Javier (Alpha Heroes #12)

Chapter Six

Missy

As we neared the lake, I sensed Javier’s stare burning on my back. A quick glance showed me his attention was everywhere but on me. I let out a slow breath. In a way, his lack of interest was a relief. I didn’t like attention.

On the other hand, he was hot and handsome, and I wouldn’t have minded a tiny, itsy-bitsy dose of masculine appreciation or a compliment kinder than “wholesome.”

Wholesome. That was me. As in bland. Unremarkable. Plain.

I walked on for hours, pondering the insult that wasn’t really an insult, facing the reality that he was a player and was proud of it while I was…

Me.

Just me.

Eventually, my inexplicable surge of anger began to ebb. I’d never been one to hold a grudge, and he had a right to his opinions. His presence continued to be problematic. I felt it keenly, a pervasive buzz that flared into electric zaps in those few occasions our eyes met. My nerves sparked, my heart fluttered, and my skin sizzled. I was pulled to him by forces I couldn’t understand. Why was this happening to me?

One explanation was that I’d been out of circulation for over three years. The Sisters of Charity tended to women, children, and the elderly. My isolation from the male world could also help explain why this example of masculine gorgeousness had such a confounding effect on me. And that stolen kiss. Oh, God. I brushed my fingers over my lips. When our mouths merged, I’d felt alive, as if he’d flicked a switch inside of me.

Idiot alert. My sister Cece’s standard warning came to my assistance. We don’t trust men. They don’t want us. They want our father’s money. Hunks in particular are the fickle sort. They are tooled to lie and seduce.

Cece was smart and right. I had many good reasons not to trust men. My father was the biggest one of them. When you grew up being verbally hammered by your sperm donor until you were but a mush of yourself, you understood that men were buttholes. Sure, there were a few, rare exceptions—like Dash and Nix—but on the whole, men weren’t safe.

I’d given up hunks a while back. They only loved themselves. They preened like peacocks, sang their own praises, and fed their egos, floating in the shallow currents of their looks and their meaningless lives.

Helloooo, Prissy Missy. You’re sounding even more prissy than usual .

Okay, so maybe the “wholesome” episode made me too judgmental, but the Astor world had brimmed with gym-shaped bodies on the prowl for heiresses. I’d avoided them like the plague. My sisters and I had decided early on that we weren’t prized animals to be sold to the highest bidder only to be displayed like trophy heads in luxury mansions.

To be fair, the operator who’d come to fetch me didn’t act like an heiress hunter. He didn’t seem like a society fellow, either. He had a soldier’s speech, a Texas drawl, and a self-deprecating sense of humor. He was cocky. A little arrogant. Funny at times.

I liked that about him.

On the other hand, Javier fell squarely into my dangerous hunk classification. He was an experienced charmer, an amazing kisser, and a flirt with a golden tongue capable of tempting nuns to sin. Considering his puppy eyes, his toe-curling smiles, and his sexy bod, he was also a rogue who knew how to use his spectacular construction to lower a woman’s defenses.

But not my defenses. Nuh-uh . I knew better.

If anything, his appearance put me on notice. His good looks were nature’s way of warning me that I faced a dangerous creature. I was determined to squash whatever weird vibes came over me when he was around and not like him.

Even in those moments when I did.

No worries. I pounded the dirt with my sneakers. Any attraction between us was a one-way street, especially when his best compliment for me was “wholesome.”

Ahead of me, Sister Elsa tripped. The nuns were troopers, but we’d been walking for a long time. Keeping an eye on them, I slowed down and fell into step with Javier.

“The nuns are tired,” I said.

“You want me to carry Sister Elsa?”

“She won’t let you.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Last time I offered she told me she was blind, not lame.”

“That’s Sister Elsa for you.” I sighed. “How much longer?”

“Wow, thank you.” Although his eyes roamed the trail, one side of his mouth quirked up.

“For what?” I asked, curious.

“This is the first time I’ve heard your pretty voice in hours.”

Hunk alert . He was doing the manwhore thing, and I wasn’t playing.

