Page 14 of Owen (Blue Team #1)

She has a name. It’s Natasha or Nat.

I was screwed.

The change in Nat was unmistakable. It was in your face. Punch to the gut. And straight-up beautiful.

So beautiful I knew I was screwed. I was fucked.

Over the months, she’d let some of her light shine through. Tiny pieces that she unintentionally let slip. So I knew she had a sense of humor, but damn, I hadn’t known she was funny. And I thought the smile she’d given me earlier was blinding, I was dead wrong.

The woman who had walked into the living room, smiling at the fire, cracking a joke, was beyond dangerous. Beyond blinding. That woman, the woman who called herself Natasha, she made you want to fall to your knees.

I could not fall to my knees. I’d never get up. I’d be lost. I’d drown in her. And damn if I didn’t want to. Not for a night, but for however long it lasted.

A hand curled around my shoulder and jolted me from my thoughts.

“Brother, your woman poisons my food I’m using your toilet,” Gabe said .

My woman?

Nat was not my anything.

I didn’t point this out.

“Then I’d go make nice if I were you because you’re not using my toilet. As a matter of fact, I’ll lock your ass out of the cabin.”

“Right,” Gabe mumbled and gave me a bone-jarring shake before he let go and walked away.

What he didn’t do was comment about me not denying Nat was my woman. Which I should’ve done. But I was too stunned by her about-face to contemplate why I hadn’t.

Kevin came down the stairs, passed me with a lift of his chin and a smile I didn’t like. He made his way into the kitchen, and because I didn’t like that secret smile of his one fucking bit I followed.

“Need help?” I asked Nat.

She looked up from the asparagus she was rinsing and cut her eyes to Kevin who was unwrapping the steaks.

“I don’t. Just going to sauté the asparagus and roast some red potatoes. But Kev might need help with his meat.”

Kev?

What the hell?

Kevin snickered and my gaze left Natasha and landed on my friend in time to see him grin.

What in the actual hell?

“What’s funny?” I demanded to know.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Kevin who answered since I was looking directly at him. But more shocking because the woman who normally kept quiet did the talking and she did it without pausing to take a breath.

“Your buddy over there has informed me he likes meat. He’s like a modern-day Dr. Seuss.

He’ll grill it in the rain. He’ll grill it in sleet.

He’ll grill it in the snow. I’m sure if I thought about it I could come up with a rhyme about all the places he likes to eat it.

Bottom line is I think he really likes it.

Though I don’t think he was talking about steak.

I’m new to sexual innuendos, but I’m positive there’s a joke in there somewhere and I’m fairly certain it would be offensive. When I think of it, I’ll tell you.”

Natasha paused, her head tilted to the side and her goddamn cheeks turned pink. I was so mesmerized by how beautiful she was I forgot I was pissed. Then she went on and I remembered. “Come to think of it, maybe you don’t want to help him with his meat. I think that’s code for his penis.”

Did she just say penis?

What the fuck?

“Say again?”

She didn’t skip a beat. Not a single pulse when she smiled hugely and said, “Penis?”

Kevin roared with laughter.

I did not.

No, I growled and it sounded furious even to my own ears. But the new Nat, the woman who was standing in the kitchen talking about goddamn meat and penises and sexual innuendoes didn’t flinch.

No. Not her. Instead, she swept the smile off her face and glared at me in mock annoyance. I knew she was faking because she was giggling.

Fucking giggling.

The mute woman I’d lived with for months was giggling.

I was beyond screwed. I wanted to scoop her up, take her upstairs, lay her out, and fuck her silly. Fuck her while she smiled. Fuck her while she giggled. Fuck her until she was boneless.

“If you don’t like the word penis, you shouldn’t have demanded I say it again.”

“What the fuck?” I muttered.

“She’s not wrong,” Kevin put in .

“Do you wanna explain what Nat’s talking about?” I asked Kevin.

“Not particularly.” He shrugged.

“Someone better explain why the fuck she thinks you like eating meat so much. And, friend, there better be a damn good reason.”

“Just to set the record straight,” Kevin grunted as he tried to get ahold of his laughter. “I don’t eat meat. I eat tacos.”

