A Perfect Storm. Lori Foster

Dare. But no one told me because you swore everyone to secrecy, and I have to tell you, that annoys the hell out of me.”

       “Oh. Umm…” She could practically feel Spencer gloating. “Yeah, about that. It’s just that I…”

       “You were supposed to be researching, hon. For me. You were not supposed to branch off on your own.”

       “Well, I…”

       “Don’t compound it now by fibbing to me.” He laughed as he said that, removing any real insult. “I’m glad you’re there with Spencer, and I’m doubly glad you had enough sense to get him involved rather than charging into a mess alone.”

       “I’m nothing if not cautious.” Even she winced at the sarcasm.

       “Yeah. Cautious. That’s exactly how I’d describe you.”

       “Jackson—”

       He cut her off to say, “Trace dicked with your car because he wants you to stay put, so that’s what you’ll do.” He spoke over her again before she could get started. “Otherwise I’ll have to uproot my tired butt from this nice dinner with my pregnant fiancée and friends, and you know you don’t want me to do that.”

       No, she didn’t. Turning her back on Spencer, she whispered, “I can’t stay here.”

       Obtuse to the bitter end, Jackson asked, “Why not?”

       Almost at the same time, Spencer said, “Why not?”

       She groaned again. Men! “I don’t want to, that’s why.”

       Jackson discounted her reasoning. “C’mon, Arizona. You know that once you start snooping, you have to cover your ass. That means you have to alter your routine, avoid your normal stomping ground, and for certain you can’t go back to whatever hole-in-the-wall you were using to bed down. That’s not how it’s done, honey.”

       Yeah, she knew that. She had planned to hop to another motel for the night. She even had her overnight bag in the car. “I’m not dumb, you know.”

       “Definitely not. But you are jumping the gun. Any operation requires planning.” There was more muted conversation before Jackson laughed and came back to her. “Dare says that Trace has it under wraps, and before you feel guilty about that, he says it’s a job they’d already started before you tripped in.”

       “Really?” That got her intrigued. “So I was right? It’s a cover for a trafficking ring?”

       “Most likely, but it’s too soon to know for sure, and it’s definitely too soon to tip our hand. The sting is still in preliminary research.” His voice lowered. “Put Spencer on the phone.”

       “No.” Hell, no.

       “Arizona…”

       Her shoulders were so stiff, they ached. “I don’t need anyone to babysit me. I’m fine.”

       “You’ll stay put?”

       “Mmm…maybe.” It’d depend on what Spencer said and what he had planned. The men might be world-class protectors, but she knew she could look after herself.

       Jackson sighed and then said, “Hang on, hon.”

       Seconds later, Spencer’s cell phone rang. He grinned at her as he answered.

       Un-freaking-believable.

       And his phone wasn’t on speaker, so she could only hear one side of the conversation.

       Spencer said, “Yeah, hey. Sure. That’s what I figured.” He nodded. “Do my best, that’s all I can promise. Yeah, okay. I would’ve done that anyway.”

       Arizona thought her hair might stand on end. When Jackson came back, she growled, “Satisfied?”

       “Getting there.” And in a lower voice, “Happy birthday, honey.”

       Oh. Heat rushed up her neck. “Yeah, uh, thanks.”

       “I promise I won’t forget again.”

       She rolled her eyes. “Aren’t men supposed to forget that stuff?”

       “No.”

       Sheesh, did he have to sound so offended? “Look, don’t sweat it, okay? Spencer got a cake and everything.”

       “Everything?” He didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “Well, I owe you a gift, and no, don’t argue. Alani will enjoy helping me pick it out. We’ll hook up soon, okay?”

       Feeling desperate, she was quick to say, “Not necessary, Jackson. I know you’re busy with your wedding prep and—”

       Again, he paid no attention to her protests. “We’ll invite Spencer. Dare said this weekend would work at his house. What do you think?”

       Oh, Gawd! He’d cornered her. “Look, I don’t—”

       “Great. Saturday at two. Bring a bathing suit and we’ll hang at the lake. Do it up picnic style. Sound good?” Before she could answer, he said, “So we’re all set. But now I need to go before my steak gets cold.”

       She wanted to deny him and his weekend plans, but she didn’t want to keep him from his meal. “Okay, fine.” She was such a dolt. Somehow she’d find a way around things—especially the bathing suit part of it all. “Sorry for interrupting.”

       “You didn’t.” There was a slight hesitation and then: “Love ya.”

       Happiness filled her heart. She swallowed back a swell of emotion. Keeping her back to Spencer, she said, “Love you, too.”

       After she pocketed the phone, she had no idea what to do. The moment was so awkward that she wanted to crawl off and hide.

       Then Spencer said, “Told you so.”

       His self-righteous tone brought her snapping around. “You told Trace!”

       He shrugged that off. “But only Trace…so you owe me an apology.”

       She opened her mouth to blast him…and then shut it again. Yeah, she did owe him. Grudgingly, she muttered, “Sorry.”

       His hand touched her chin, lifted her face. “I won’t ever lie to you, Arizona.”

       Not for a second would she believe that. “Everyone lies. Big lies, little lies. No one is honest all the time.”

       “Including you?”

       Especially her. She folded her arms under her breasts. “When necessary, I fudge things.”

       “I won’t. Not with you.”

       Feeling herself waffle, Arizona looked around, wondering what to do now. Humiliation rolled over her. She’d disrupted everyone with her plans, when she’d really only wanted to disrupt Spencer.

       That truth made her frown at herself.

       He thought the frown was directed at him. “I had to tell Trace. You’re smart, Arizona. You know that.”

       “And you knew that Trace would tell Jackson.”

       He crossed his arms, mimicking her stance. “You’re distorting the facts. Trace said he wouldn’t tell Jackson, and he didn’t. He told Dare. And Dare didn’t tell Jackson until you called up and spilled the beans. So exonerate me. I held to my end of the bargain—so far as I could, anyway.”

       She shook her head in denial—but it was true. Somehow, deep down, she’d known he would alert the others. “Why do you guys have this sick need to protect misfits?”

       “Is that it?” He put his big hands on her shoulders. He didn’t draw her closer, he just offered…support. “You’re concerned about what Trace will think?”

       “I know what he thinks. That I’m pathetic and