“Save your charms for fish that will bite your lure,” I warned in a low voice. “Why waste my time babbling if I don’t have anything of value to say?”

“Spoken like a true introvert.” He widened his cocky smile. “I get the feeling you have a lot to say and all of it has value.”

I glanced at his profile. Was he BSing me or did he mean what he said?

“Do you wanna stop, then?” he asked.

“Is it safe?” I glanced over my shoulder at the trail behind us.

“Not really,” he said. “Not yet.”

“Then we keep going, I guess.”

“Good decision, Angel.” He patted his ruck. “Do you or the nuns need more water? A protein bar? Sunscreen? Insect repellent?”

“I’m fine and so are the nuns, well except for being tired.” He was being nice to me, and I hated it, especially since it came from a place of duty and pity. After all, I was his freaking mission.

“Can you please stop that thing you do?” He waved a big hand vaguely over his face.

“What thing?”

“That thing where you squint your eyes into tiny crescents and wrinkle your nose. It’s like a punch of uppity and a slap of scorn at the same time. It’s adorable, but also terrifying, and it scores a hit at the pit of my stomach every time you do it.”

“It’s called a frown,” I said, too primly, even for my standards. “Sounds like your frail self-esteem likes to hide behind your big ego.”

“I was told you were a nurse, and from what the sisters said the last time you went to take a leak, you doubled as a teacher at the orphanage.” He readjusted the weight of his weapon in his hands. “But I didn’t think you were a mind monkey. Or that I could piss you off so easily.”

“I’m not pissed.” I didn’t want him to know how much he affected me.

“Good.” He grinned. “Then we can forget about the ‘wholesome’ thing and move on.”

“I already did.”

He called my lie with a knowing smirk.

“We’ll be at the lake soon.” He quickened his pace and knocked his head. “Come on. Let’s make hay while the sun shines.”

As he moved forward, I couldn’t help but appreciate his stamina and build. He wore his dark brown hair short on the sides and slightly bristled at the top, a style that showcased the strength of his neck. His biceps tested the sleeves of his jacket. His muscular butt flexed nicely beneath his pants. Oh, yes, his butt was a work of art. He was a tactless, obtuse, bossy stunner with an ass to die for.

Unexpectedly, Javier tossed me a smirk over his shoulder and winked before he signaled for me to walk ahead of him. My face ignited as I marched past him, and it wasn’t from the heat, humidity, or the effort I’d put into our trek. The man was insufferable. He’d caught me looking, and he loved it.

Good grief.

For a gal who liked to keep her thoughts private, my light skin and vascular face were a sucky combination. It wasn’t only my face that was flushed. If the nuns knew about all the impure thoughts I’d had since Javier arrived, they’d send me straight to confession.

***

Javier

Dodging two sets of enemies meant we had to go slow and careful, but we arrived at the lakeshore at dusk. The sun painted the sky with golden strokes that set the lake on fire, outlining the darker domes of the pair of volcanos rising on the island across the channel.

“It’s so beautiful.” The light ignited the amber speckles in Missy’s eyes. “I’ll miss these views, and also the wonderful people of this country.”

I almost made a joke about not missing the soldiers hunting her, but the sight of her face alight left me speechless. When was the last time I’d been moved by beauty like hers? How about never?

Fuck my brain. I was heading straight for trouble.

I guided the women to the remote little cove where I’d hidden my cache of exfil supplies and the local skiff I’d sailed across the lake on my way in. It was a small, weathered boat painted in faded colors, a humble yola , as they called it in these parts.

“Before you say anything,” I volunteered to Missy as we dragged the boat out to the water under the cover of darkness. “I bought this piece of shit from a local fisherman. I’m not a thief. Are we clear?”

“Got it. You’ve got capitalist morals. Check.” She drew a mark in the air.

I glanced at her. Was she teasing or judging me? I was betting on the latter, but hey, I was thick-skinned. While she helped the nuns to board the little boat, I shook my head. Why did I even care if she liked me or not?

’Cause she kissed you and you liked it a hell of a lot, Marine .

