Page 14

Present day hideaway in Pennsylvania …

Cobble paced, because it was the only thing he could do.

Andy was arriving soon, and as excited as he was about that, he also knew he was in for a fight.

But he was ready.

He was actually past ready. He’d been in hiding for nearly fourteen years, with constant assurance from Chuck and Andy that things could wrap up at any time; come to a head. But they hadn’t. And where had that gotten him? Over a decade of fake names, seven pack-up-and-moves—or was it eight—with no way of cementing anything permanent between him and the woman he’d come to love.

As much as the first two things sucked ass, the last one burned it. He was thirty-six, for God’s sake, and Andy was thirty-four. It was past time for them to have a real relationship; to contemplate living together, marriage, and kids. Hell, at this stage he’d settle for being able to see her on a whim, whatever that felt like, because spontaneity hadn’t exactly been a hallmark in his life.

Having Andy available all the time, any time, would be a vast improvement over their weekly burner phone calls, their clandestine bimonthly hook-ups at cheap motels, and the thing he always looked forward to; the entire week they’d spend together each time she helped him relocate. Their connection ran deeper during those interludes, but the precious days they allowed themselves, passed far too quickly.

The best, of course, had been the lovely period where she’d snuck away to be with him often at her parents’ compound, before they’d had to pack him up to leave. That separation had sucked. Cobble had come to know and love Andy’s family well. They’d given their blessings on the relationship that had blossomed between him and Andy, saying they’d welcome him as a part of their family. Not that Cobble had told Andy he loved her. He’d thought he had time. He’d been wrong.

Andy’s brother Nik, the attorney, had become involved with a case that had gone so high-profile, that reporters had started dogging the man’s heels and following him home. The family, along with Andy and Chuck, had determined it would only be a matter of time before one of the nosy journalists stumbled onto his presence, so he’d had to relocate. Again.

But never again.

Tonight, he and Andy would be having their first fight. Well. Their second huge blow out. The first had been when Andy had decided to risk her life to further their intelligence and go after the CIA operative. But they’d eventually made up, and subsequently butt heads over minor things many times thereafter. It had all been done in a healthy way; debating and arguing were par for the course with a strong-minded woman like Andy…or should he say Mizzay?

Nah . He couldn’t do that, though that’s what she was called these days. When she went on those clever and decisive over-the-top tirades Cobble actually enjoyed, she was definitely channeling her bad-ass self; the one who went by the name her SOS team had given her.

Today, however, would be difficult. Whether it was Mizzay or Andy who grabbed the helm once he stated his case, Cobble was ready for battle. She’d get an earful, and she wasn’t going to dissuade him from his new trajectory. Neither was Chuck, who would also have a fit once he found out. Oh, yes . Mizzay often played dirty and employed Chuck’s help when Cobble started second guessing their strategies regarding the ongoing case.

Not. This. Time .

Cobble had spent the last few years really thinking about things, and this was it. He’d made up his mind. The people who were after him would either be taken down, or Cobble would die.

Which was fine. He couldn’t keep living like this.

Cobble glanced at the clock again. Andy should be here soon.

He thought back over his day, and how for the umpteenth time in fourteen years he’d had to say goodbye to a job he loved and the people with whom he’d become friends. Nobody, not one of his work colleagues or buddies he’d gotten close to over the years, had ever understood why he’d had to move on, and he couldn’t tell them. Which sucked.

Cobble had spent many a night, drowning his misgivings in whisky, grieving the loss of those fleeting relationships.

For his sanity, he’d kept a list of all the people he’d wronged by skipping out of their lives. If they let him, he’d visit eventually and explain. Some, he understood, would probably hold their hurt close, not wanting his excuses no matter how valid. But some might be able to forgive Cobble, and become part of his new life once his adversaries were either dead or out of the way.

He squared his shoulders, staring out into the night.

One thing Cobble had never become, no matter the setback, was defeated. During his years’ long time-out—as he not-so-fondly called it—he’d accomplished a lot of things.

Once his career with the military had been cut short and after he’d taken on his second or third alias, he’d gone back to school. Not for any degrees in his own name, mind you, because how could he get credentials when he was registered under an alias? No. He’d taken all kinds of schooling just to exercise his brain and learn things he’d never had time to study when he was younger, coming from a family who revered enlisting young, and moving up in the military ranks before returning to civilian life to work in the trades.

College-time had been like candy to Cobble, augmenting his already proficient, hands-on skills.

He'd used the carpentry chops he’d honed as a teenager, working for his father, to get construction jobs, and like a lot of under-the-radar firms, nobody who hired him was ever concerned very much with references. They’d just asked him to prove himself on the job, which he’d done time and time again with relish, then kept him employed.

