketed him, warned her. The suffocating tension had her ready to run, and she would have if not for the calming talk from Lauren. But now the thought of sitting down and talking to him tugged at her. Maybe he was a bad guy or one of the good ones. She was just so tired of not being able to recognize one from the other and constantly looking over her shoulder.

  Still, she’d lived hard for seven years and was still breathing because she was careful. Exactly because she did not give in to idle curiosity. “Coffee’s not a great idea.”

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “Not you.” But his unblinking stare did start a trembling low and deep inside her.

  He didn’t move except to nod. “Good to know.”

  “Really? Because I got the impression you wanted me scared.” He sure as hell had her all jumpy.

  “You don’t strike me as someone who shakes easily.” His gaze wandered over her, down her body.

  She put a second hand on the side of the coffeepot to keep it from rattling. “Very perceptive of you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Let’s just say I have trust issues.” Understatement of the decade.

  “Hello.” His sidekick slid in without a word. He stood next to her, glancing down at her. “Is he bothering you?”

  “No,” said the “he” in question.

  She shrugged. “Sort of.”

  “I tend to believe her.” The sidekick held out his hand. “I’m Garrett.”

  She took it then glanced at Matthias. “After a failed date attempt last night—”

  “Caused by you.”

  “—Matthias was asking me out for coffee.”

  Garrett’s eyebrow lifted. “Sorry I missed that. Did he have any finesse?”

  “Almost none.”

  This time Garrett nodded. “Just as I feared.”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  Ignoring Matthias’s outburst, she focused on Garrett. He struck her as the chatty one anyway. “Are you in town for business, too?”

  “Why are you asking him?”

  She finally gave in and talked to Matthias again. “I sense he’ll actually answer me. You, I’m guessing you’ll play word games that don’t really tell me anything.”

  “She totally gets you, man,” Garrett said.

  Matthias glared. “Don’t help.”

  A weight lifted off her. If these two planned to hurt her or grab her, she guessed they would have done it by now. And they wouldn’t be wasting time joking in a café in Annapolis.

  With that little bit of emotional freedom, she relaxed. She didn’t quite slip back into flirting mode like she uncharacteristically had when she’d first met the boss man, but she no longer strangled the coffeepot handle in a death grip. “The suits. The serious expressions. The repeated stops for coffee here even though you don’t exactly look like boating types.”

  Matthias had the nerve to look offended. “I’m fine on a boat.”

  That made one of them. “Really? They make me sick.”

  He pointed in the general direction of the marina. “You said that before, but I will remind you the water is right there.”

  “The café isn’t on it.” She didn’t get people’s fascination with being in the water. Let the fish have it. Stay off their turf was her motto.

  “We’re from the DC area, here on business,” Garrett said.

  Now, that was interesting. She looked at Garrett again, hoping to keep him talking. “At the marina?”

  “Yes.”

  Uh-huh. No way. “I believed you right until there.”

  She waited for the nerves to come back, but they didn’t. She stood there, coffeepot in hand, feeling in control and free from panic. It was a stark contrast to last night when she’d sat in a chair in the middle of her small studio, fully dressed and listening for any stray noise.

  “Smart woman.” Matthias grew serious and stiffened when the guy with the grilled cheese across the room dropped something on the floor that made a clanking sound. Then he looked at her again. “Now will you have that coffee?”

  Garrett made a strangled sound. “So smooth.”

  “I almost feel sorry for him.” She didn’t, really, but poking at the guy appealed to her on some level. Probably had something to do with trying to shake his in-control exterior.

  Garrett winced. “He is kind of bad at this.”

  “I did fine for a few days and then . . .” Matthias shook his head. “Well, never mind.”

  “I would trust her to say that, but not you,” Garrett said.

  Matthias stared back at him. “You could wait in the car.”

  She enjoyed the byplay more than she would have thought possible. “And not very friendly.”

  Matthias exhaled nice and loud. “So, yes to coffee? We’ll try again.”

  Garrett shook his head. “Wow.”

  New customers filed into the café. A couple sat at one table and two older men who came every day and made a piece of pie last two hours found a booth. Their presence meant it was time to get back to work, which she almost regretted.

  Matthias kept looking at her and she took pity on him. He likely didn’t want or need her charity, but he was going to get it. She gave in. “It’s raining on and off, so I’ll probably take a break in here after I handle these folks. If you’re still around, you can buy me coffee.” But she was not dropping her guard. Not today or any other day. “Just keep in mind you’re on probation this time. I’ll be holding the frying pan the entire time and I have great aim.”

  “I think I missed something,” Garrett mumbled.

  Matthias never broke eye contact with her. “I’ll be here.”

  “I somehow knew you’d say that.”

  He’d truly dodged a bullet. Forget dinner; it had taken some fast talking to get another shot just at coffee. They’d taken a huge step back.

  An hour later, Matthias managed to convince Garrett to go back to the room and work. Threatening him helped. So did Garrett’s apparent realization that he could use the time to give Wren an annoying status report. Matthias was sure he’d get a smartass text about what Wren heard any second.

  But, for now, Matthias was exactly where he wanted to be. In a café booth away from the window. One of only four occupied tables and the perfect spot for him to watch Kayla pack up what looked like carryout containers.

  Once she had everything bagged and the food and coffee served, she headed over to his booth. Without him asking, she slid onto the bench across from him. Even put her foot up on the edge of the seat beside his thigh.

  She flattened her palms against the table. “I’m still on duty, so if I jump up that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re in trouble.”

  He didn’t have any coffee but decided not to point that o
ut. “Understood.”

  “So . . .” She looked at her fingernails before glancing up at him again.

  He had no idea what that meant. “What?”

  She shrugged. “You wanted to talk.”

  Since the second he’d seen her, he’d wanted to touch her and taste her and see what she wore under that slim uniform. Now he wasn’t sure how to respond without sending her racing away again. Just proved how fucked up his mind was right now, and he could not figure out why he kept spinning over her. “Right.”

  Her foot dropped to the floor but she didn’t rush away or even sit up straight. “You do know how, right?”

  Thinking about her foot led to thinking about her leg . . . and he had no idea what they were even talking about. “You lost me.”

  “Is this supposed to be a date or something else?”

  He decided not to put a name on it and skipped forward instead. “I’m concerned.”

  “You have my attention.”

  The fact she didn’t stall or evade impressed him. “I saw the way you reacted to me yesterday.”

  She winced. “You creeped me out.”

  There was that word again. Sure, he could be intimidating, but he saw that as a positive.

  She continued to sit there. No fidgeting. No shifting around. It was as if someone had stapled her butt to the seat.

  “I really like smart women.” He had no idea why he mentioned that. It was the truth, but this hardly seemed like the time.

  “For the record, you still sound a little creepy.”

  Now she was just trying to annoy him. That had to be it.

  He decided to ignore the attempt. “I run a security business. I can sense when people are in trouble and need help. My impression was that you were one of those people.”

  She sat up straighter and that one foot slipped to the floor. “Your Spidey senses malfunctioned.”

  His mind went blank. “My what?”

  “Spiderman.”

  He’d somehow lost control of the conversation. “Still confused.”

  “You creeped me out and—”

  He groaned. Wasn’t quiet about it either. He might even institute a new office rule that no one was allowed to say creepy in his presence for at least a year. “Maybe we could use another word?”