I hissed a curse and ran a hand down my face. I was tired, there was no doubt about that, but…
“Are you sure this is necessary?”
Jackson gave me a look from under his brows. “Personally, no. But when the client insists despite knowing how much it’s gonna cost, I ain’t gonna turn that down.”
I leaned back in the seat and looked at the ceiling. “How long?”
“Until after the election.”
“Which is?”
“Three weeks.”
“Three… Fuck, Jackson!” I exclaimed, scowling across the desk at him.
His eyebrows lifted. “Is there some kind of problem?”
I hissed a curse under my breath. Yes, there damn wellwasa problem: Penny. All of Penny and all of my knowledge of what she tasted like on my tongue and what her sex cries sounded like.
I shifted in my seat and cleared my throat. “No problem. Why me, though?”
Jackson leaned forward and set his drink down. “It was Tate’s suggestion, actually. He seemed to think that you had a calming effect on her, and that she trusted you.”
A disbelieving splutter left my mouth. Tate was a motherfucking dead man as soon as I left this office.
“Didn’t think Tate was my fucking PA, Muff.”
Jackson snorted, but otherwise didn’t rise to the bait. “I’ve asked Paul and Penelope to be here by zero-nine-hundred tomorrow. The plane will be ready and waiting. Go home, get some sleep, pack, and for fuck’s sake, take a goddamn shower. You’re a mess.”
I rose and shrugged. “This is nothing compared to what I’m used to.”
A knowing grin spread across his face. “Don’t miss those days, that’s for sure.”
Endless days without showering. Hair and beard so tangled, they needed three rounds of shampooing to remove all the sweat and dirt. Skin so grimy the top layer caked under my fingernails whenever I scratched at the back of my neck.
“Give me the action without the squalor, right?” I drawled.
Jackson barked a laugh. “Precisely. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow.”
“You will.”
As I left, each step toward the break room heightened my irritation with Tate. I was on a personal mission and carrying a vendetta.
He looked up when I was still ten strides away, and his jovial expression slipped. He fuckingknewI was coming for him.
“If I were you, I’d start running, Navy boy.”
Tate ignored the warning. Instead, he set his sandwich down and pushed to his feet, rounding the table as if welcoming the conflict.
“SEALs never back down. Something you Berets need to take note of.”
I growled as I grabbed the collar of his shirt with both fists and shunted him into the nearest wall. The ginger giant had an inch or two on me, but I packed the muscle.
“You meddling prick,” I hissed.
Cocky triumph lit in his eyes. “Thought you could have a little on-the-job fun.”
I pulled him to me, then slammed him against the wall, twice. “You should have kept your mouth shut,” I spat as one of the guys stepped close to intervene.