Guts & Glory: Brick (In the Shadows Security Book 6) Read online

  Both jumped when a pounding on the window startled them.

  “Your dick better be in your fucking pants,” they heard before the door flung open and Mercy’s scarred face appeared. “Get in the house, Londyn.”

  “You don’t want me there.”

  “I sure as fuck don’t want you in the back seat with Brick.”

  “Why? He seems nice.”

  Brick grinned.

  Until he heard Mercy’s parting shot. “So did Kevin.”

  Brick swiped left, groaned at the next photo that came up and swiped left again. He was going to have to find a new app soon, the pickings on his current one were getting slim. He’d either already tapped it or would never tap it, even with Steel’s dick.

  And last night’s hookup went horribly wrong.

  The photo and bio he’d swiped right for ended up being fake.

  Maybe not fake, but the photo had definitely been outdated. And the bio was total bullshit.

  The hot blonde he expected to show up at their neutral meeting place?

  Wasn’t so hot.

  Or blonde.

  And Brick even wondered if she was female.

  Luckily, he’d spotted her before she spotted him and did a quick reverse, then sent a message apologizing for canceling because there was an emergency at work he needed to deal with.

  He lifted his head from his phone and wondered why no one was talking around the table.

  Oh, wait. Maybe they had been, and he hadn’t been paying attention.

  Fuck.

  Hunter was saying, “So, the client whose daughter was murdered...”

  “Allegedly,” Mercy stated.

  “Allegedly murdered,” Hunter corrected. “By the husband...”

  “Allegedly,” Mercy repeated.

  “Allegedly by the husband.”

  “We now have a bead on where he landed,” Walker reported.

  “And surprise, surprise...” Hunter added with dramatic flair.

  “He’s shacked up with a woman,” Steel guessed.

  Walker jabbed a finger toward Steel. “Bingo. Not only shacked up with a woman—not six months after his wife was accidently killed—but they bought a huge fucking house together nine months ago.”

  “Huge,” Hunter echoed.

  “That was quick,” Diesel grumbled.

  “Not really. He killed her—allegedly—a couple years ago, but they hooked up six months after,” Hunter clarified. “And then he moved them out of state. My guess is to escape the suspicions from the wife’s family.”

  “Still. Only six months before replacin’ her? No wonder why Dad thinks it was foul play instead of an accident,” Ryder murmured.

  Walker nodded. “The investigation showed it was an accident and not homicide. The detectives couldn’t point to anything proving otherwise and neither could the medical examiner. So, for them, case closed.”

  “Right, which is why Daddy Warbucks is payin’ us a fuckton of scratch to find out the truth,” Diesel announced. He was leaning against the wall of their “meeting” aka conference room with his beefy arms crossed over his chest and no little girls to be seen. But then, he didn’t like to talk business in front of his daughters if he didn’t have to.

  Especially dirty business like this.

  “Did he say what he’ll do with any info we dig up?” Brick asked.

  Diesel grunted and shook his head. “Gonna hand it over to the pigs.”

  “No action is needed on our part other than the investigation?” He was a bit disappointed he wouldn’t be able to dust off his MK-11.

  “For now? No,” Mercy said.

  Well, he just lost all interest in that fucking job. “Okay then, who’s taking this job? And where’s it at?”

  “Somewhere warm,” Mercy stated.

  “Fuck. Vegas?” Steel grumbled and grabbed his crotch. “My nuts are still dehydrated from that goddamn heat.”

  “It’s November, asshole. The heat’s gone,” Diesel said.

  “No, out there your balls hang low during the day and then hide at night. It’s fucked up.”

  “Well, it ain’t fuckin’ Vegas,” Diesel shouted at Steel. “Jesus fuck. You guys are turnin’ into a bunch of fuckin’ pussies. Too much whinin’ about jobs. Grow a fuckin’ set or get gone.”

  Brick’s gaze slid around the room, noticing everyone else’s brows were held high, too. “Jewelee got her tubes tied so I know you aren’t cranky because she’s pregnant again.”