On another note, Cobble had wanted to keep up his self-defense training and finely-honed physique, so he’d joined as many martial arts and adventure clubs as possible along the way. He’d received multiple certifications, even graduating a twelve-week course as an instructor in wilderness survival. Other classes followed, in things completely unrelated to anything he’d done before; cooking, gardening, knitting…

These small additions were the perks that had kept him sane during his concealment; those, along with being placed with Andy’s family before having to move again. He’d felt very useful there, and had—for the first time since he could remember—been fully engaged in life instead of perseverating over his fucked-up situation; sitting in one of his other houses-of-the-moment, moping.

Like now…

Cobble looked around at the place he’d known as home for the past two years. This one, he might miss a little. It had an open layout that agreed with his need for space, and the kitchen was state-of-the art. Which was good. Some of the courses Cobble had taken over the years, were in advanced culinary arts, and he’d become…if not a gourmet chef, at least extremely proficient at the stove.

Maybe he could find a place like this where he and Andy could eventually settle.

Wishful thinking, but she also liked this house when she’d plunked him here two years before. His living room was airy, the bedroom good sized, and right now each space boasted large screen TVs that he would be taking with him this time when he left.

Andy had outdone herself finding this place. It was in a semi-rural area, with all the houses having enough acreage that you couldn’t spot your neighbors. You only knew they were there because you could see their lights at night. Cobble had had enough yard to plant his own garden full of vegetables, and had even dreamed once or twice of getting animals. Dogs, specifically, like the pair of Bullmastiffs he’d ended up adoring. Not that he'd been able to act on getting animals. Andy had nixed the idea early on, stating that some of Cobble’s future moves might have to be into apartments that wouldn’t be pet friendly. It had sucked, but…

Yup. The first thing Cobble was going to do when this whole debacle was over, was get a dog. Or two. He wondered how Andy would feel about that, but quickly squelched any worries. She loved slobbery mutts.

If Cobble were once again free to be himself, go where he wanted, do what he wanted for the first time since he’d been twenty-two, Andy wouldn’t begrudge him anything. He knew that.

When he’d first started out using safe-houses, he’d had very few possessions. Chuck and Andy had been able to move him using regulation-type sedans. Over the next bunch of years, he’d accumulated more stuff; specialized clothing and footwear, tools, mementos, sports equipment, photographs. That had necessitated Andy eventually upgrading to an SUV for transportation.

A short while ago, feeling cocky, Cobble had even purchased a now favorite chair and a king-sized bed. Those, along with his books—lots and lots of books—he refused to abandon, so now when Andy arrived, it was with a small moving van.

But this was the last time she’d need one; the last time Cobble would be upended.

Unbeknownst as of yet to Andy or Chuck, Cobble’s next stop would be in the Boston area.

Cobble fought nerves while staring out the large, back, picture window that overlooked the lawn, waiting for Andy.

And speaking of Andy…

Cobble glanced at the clock on the wall.

She should be here within the next half hour. Scratch that. She would be here within the next half hour. She’d never kept him waiting. It wasn’t her way.

Cobble paced some more, forming and reforming his arguments in his mind. Not that it would matter much, either way. Andy would fight him. Cobble wouldn’t give in. Andy would call Chuck, and Chuck would fight him. But this time there was nothing either of them could do or say that would discourage him.

Cobble refused to spend another minute as a ghost.

Headlights from a small, do-it-yourself moving truck finally pulled in the driveway, and a text came to his phone at the exact same time from an unfamiliar number.

Cobble wasn’t fazed. This was normal. He looked down at his device.

I just pulled in.

I know , he responded.

I brought Chinese, but it’s cold by now.

Sounds good anyway.

Despite his words, Cobble didn’t think he’d be able to eat anything. At least not until he’d gotten his upcoming plans off his chest and had convinced Andy of their efficacy. He’d thought this over extremely carefully, gone through the particulars again and again, and knew his scheme was solid. He just had to get Andy to see that.

He opened the door, and…

Damn. Andy grew more beautiful every day.

Her sleek, dark hair, left loose from her normal, ubiquitous bun, flowed gloriously around her shoulders, and behind the big round glasses he’d come to love, the sparkle in her vibrant green eyes couldn’t be hidden. Andy’s compact body, all five-feet-nothing of it, looked even more muscled and toned since the last time he’d seen her. He wondered what martial art she’d conquered in those several long months. Cobble couldn’t get enough of looking at her.

His cock roused as if saying she’s here, she’s here !

Cobble took the bag of food from Andy, absently placed it on a table to the left of the door, then swept her up into his arms, hanging onto her for dear life.

