The Perfect Hostage (A Super Agent Novella) (Entangled Edge) by Misty Evans Page A

even a party party. It’s a freakin’ baby shower.” He was so out of his element here, even his fingernails were sweating. “Family, babies…kill me now. Nothing I did with the Berets prepared me for this. I’m getting hives thinking about it.”
    “You want to see Lucie, don’t you?”
    Did soldiers love guns? “Awww, hell, Law.” His Texas drawl turned one-syllable words into multi-syllables. “You know I do, but this is—”
    “Normal. Family get-togethers and baby showers are normal . You should try it.”
    In Lawson’s world, this was normal. In John’s? “Sucks to be you.”
    A lie. John envied Lawson’s upcoming nuptials and impending fatherhood, but no way could he see himself in Lawson’s sitch. He’d seen other operatives lose their edge, worrying too much about those they’d left behind. He wasn’t about to second-guess every decision in the field because he didn’t want to leave a wife without a husband or kids without a dad. So even though he’d wanted that elusive something more with Lucie since he’d rescued her from a terrorist the previous year— what a way to meet —it wasn’t going to happen. She unraveled him…screwed with his brain, his emotions, his…everything.
    He couldn’t—no, he wouldn’t —settle down. Not for her. Not for anyone. Whatever fantasy she was cooking up about them enjoying a future like Lawson and her sister, Zara, had planned was just that—a fantasy.
    No matter how much he wished it could be reality.
    “Do it for me.”
    Low blow. John turned his back on the door, on Lawson. Scanned the frozen lake lined with snow-covered trees. Picture postcard and all that shit. Stalling, he tried to think of something witty to say. “Who knew Flynn would allow one of his super agents like Zara to get pregnant?”
    “Believe it or not, Director Flynn cannot control everything.”
    Dark gray clouds hung low in the distance. Another Canadian front swinging in. That could work to his advantage. A few minutes of face time at the party where he could drool over Lucie and log some mental pictures for future fantasizing, and then he could use the approaching storm as an excuse to cut and run. In and out in under an hour.
    Disneyland was nice this time of year, right? Warm weather, Mickey Mouse, and not a Morgan family baby shower in sight.
    Bailing on Lucie, after all she’s been through, would be a shit-ass thing to do.
    Not to mention disappointing Lawson, his best friend.
    Good thing John was an ace at disappointing people.
    “Is that the best you could find to wear?” Lawson’s voice held a slight air of exasperation.
    Lowering his head, John looked down at the tips of his worn-out cowboy boots. Snow clung to the edges of his olive drab BDUs. Though he was no longer Army, he still wore the pants with T-shirts and flannels. They were as much a part of him as his social awkwardness around Lucie. Maybe today she’d finally see him the way he really was. He didn’t belong in her world, and he wasn’t about to change in order to fit in with the Morgan family, no way in hell.
    “I came straight from Dulles. No time to run home and put on my fancy clothes”—never mind that he only owned a total of one dress shirt and one pair of black slacks—“but, hey, if I’m not dressed good enough for you and the future in-laws…”
    Lawson issued a heavy sigh. “Speaking of in-laws, the sharks are circling in here. Lucie’s sinking fast. She needs you, John.”
    The call to duty. She needs you.
    Goddammit . Of all the people and relationships he’d walked away from in his life, he couldn’t walk away from someone who needed him.
    And Lawson— the damn Yankee —knew it.
    Facing the door, John glanced up at his boss. The man he followed into the fire on a regular basis. The man who’d saved his ass more than once.
    John owed him. He owed Lucie, too. “You better not be fucking with me, Boy Scout.”
    Three fingers rose in the air.
    John shook his head, snorted.