  “Got four fuckin’ females in my house an’ don’t need to have six more fuckin’ females in this room, too. You’re makin’ me fuckin’ cranky.”

  “Okay, then,” Brick said, clapping his hands together, trying to get them back on track. “Who all’s getting this assignment and where’s it at?”

  Walker shifted in his chair. “The job’s going to take a while since it’ll be mostly surveillance and undercover work. We found a house for sale two doors down that isn’t getting any bites, so we talked the sellers into renting it to us temporarily and leaving it furnished for now. They jumped on it since they’re sitting on two mortgages. Whoever goes can set up there. Watch, reach out, make friends with the couple. Do a little recon. You all know the drill. Gather evidence and once we got enough either way, get out.”

  “How long is a while?” Ryder asked with a frown.

  “Figuring at least a couple weeks. Maybe a month. Could be longer depending on what’s found or not found,” Walker told him.

  “Fuck,” Steel groaned.

  Diesel’s eyes slid to him, his dark eyebrows drawn low.

  Steel raised his palms up and grinned.

  “I think it should be a couple.” All eyes landed on Walker. “With the neighborhood they’re living in, it’s mostly couples and families. Well-off ones, too. I think a single guy or even two of us going in and out of there might catch unwanted attention. I also think a couple would be able to befriend them easier.”

  “A couple... You expect us to get our women involved? Drag them along for a job?” Ryder asked. “If so, then Steel and Sarah Connor would be the best choice.”

  “Fuck, brother,” Steel groaned, shaking his head.

  “What? It’s a compliment, not an insult,” Ryder stated. “Kat’s a badass in her own right. She could handle a job like this.”

  “Can’t be us,” Steel said. “Kat’s got two fights coming up in the next few weeks. She’s in the middle of getting ready for those and I plan on flying to both of them with her. That means we’re out.”

  “We’re out, too, because Frankie’s pregnant and I’m not getting her involved in this type of shit while she is,” Hunter announced.

  “And Ellie needs Frankie here to help get the Walker Foundation off the ground. Because of that, we’re out,” Walker announced.

  “That leaves Mercy and Rissa, or Ryder and Kelsea,” Brick said with relief, glad he was out of the running. Surveillance was the most boring assignment.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Mercy grumbled, surprising them all.

  “It doesn’t? I doubt the boss man’s going to do that job,” Steel said, twisting his head toward Diesel.

  “Not him. Brick.”

  At Mercy’s words, Brick glanced up from his phone again where he had just swiped left ten times in a row. He still wasn’t having any luck with finding a hookup for tonight. “Me? I’m not a couple, I’m a single. You just stated it should be a couple.”

  “Doesn’t have to be a real couple. Men and women go undercover together pretending to be a couple all the time,” Mercy reminded him.

  “What woman do we know who could handle an investigation like this beside Kat? And also would be willing to put their life on hold for maybe a month?”

  “If not longer,” Walker reminded Brick.

  Brick swung his head toward Mercy when he didn’t answer. “Oh no.”

  It wasn’t the scar pulling up the corner of Mercy’s lip. Oh fuck no, it wasn’t. It was a real fucking smile.

  “Oh fu
ck no. I know you want her out of your house...”

  “Yeah. It’s been a month. It’s fucking shit up.”

  “How can two hot women living in your house be fucking shit up?” Brick asked. “It’s called the perfect fantasy! Especially two sisters.”

  “Because one he probably wants to gag but not with his dick,” Steel said, then burst out laughing.

  “This would kill two birds with one fucking bullet. One, we get her to play your wife and two, it gets her the fuck out of my house. And, bonus, she loves to fucking talk, so she’d be perfect to get friendly with the murderer and his woman.”

  Murderer.

  “So much for that ‘allegedly,’” Brick muttered.

  “Alleged murderer,” Mercy corrected.

  “Will Rissa be all right with puttin’ her sister in danger?” Ryder asked.

  “At this point, yes. She’s...”