He breathed her in, and she did the same.

Andy was…everything to him, and that hadn’t changed since the moment they’d stopped fighting their feelings for one another and come together.

His hold tightened, and he simply hung on for an indeterminate amount of time. Cobble wanted nothing more than to kiss Andy silly, take her to bed and fuck all their combined frustrations away, but first he needed to bury his head in her neck and fill himself with her unique, intoxicating scent.

“Goddamn, Andy. I’ve missed you,” he groaned, nuzzling at her throat.

She kicked the door behind her closed with one foot, then ran her hands all over his tucked head, his shoulders, and his back.

“I’ve missed you, too.” She let him nuzzle for a while before giving vent to a small whine of frustration at his inaction to escalate. Throwing her glasses off, she leaped up, wrapped her ankles around his waist, and began…sobbing?

Yeah.

Cobble knew to expect it.

Mizzay didn’t cry. Missy never did, either. But Andy, his Andy? She’d given herself permission to be one-hundred percent human around him, and sometimes that meant bawling out her feelings when they first saw each other again, when things couldn’t be contained.

Like now.

Cobble looked on that trust as a high honor.

“Shh. Shh,” he soothed needlessly. “You’re here now. It’s all good.”

Andy sniffled several times, then finally sighed against his nape. “I know. I know. And it’s silly. We have a whole week ahead of us. It’s just that…it always goes by so fast,” she choked out, snuggling in.

Cobble stiffened. Should he leap right in and tell her that it wouldn’t be just a week this time, or should he hold her just a little longer?

Cobble chickened out. An arm full of Andy felt too damned good to waste. He pulled her head from its hiding place and proceeded to mop her now wet face with his shirt-cuff.

She laughed, blinking up at him. “What? You don’t want to kiss away all my snot?” she teased wetly.

“Well, I’ll take you any way I can get you,” Cobble assured her. “But since I happen to have this sleeve available…” He dabbed a couple more times, then shifted his hold so her breasts were firmly up against his chest.

He lowered his head slowly, ever so slowly to hers.

“You know what?” he murmured. “This is going to be the best kiss, ever.”

Andy snickered, as Cobble knew she would. It was something he always said when they met up again after their self-mandated, long separations. And…

When their lips met, it was like coming home.

Because Andy was what Cobble considered home. She had been since almost the beginning of this whole surreal cluster fuck. They’d both known they had a special connection, pretty much immediately, but it had taken them a long time to let themselves admit it and figure out the logistics. Now, however, if Cobble had his say, nothing more would ever stand in the way of them having a relationship.

Cobble deepened the kiss. He couldn’t get enough.

Andy was it for him, regardless of his circumstances.

She was bold, fearless. She gave as good as she got, and she didn’t put up with anyone’s bullshit. Not even his. Andy was a breath of fresh air in an otherwise stale world, and without her, he would have lost his sanity a long time ago.

Their tongues danced; their mouths fused. His dick grew insistent that he do something about the heat rising between them, but he refused to acquiesce. She needed to hear him out first, then spend all her anticipated anger before they squared things away and got busy between the sheets.

Despite what he’d soon be dropping on her, part of him knew that nothing would ever change the connection they felt toward each other. Cobble couldn’t explain it but… It wasn’t just physical. There was a deep, emotional bond between them that had kept him celibate when they weren’t together, simply because no other woman would ever hold a candle to Andy. There would have been zero bonding with someone who wasn’t her, and being with another female would be like using his own hand; simply a way to get the job done. That’s why jerking off was always his release of choice when Andy wasn’t around.

Minutes went by as they rediscovered each other, standing in his living room only feet from the doorway, devouring each other. Neither one of them could ever wait to be wrapped around the other; impatient where touching and rediscovering was concerned.

Cobble’s hands inadvertently slipped to Andy’s ass, and he tried mightily to fight the bodily needs that would have him going against his initial impulse to spill all before getting horizontal.

But he was losing the fight.

Andy, luckily, pulled back. “The food’s gonna get colder than it already is,” she whispered.

“Let it,” Cobble growled, still battling himself. “I need you.”

She tapped his chest. “And you’ll have me. All night, and for the next week. So…”

She unlocked her ankles and slid her legs down over his hips. Provocatively.

Cobble snorted. “Tease.”

“Yup. You know I like to build the sexual tension.”

She ran her hands up his chest and tweaked his hard nipples. Then she danced away from his questing hands to pick up the bag of Chinese and sashay her tight ass into his kitchen.

Cobble laughed, then sobered.

His somersaulting stomach wasn’t going to allow him to eat.

And little did Andy know that she was about to be so mad that she’d be forgetting all about not only food, but perhaps her libido as well.