I loaded my ruck then pushed the boat, jumped in, and, after pulling the cord several times, managed to start the little outboard motor. Taking the bench at the stern, keeping my hand on the tiller, I checked the coordinates and adjusted my course to a southeasterly heading, roughly in the direction of the San Juan River, the lake’s main drainage point.

Lake Nicaragua was the largest fresh water body in Central America. The night was dark, and the wind churned the waters into a choppy mess for most of the way. Water licked my boots and sloshed at the bottom of the old yola , soaking the women’s feet . Praying over their rosary beads, the nuns were taxed to the max. Never once did Missy complain.

Many hours later, when my Tak vibrated, I swept the shore with my flashlight and spotted my destination. After a few minutes of paralleling the shore, I turned south and motored into the darkness of a vast nature preserve. I steered the yola toward a brown water inlet, and kept going until I arrived at the small, muddy beach from where I’d launched.

I turned off the motor. As the keel scraped the murky bottom, I jumped out and hauled the boat ashore. I helped Missy out of the yola .

“Do you think the nuns can handle a run for the border tonight?” I asked.

Missy glanced over her shoulder and took in her friends before she met my gaze again. “They’re exhausted. Can you please give them a rest, even if it’s only for an hour or two?”

When Missy said ‘please,’ all my resolutions melted. “We’ll have a short rest.”

“Thank you.”

When Missy thanked me, it was my heart that melted.

I helped the nuns out of the boat and ordered them to wait for me at the beach. Moving quietly, holding my carbine at the ready, I scouted the shoreline north and south of us, then moved up the animal track across a swath of swamp. The trail gave way to higher, drier land, and led to a grassy patch notched between trees. An old, long-abandoned, lean-to, built of branches and brambles stood beneath a huge mango tree.

This was the spot from where I’d staged my infiltration on the way in. Walking the perimeter, I made sure the place was clear of threats. When I was sure it was safe, I trekked back to the lake.

“All clear,” I announced.

Missy helped the other women to their feet while I shouldered my ruck, pulled the skiff out of the water, and hid it among the bushes. Then I guided my companions to the mango tree. My mission was supposed to be a quick in and out, so I traveled light, which meant no sleeping bag, no comfort items, and minimum weight carry.

“Ladies, this is your hotel for the evening.” I yanked my poncho from the side of my ruck and spread it over the ground beneath the humble lean-to. “It’s a little shy of five stars and slightly short in amenities, but it has a gorgeous view of the Milky Way.”

“Thanks, Goodman.” Sister Elsa looked mighty relieved as Missy helped her to sit down.

“It’s Goofman,” I mumbled, rummaging through my ruck. “That’s what my friends call me.”

“They’re mistaken.” Sister Elsa smoothed her skirt and flashed a serene smile. “You’re Goodman. You just don’t know it, do you?”

I lifted my head and considered the woman’s face. Was she teasing me?

“Sister Elsa might be right.” Missy’s shy smile dazzled me like a spotlight in the night. “You did well today.”

Something swelled inside me, my pride, my heart, my hope? Whatever it was, it felt like a revival. If Missy thought I could be a good man, maybe I could be that person after all.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” Sister Janet plopped down next to her companion and huffed. “The crossing was murder. It sure whittled me down to nothin’.”

“No more crossings for you.” Missy knelt on the ground, took off her friend’s shoes and socks, and dried her feet with her old jumper. “We’ll have you both dried and fed in no time. Won’t we, Javi?”

Javi ?

No one had ever called me that, but hell, I liked it.

“Yes, ma’am.” I extracted some food from my ruck and made an announcement with a touch of flair and a slight French accent. “ And now, I invite you to rest and relax. As I proudly present you with… your dinner .”

Whistling the tune of a popular Disney musical, I did a little jiggle as I distributed my ready-to-eat rations among the laughing women. The nuns found my performance hilarious. Missy’s quiet giggles rang in my ears like delicate chimes. First time I’d ever heard her laugh. The sound was… addictive.

I elbowed her playfully. “You like Beauty and the Beast ?”

“I love that movie.”

I’d be a clown and whistle Disney tunes until my face turned blue to get the pleasure of listening to Missy’s laughter.

