Garrison's Creed (Titan) by Cristin Harber Page B

Nicola nursed her beer and watched. They were all dressed head-to-toe in varying versions of tactical gear. Tight shirts, pants with too many pockets. She was sure there was enough firepower to invade a small country stashed in their vehicles.
    Roman hovered over her for a while, checking in and presumably fending off anyone who might want to talk to her. Typical overprotective Roman. It almost felt good, familiar, to have him breathing down her neck, glaring at anyone with testosterone. Cash worked the crowd with his lazy laugh, ignoring her, and the rest of the Titan men filled their roles by shotgunning beers and chowing down on barbeque.
    Jared walked over to her with two beers in his hand. Her butt was numb from sitting on Cash’s tailgate, and she was a tad lonely. Yeah, she’d talked to Roman. But there was very much an invisible line drawn around her. No one approached her without what looked like an okay from Roman, although Jared didn’t look as if he’d asked for or cared about the Roman go-ahead.
    Maybe she was the problem, looking like she held a sign that said Beware: I bite. Or maybe, I came back from the dead . Who knew?
    “How goes it, princess?”
    “How goes it…” She needed a name for him too, and dickhead wasn’t going to work in front of his men. “Twinkle Toes?”
    He would have reacted, she thought, but he was too alpha to show the flicker of surprise. “You got jokes. Beer?” He held out a fresh one.
    She raised her beer. Its label had long ago been peeled off. “Still got this one.”
    “So finish it.”
    Jared was growing on her. She turned the bottle up and drained the last drops of the warm beer. She’d had it in hand too long. Yuck. A chilled longneck would be good. “Done.”
    “Good girl. Here.”
    She nodded her thanks, appreciative for anything that would lessen the buzzing feelings in her head. If Jared had handed her a horse tranq, she might have tried to kiss the grumbling jerk. “I needed this.”
    “I see brother and sister are reunited and acting brotherly-sisterly. You and Roman cool?”
    “Of course. He’s pretty forgiving or, at least, not as much of a bastard as you might think.”
    “Good. So what’s the deal with you and Cash?”
    “Why?”
    “Something came up. I can’t partner with you on Operation Smoke-‘Em-Out, and I need a man working with you.”
    “I don’t need a man.”
    “Not what I meant. All I got is men. I need a person working with you.”
    “I work fine by myself.”
    “I’m not a work-on-an-island kinda guy. You get a partner, or you lose the job.”
    “Fine. Whoever will do.” She shrugged like she really didn’t care and looked over his shoulder.
    “Actually, not fine. No one will work with you.”
    “Like I said—”
    “You’re hard-headed like Roman. Great. Fuckin’ fantastic. Roman doesn’t trust himself to work with his little sister. I talked to him. He won’t do it.”
    “He’s a moron.”
    “Right. And Rocco must have spread the word, ‘cause him and two other guys I wanted to partner you with won’t. Hell, they won’t work with you to save their lives.”
    “I’m a good agent—”
    “It has nothing to do with that. It has to do with Cash. So spill it, woman. What do I need to know?”
    “We dated before I left.”
    “You loved him?”
    Nic rolled her eyes toward the bonfire, taking in Cash’s amazing silhouette. “And how is that your business?”
    “Everything’s my business when it comes to my ops. Let’s try this. You love him now?”
    “No. Of course not.”
    “Can you keep it in your pants?”
    She shot her gaze back to him. “Christ, Jared.”
    “That wasn’t an answer.” He laughed.
    “He and I are fine. We’re not jumping into bed. Not confusing the past and the present. But I’m not working with him.”
    “Yeah, you are.” He looked so certain.
    “Nope.”
    “No choice.” He laughed again, and it was more irritating each time he did the cough-grumble thing he used as