“Are you fucking ten?”

“God, I hope ten year olds aren’t talking about eating tacos,” he deadpanned.

“Jesus, fuck.” I shook my head and looked at the hardwood floor.

A small hand touched my back and heat seared through me but I didn’t move. I stood still waiting for the sensation to pass. It didn’t, it kept burning. So damn hot I knew without a doubt she’d branded me. No other woman’s touch would do. Never again.

“I don’t think he’s talking about taco tacos,” she whispered.

“You don’t say?”

Then she giggled again and my night went completely to shit when she rested her breast against my arm as her body shook with laughter.

“Before I don’t have any teeth left I’m going outside to grill my—”

“Swear to God, you say meat one more time I’m gonna kill you.”

“What’s wrong with meat?” Gabe asked as he walked into the kitchen.

No, that was the moment my night went to hell. Complete and utter hell. Natasha dissolved into a fit of giggles. She did this pressed tight, she did it for a long time, and through it all my body was on fire .

I waited until she was done and standing upright before I left the room.

The last thing I heard was Nat’s snickered words.

“Owen seems pretty sensitive about meat. Maybe we should turn vegetarian.”

Christ.

I couldn’t take this new Natasha. I needed her to go back to the soft, quiet woman I met.

The one who absolutely did not talk about meat, tacos, and dicks.

Each step felt like I was that much closer to the fiery misery that waited for me behind the closed bedroom door.

Dinner had been filled with all sorts of information.

Natasha had shockingly answered the guys' questions. None of them had been invasive, mostly they were about the places she’d traveled.

No one touched on her family. And by the end of the meal, she’d let her guard down and was talking freely, at least with surface information. Nat had even asked her own questions.

It was unnerving.

But the night took a turn after Gabe and I had cleaned up the kitchen.

Kevin had unearthed a deck of cards and poker chips.

Natasha’s gaze took in the cards like they’d bite her.

Then with all of us sitting around the table playing Texas Hold ’em Nat let a little more slip.

The first three games she lost, horribly and on purpose.

There was no hiding she’d thrown the games.

Gabe being Gabe, the shit talker he was, poked fun at her.

And if I wasn't actively trying to tamp down all emotion I would’ve been proud at the way she sat taller, glared, then proceeded to take the next two games like a pro.

Nat knew how to play poker. Not just knew, but fucking knew how to play.

If I didn’t know any better, and I was beginning to think I didn’t know jackshit, I’d say she was counting cards.

What I did know as fact was the woman had an unreadable poker face.

Throughout the games, she gave nothing away, not in her body language or expression.

It was as if she’d slipped into her comfort zone and three hours later with all the chips piled in front of her she looked crestfallen.

She was not dumb; she knew what she’d let slip.

A wealthy woman who lived a sheltered life did not play poker as well as she did.

Unless there was a reason. Being as her family were all gangsters involved in selling sex, protection, drugs, and anything else they could, gambling wasn’t a stretch.

The question was, what was Nat’s role? And why hadn’t our investigation found the gambling?

Nat’s kitchen table winnings equaled nine-thousand-one-hundred fake dollars.

Not bad for a few hours’ worth of work. At a high roller table, she could make ten times that much.

Before she disappeared upstairs she helped clean up, and no one said a word about her skills.

Gabe didn’t even grumble about losing his ass.

It was like the last few hours hadn’t happened.

Then she was gone.

Meaningful looks were exchanged between me and the team and I had no doubt Myles would be reporting this new piece of the puzzle to Garrett.

He ran all of Z Corps’ in-house investigations.

If there was something that ran beyond his scope Zane outsourced to a man called Tex.

And there was nothing Tex couldn’t hack.

One of the two men would get us what we needed once they were pointed in the right direction.

In the meantime, while we were waiting for Zane to make his move, I was living a nightmare with a woman I wanted but would never have.

And right then I was walking toward the bedroom I shared with her, where she was undoubtedly already in bed.

A bed we shared. A bed that I would get into and fight against the pull of her.

A bed we’d use to sleep in but a place where I wanted to do other things to her.

Fuck me.

Zane better find his way in and do it quickly.

I was fighting a losing battle and I knew it.