Salt Lake City, Utah.
The day they met.
Derek should’ve come earlier. He swore as he shifted through the mass of runners. Most operators hated crowds, and Derek Banez was no exception. The bodies crowding around registration tables made his skin itch, and he kept reaching for an imaginary holstered weapon. When he saw a flash of neon pink hair in the crowd, Derek zeroed in like a missile.
“Casey,” he called.
His cousin didn’t hear him. Derek yelled her name again as he dodged an elderly lady stretching in line. Casey turned and squealed. He hadn’t intended on participating in the 5K race, but as he planned to stay with his cousin for a week, and since it was for a good cause—a charity called sweat4schoolsupplies—here he was. Sponsoring school backpacks for underprivileged kids in the area was a no-brainer, so he’d run his tired ass down to the local park. He’d just returned from deployment, the last one serving as a Green Beret. Now, Derek was about to join a newly formed covert Taskforce—Mobile Intelligence Team—as their Protection Specialist and Sniper on Team Two. MIT2. Even the name sounded bad-ass, and he’d just met the first members of his team. His team leader—Erik Andersen—seemed solid, and a little anal. James Cane was the team medic, a huge beast of a man.
They were still selecting a fourth team member. At least Derek had some time off, and he supposed he’d need to up his already strenuous fitness game. A leisurely Saturday morning jog wouldn’t hurt, especially at such a pretty location. Early June saw blue skies, green fields and avenues of leafed trees.
Casey jumped into his arms, and Derek staggered under her enthusiasm. As kids, they’d always been inseparable. She wasn’t just his first cousin, she was one of his closest friends, and he hadn’t seen her in over two years.
Derek stood back to assess his short and curvy sidekick. Her blonde hair was now cotton candy pink. A colorful tattoo wrapped over her right shoulder, and yet another piercing decorated her left ear. She grinned up at him. He forgot how darn cute she was.
“You’re back from crusading through mysterious lands.” Her eyes sparkled.
“Aye, Aye, milady, and I bring gifts. They’re in my car.”
“Two years, that had better be a big-shitting gift.”
Derek laughed. “Damn, I missed your clever ass. Now where do I sign up for this gig?”
“Relax, we’ve got you covered. Here’s your race number.”
“We? Hell no, I’m donating to those kids.”
“There’s a separate donation table towards the back of the pavilion.” Casey pointed to a teeming table. “And there’s one at the finish line. And ‘we’ as in Kate’s cute derriere and my reluctant one. Kate is my best friend in Utah, you haven’t met her yet—she’s walking up behind you.”
Derek turned, and for the first time in his life, words eluded him. Derek wasn’t a recluse. When he wasn’t deployed, he dipped his toe rather generously in the dating pool. He enjoyed women and prided himself on never getting too involved. Some might call him a commitment-phobe, but Derek’s first priority was his career. He was one ambitious son of a bitch. Criminal Justice classes on the side, and Counter Terrorism studies kept him busy. He didn’t have time for relationships.
The goddess stretching her shoulder spoke. She had a slight Irish lilt, so subtle, it was barely noticeable.
“Case, don’t try and pee. That bathroom is a disaster zone. Find a bush, it might be more sanitary. And I’m not using a porta-loo, not after the last time.”
Her skin glowed, it literally glowed like an angel—a stark contrast to her blue-black hair. Derek studied her ultramarine eyes framed by dark lashes and brows. A stubborn-looking chin jutted out slightly, matching a gaze so direct that it took his breath away. His eyes ran over her hourglass shape. She looked like a 1940’s pin-up girl.
Casey giggled. “That was different. It was a rock concert.” She turned to Derek. “While Kate used a porta-potty at a Twin Peaks gig, a bunch of drunk dicks decided to brawl and fell into the potty, almost toppling it over.”
“Thanks for the reminder.” Kate shuddered. “And you’re spilling my secrets to a random jogging dude? I know he’s a hotty, but seriously?”
