Hot Target by Suzanne Brockmann

Paoletti’s wife Kelly was a doctor—a pediatrician who understood the complicated intricacies of the health care system. She’d graciously offered to come out to Laguna Beach on one of her rare vacation days to check up on both his mother and her nurse under the pretense of a lunchtime visit.
    When Cosmo had picked Kelly up this morning, down in San Diego, he’d warned her that his mother was crazy. She’d just laughed and told him that everyone thought their mother was crazy, that her mother was crazy, too.
    His, however, was crazier than most.
    Cos hadn’t been able to go into exact detail, though, because Kelly had turned pale green. She’d insisted she was fine—it was only morning sickness—but she’d closed her eyes and attempted to sleep through it, and they’d made the ride in silence.
    It was obvious she was feeling much better now—she had color in her cheeks, and her blue eyes sparkled with amusement. There was no chance she was going to sleep away the ride out to Malibu, where she and Tommy were going to spend the next few weeks relaxing.
    Allegedly.
    This visit to his mom had served a double purpose. Tom hadn’t wanted Kelly lifting anything as he moved their vacation gear into the beach house. This way, when Kelly arrived, Tom’s truck would be completely unpacked. She could go right onto the deck, sit in a lounge chair, and sip a virgin daiquiri.
    “You need to check with your mother’s health insurance company,” Kelly continued, and he forced himself to pay attention, “and make sure they’re not paying for a nurse while you’re getting an aide.”
    “Yeah,” Cosmo told her. “Thanks.” He glanced at her. “I’m sorry that my mother . . . you know. Embarrassed you.”
    Kelly laughed. “She didn’t. Honest.”
    Yeah, he was the one who had been dumbstruck with horror.
    She giggled. “You’ve got to admit, it was pretty funny.”
    He just shook his head. His mother had taken one look at Kelly’s physical condition and had jumped to the absolute wrong conclusion.
    Cosmo had had to spell it out for her—no, Kelly was not his pregnant girlfriend whom he was bringing to meet her in order to discuss plans for their impending nuptials.
    But who was she? And what was she doing with Cosmo? And why couldn’t he marry her anyway? So what if it wasn’t his baby—they could have another of their own. Clearly the young lady was capable . . .
    Christ.
    “She’s sweet,” Kelly said now. “And obviously single-minded in her determination to have grandchildren.” She giggled again. “And I thought
my
mother was bad.”
    He’d had to explain to his mom in precise detail: Kelly was already married. To Tom Paoletti, the former commanding officer of SEAL Team Sixteen and his current boss at Troubleshooters Incorporated. And since Cosmo was loyal to Tom to the point of being willing to die for the man, it was highly unlikely he was going to follow his mother’s suggestion and try to convince Kelly to leave Tom and marry him instead.
    “I guess you haven’t brought your girlfriend home in a while,” Kelly said. She was snickering now. “Understatement.”
    “Yeah,” he agreed. “Try never.” He laughed, too, rolling his eyes. “What a nightmare that would be.”
    “No—” Kelly started.
    He cut her off. “Yes. Can you imagine if I really liked someone and . . .” He imitated his mother’s slightly breathy voice. “I know you said you don’t really enjoy Broadway musicals, but if you’d just listen to this song in
Jekyll and Hyde
where Lucy—she’s the whore, dear. How do you young people say it these days? That’s right, ho. She’s the ho who sings about hope. . . . Oh, isn’t that funny? The hopeful ho . . . Let me play it for you, dear, fourteen times in a row. . . .”
    Kelly was laughing so hard, she was gasping for air. “She’s not that bad. And so what if she’s passionate about her music—that’s wonderful.”
    “Yeah,” Cosmo said. “I know.”
    They