I ripped open a bag of beef jerky and passed out some protein drink pouches for sharing. I’d only brought supplies for two people and two days, and yet my companions were delighted. They acted as if I’d served a twelve-course meal straight out of Astor House’s Versailles-inspired dining room. Under the tenuous light of a cloudy sky, I stole glances at Missy as the crickets sang, the frogs croaked, and the breeze whispered softly between the trees.

Shit . This sounded like an overture to romance inside my head. The only thing missing was a red crab singing The Little Mermaid’s Kiss the Girl . Thankfully, the nuns were around and I had crap to do.

“Where would ye be going, ye big fella?” Sister Janet asked when I got up.

“To work.” I chewed on a jerky strip and shouldered my ruck. “You ladies finish eating and take a nap. Be back in a while.”

Missy’s gaze followed me as I stalked out of the camp. I felt the weight of her chocolate eyes burning on my back even after I was outside her visual reach. Sebastian the crab kept singing that Kiss the Girl song in my ear in an annoying loop I couldn’t shake.

Sha la la la la la .

I blamed one of my teammates, K-man, for the stupid melodies stuck in my head. I blamed Goddess, too. Lately, during our down times, King, Thena, and I had watched way too many Disney movies.

I secured the camp, setting up a few motion detectors connected to my Tak. If intruders approached, it would alert me. I scouted the area for additional threats, then went down my checklist, replacing my batteries, checking my weapons, and taking inventory of my ammo.

When I was done with business, I took off my tactical vest and clipped it to my ruck. I slipped out of my jacket and put it away as well. Hygiene was key to operational readiness. No soldier in their right mind wanted lice, sores, or infections jeopardizing one’s mission. I stripped off my holster, boots, and socks, and working around my basic layer of clothing, did my standard on-the-go sanitation routine, a wipe down, brief, but field-efficient.

Wearing only my T-shirt and my cargos, I felt lighter and much cooler. I rolled my neck and shoulders to work out the day’s tension, then put my socks and boots back on. I checked my mag and returned it to my Glock right before I slid it back in its holster and strapped it to the back of my pants. Then I went for a thorough tooth brushing. Every Marine who was worth a fart knew that a toothbrush was an essential mission tool.

A glance at my watch told me it was time to check in. I couldn’t wait to share my good news with the team. I dialed up, but all I got was static. What was up with Control? I was on time, but there was no one on the airwaves waiting for me. I fiddled with the settings. Dagger was always a stickler for the schedule. Why wasn’t he or Mina on the line?

I went down my backup channels. White noise all the way. Something was up, but what?

It figured. I had the best update and no one to share it with. For once, my mission had panned out better than expected. Not only had I confirmed my target’s whereabouts as required, but I’d actually located Missy Astor. I ’d found her.

I’d turned an intel gathering trip into a retrieval op. Now all I had to do was drop off the nuns and get back to home base with the prize in hand. After all these years of failure and anguish, what could be better than that?

Meeting Missy Astor , my mind volunteered out of nowhere. Holding her. Kissing her. Having her as my traveling companion. Being the beneficiary of her shy glances and kind smiles. Whistling some stupid showtune for her amusement. Sitting next to her under the outdoors’s big fucking umbrella, listening to the frogs croaking and the crickets chirping all around us.

Fuck me . It almost sounded as if I really liked the girl.

Nah. You’re just riding a high . It’d been a while since I’d felt proud of anything I’d done. Keep the streak going, Guzman .

I tried to make contact for fifteen mikes straight, but I got nothing. Frustrated, I glanced at my watch. By now, the satellite had moved on. Maybe the CIA had gotten wiser about hackers piggy-backing on their satellites. Yeah, that was probably it. I’d have to try direct contact later.

After checking the perimeter one more time, I returned to the campsite and propped up my gear under the jacaranda tree by the dirt road. My carbine remained as always with me, as did my handgun and my knife. Across the clearing, the nuns were asleep in their makeshift beds, snoring like Marines at the barracks. But Missy?

She wasn’t around.

And neither was her little backpack.