Derek felt himself blush—that was a first.
“My mute sidekick is actually my cousin—Derek.” Casey nudged him. “Say something so she knows you’re real. Not just a six-foot cardboard cutout for a Calvin Klein commercial. He talks, I promise.”
“Six-two, and are you girls done with making me feel like a piece of meat?” He elbowed Casey back and put some power behind the move.
“Ouch. Stop, you big lug.”
Kate didn’t say anything, just studied him. A couple more of Casey’s friends joined the group.
“Kate, don’t wait for me. I’m walking the 5K.” Casey grimaced. “And I’m taking my time.”
The announcer came over the system and told everyone to shuffle to the starting line. Kate turned and walked ahead. Derek’s eyes drifted to her shapely ass molded by athletic leggings. She had an ephemeral quality, yet she was curved in all the right places. He lengthened his stride to catch up. A beefy-looking man pushed past her, and Derek glared his way. The eager beaver barely noticed. With long strides, Derek caught up to the raven-haired beauty and watched her six. The crowds lined up as Derek stepped up behind her. A river ran along their right side. The route would follow the water all the way into the city.
“Do you jog on a regular basis?”
She looked back and raised her brows, pausing before answering. “Often enough to complete a 5K. Try to keep up.”
“Ouch. Why do you run?” Derek jogged on the spot and shook out his arms.
Kate sighed. “Because I love chocolate milkshakes and beer.”
“My kind of girl.”
“I doubt that. I think a Victoria Secret model is your kind of girl,” she said, stretching her thigh.
“You think I’m a player.” Derek grinned.
“I think you’re dangerous.”
“You don’t like danger? I can be a meek little lamb. Or a puppy? A Golden with a waggy tail.”
She tried to hide a smile. “Oh, you’re something else—I’m more of a cat person.”
“Liar. I bet you love all furry beasts.”
She shook her head and let her smile show. “Are you calling yourself a beast?”
“You said it, baby. I’m the beast to your beauty.”
“I think it’s the other way around. That girl over there—just walked into a tree while gaping at your pretty ass. No thanks, I like my men a little rougher around the edges.”
Leaning down, Derek whispered in her ear. “I can be as rough as you want me to be.”
He was close enough to see goosebumps break out on her arm. Her chest rose, but she kept her eyes trained ahead.
The gun went off and they shuffled forward. As Kate broke into a run, the overexcited dick-bag from earlier cut past, shoving a child aside, then ploughing past Kate. She stumbled, and Derek saw red. Surging ahead, he smoothly tripped the bastard, and the guy rolled into a ditch. “Oops,” Derek muttered as he kept running.
“I saw that,” Kate said from behind. “I also saw the dirtball push that kid.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about. Poor guy tripped over his own feet.” Derek dropped back beside her. She set a comfortable pace, and they ran in silence. It felt right, a symbiosis that needed no words. He kept looking her way, her breaths came out in quick rasps, and her nostrils flared slightly with each breath. For Derek, a 5K run was the warm-up to an additional two-hour training session.
“Kat, are you okay? Do you want to slow?”
She glared at the nickname. “You’re seriously trying to have a conversation while jogging, and you’re not even out of breath. Are you secretly Superman?”
He grinned. “C’mon, don’t let me jog alone. My poor heart won’t take it.”
“I need to babysit a big, brawny man’s heart?”
“Maybe. It doesn’t like to eat alone either. In fact, it’s craving a juicy burger—with fries.”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “You’ve got some plums on you.”
He grinned at the Irish saying but still persisted. “What do you say? After the run, we grab lunch, with a double chocolate milkshake on the side?”
“Oh, you’re dangerous all right.”
“Is that a yes, Kat?” Derek jogged backwards and clamped a hand on his chest. “Be still, my brawny heart. You’re smiling. That’s a fucking yes!” She couldn’t stop a giggle, and Derek whooped, running silly circles around his gorgeous jogging partner.