  “She’s a distraction during your romantic interludes?” Steel finished for Mercy with a smirk.

  Mercy frowned. “She puts a damper on things.”

  “What kind of things?” Brick asked, fighting his own smirk.

  “She can earn her fucking keep by doing this job, since all she’s doing right now is sitting in front of the TV and eating all our goddamn ice cream.” Mercy’s silver eyes pinned Brick to his seat. “Doesn’t mean you guys need to share the same bed. You get me on that? I don’t need her stay at my house extended because she’s all broken up about you next. Bottom line is, keep your dick out of her and I’m going to tell her the same.”

  “And what the fuck am I supposed to do for those weeks?”

  “Fist it,” Steel suggested next to him.

  Oh no. He’d find another way. He couldn’t become a monk for the next month or so. “Doesn’t Rissa and Londyn have to agree to this?” Brick asked, not liking this whole scenario at all. “Don’t I?”

  “You? Fuck no. Don’t like it? You know where the fuckin’ door is,” Diesel said, jabbing a finger toward the actual door. “Mercy’ll work on the women.” Diesel leaned over the table, planting his knuckles onto it and locking gazes with Brick. “Daddy Warbucks said he heard we’re the best. Let’s not fuck that rep up, asshole.” With that, the big man lumbered out.

  Steel clapped his hands together. “Well, glad that was settled!” He surged from his chair and left the room in a hurry.

  Everyone else filed out after him.

  “Wait! You never said where this fucking assignment was!” he yelled to the empty room.

  Chapter Three

  “The sweaty armpit of hell. That’s where this assignment is,” Brick muttered as he hauled his bags and a long hard case—which Londyn guessed concealed a long gun—onto the front porch of the two-story house.

  She stood in the driveway next to the rented Ford Explorer and stared at their temporary residence. It was freaking huge.

  At least for her.

  The house in Syracuse she and Kevin had was half the size and the house she grew up in in Vegas wasn’t much bigger.

  On the other hand, Parris had owned an awesome house in Vegas. With a pool and everything. Which she gave up. To be with Mercy.

  Londyn frowned. She was happy her sister was happy, but she didn’t understand the attraction to such a cold, closed-off man.

  She wondered if this house had a pool. She hoped so, because she packed her suit and it was sweltering hot there, even for November. However, she also hoped she still fit in it after eating her way through Parris’s fridge and pantry for the last month.

  This “assignment” couldn’t come at a better time and she’d jumped on it when Mercy brought it up, even against Parris’s objections. One, it gave her a purpose, which she needed badly right now. Two, she needed to get out of her funk.

  And three, she was going to do some badass stuff with a badass hottie.

  She watched that hottie as he dug into the pocket of his cargo pants, looking for the house key, noting he had a really, really nice ass.

  And that wasn’t even his best asset.

  But hot men with large guns and even larger vehicles usually had a micro penis. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was overcompensating for that.

  And anyway, Mercy—and Parris, no less—had warned them to keep their hands to themselves. Quite a few times, actually, which, to be honest, began to get insulting.

  However, it wouldn’t be a problem, since she’d sworn off all men. Forever.

  They were all lying, cheating dogs.

  The one unlocking the door and going inside probably wasn’t any different.

  So, for the next couple of weeks, she and Brick were going to “play” a married couple in an attempt to get access to one of the neighbors’ life and house.

  That also shouldn’t be a problem since she’d had a small part in a play in junior high. How hard could it be pretending to be McHottie’s wife?

  Except... Maybe people wouldn’t believe someone like Brick would be with someone like her? Maybe they’d expect him to be with someone in shape like GI Jane similar to Kat, Steel’s girlfriend.

  Or sweet and innocent like Ellie, who also did not drown her sorrows in frozen dairy products.

  Shit.

  “Are you just going to stand there in the blistering sun?” she heard come from the dark interior of the house.

  “My luggage,” she murmured.

  “Grab it and let’s go. I just turned on the A/C to cool down this fucking sweat box. I need to close the door if that’s ever going to happen.”

