Jameson (In the Company of Snipers #22) - Irish Winters Page 0,23

former SEAL, Walker Judge, who was on that black op into China, with his wife, Agent Persia Coltrane. Jameson also knew Adam Torrey, another former SEAL. They were still good-naturedly insulting each other like guys did.

Maddie was eternally grateful she’d landed this job as TEAM Protocol Officer, but working with all these handsome guys was nearly more than she could handle some days. They were the deadliest eye-candy. Every last one of them was walking, talking, manly sex on steroids. Not only were they breathtakingly handsome, but they were real men. Not whiny boys. Not pretty white-collar college guys who primped and sent out hundreds of selfies to their adoring, do-nothing fans, either.

Strong, capable, intelligent men comprised a good ninety percent of The TEAM. They worked hard every day, and earnestly strived to serve their country. Sometimes, they even put their lives on the line during missions. Not just anyone could or would do that. These men really were the few and the brave. That much she knew firsthand.

This new junior agent seemed to be another rock-solid warrior. Jameson walked like he knew where he was going despite being unable to see. She’d kept close to him like he’d requested, her hand under his elbow while he’d chatted and joked with everyone, even Beck’s wife, Camilla. She’d sure changed since she’d come back from maternity leave and started working fulltime. Beck had changed, too. Both, in good ways. They seemed happy, something Maddie had yet to find. Certainly wasn’t in marriage.

“Donuts!” Harley Mortimer bellowed. He cleared the elevator, his arms stacked high with pink bakery cartons, his chin resting on the top one to keep the rest from slipping.

Maddie would’ve run to help. She loved working with Harley. But she was supposed to stick close to Jameson, so she resisted the urge.

Thankfully, Ember and Rory burst through the fire doors at the opposite end of the work bay, both out of breath, with her giggling, “I win. You owe me a bubble bath.”

“How about a glazed confection instead?” Rory asked as he aimed for Harley and took over half the boxes. “TEAM! Ready room!” he called out, walking straight to the Sit Room where Alex held morning staff meetings.

“Are you hungry?” Jameson asked quietly.

Maddie looked up into a handsome, albeit expressionless face. He’d gotten too close, yet he stood there with his head cocked, his round, dark glasses facing her, as if he were intently waiting on an answer. Maybe even listening to her. Really listening. Like he cared. He cocked his head to the other side when she didn’t answer right away. He did that a lot, and she could’ve sworn he was reading her mind. It’d sure be nice to look into his eyes. His glasses were too dark. They told her nothing, not even his eye color. Which might be because his eyeballs had been grotesquely damaged from that roadside bomb, or his eye sockets were empty. Maybe those glasses were a good thing after all.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Sounds like a party in there.”

The TEAM did sound rowdy, in a good-natured way.

“Do you want to join them?” she asked, throwing the decision back on Agent Tenney.

The barest smile shifted over his manly countenance and landed on lush tanned lips that looked tender enough to kiss.

Frightened at that crazy notion, Maddie glanced over her shoulder, afraid someone might’ve caught the illicit thought that dashed through her mind. But her ex, Nash Coogan wasn’t there. Neither were his associates, the loan sharks who’d decided she should pay off his account when they couldn’t track him down. They were the reason she’d been late today, and their late night warnings were getting scarier. A sheet of sturdy CDX plywood now covered her front room picture window after a huge rock sailed through it last week. Today, she’d had to buy four brand new tires before work, to replace the four someone had spiked with roofing nails overnight. This morning, there’d been a nasty threat pasted to her windshield: Last chance, bitch!

She didn’t need a babysitting assignment. She needed a safe place to hide.

“I could be persuaded,” Agent Tenney murmured, his tone as sweet and low as melted fudge. “Can you?”

“Can I what?” she asked, her heart hammering like an idiot bird in an out-of-control cuckoo clock. What was it about this blind guy that was getting through her defenses? Did she feel sorry for him? Okay, yes, a little. Which was stupid. He didn’t seem to need anyone’s