  Londyn pursed her lips and stared at the open rear hatch of the SUV. If she would’ve known she’d have to haul her bags inside herself, she wouldn’t have brought so many.

  Who was she kidding? Of course, she would’ve.

  Like Parris, she liked nice clothes and shoes. And purses. And all the rest of that.

  She didn’t need to have a lot, as long as it was quality.

  She frowned at her luggage. She should’ve asked if this was a paying gig. She could use more clothes since she left most of hers behind in New York when she threw some bags together quickly and hopped on a plane to Pittsburgh without much thought.

  And now here she was. In a gated community in Florida. With a man named Brick.

  That was a weird name for parents to name a baby. She wondered if it was a family name. Maybe he had a brother named Mortar.

  She stifled a giggle-snort when she noticed McHottie heading her way, a frown on his face, along with a bead of sweat running down his temple and a ring of sweat starting to form at the collar of his T-shirt.

  He stopped at the rear of the vehicle with his hands on his narrow hips, took a good look at her bags, then a good look at her. “They’re not going to grow legs and walk into the house on their own. Moving bags usually takes a little effort.”

  McHottie had morphed into McSmartAss.

  With a sigh she grabbed a bag and dragged it out of the vehicle and onto the driveway before grabbing another.

  “Four bags,” he muttered. “Totally unneeded.”

  Londyn sighed. “You told me that when you picked me up at the house. You told me that when you loaded them into your Tank. You told me that when we checked in at the airport. You also told me that when we waited at the luggage carousel. I think I got it now. Not everyone can fit all their necessities in a duffel bag, a backpack and a rifle case.”

  “It’s a rucksack.”

  Londyn rolled her eyes. “It’s a camo-colored backpack.”

  She didn’t miss his lips twitch, or his eyes drop to her shoes. “Who travels in heels?”

  “We’re going to do that again, too? Like I told you the other dozen times, someone who likes to look good.” Yep, his lips twitched for sure that time. “And don’t tell me that men don’t like to look good.” She waved a hand from his head to his feet. “Just look at you. I’m sure you work your ass off to get that body.”

  “I need to be in shape for my job.”

  “Bullshit. There’s in shape and the
n there’s in shape. You do it to attract women. You’re like a Venus Flytrap. You look pretty on the outside to lure us in and then, bam, we’re your latest victim.”

  The man finally smirked, which made him look even more handsome. Damn it. “You think I’m pretty?”

  Londyn snorted, extended the handles on two of the suitcases and began to roll them toward the house.

  Until she almost broke her neck when one of her heels snapped. Large hands—not indicative of a micro penis—caught her by the elbow and hauled her back to her feet and against an overly warm, broad chest.

  As she caught her breath and her heart slammed back into her chest, he released her like he’d been burnt.

  “Shit. Those shoes cost me a small fortune.”

  “They’re useless,” he grumbled, quickly putting space between them.

  “Well, now they are!” With a curse, she kicked off her heels and stuffed them into the front pocket of her suitcase. “Damn this pavement is freaking hot!”

  “Hopefully you brought something other than heels with you,” he said as he followed her inside, hauling in her two remaining bags.

  She hesitated in the dark, cooler foyer, letting her eyes adjust, as he shut the door. “Sandals and flip-flops. Does this place have a pool?”

  “I have no fucking clue because this isn’t a vacation.”

  “But we should live the part, right? Married couple. Totally in love. Making goo-goo eyes at each other. Can’t keep our hands to ourselves?”

  He cocked one eyebrow at her. “We promised to keep our hands to ourselves.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He grunted and pushed past her, leaving her luggage in the foyer next to his stuff. She followed him into the kitchen at the back of the house and he opened the refrigerator door.

  “Someone is going to need to go grocery shopping,” he told the interior of the apparently empty fridge.

  “You mean the house didn’t come fully stocked with food and beverages?”

  He lifted his head and shut the refrigerator door. “Very funny.”

  She smiled. “I’ll make you a list.”