Chapter 12

12

Thala

"Ready for the best burger in the valley?"

I snuck a glance at the man beside me. "Sure."

We were on our way to Valley Roadhouse. It was almost seven in the evening and I hadn't eaten since breakfast, which consisted of a sausage-and-gravy biscuit. I thought I could never eat again after that, but now I was starving.

Last night, Hank almost kissed me. I was sure that was his intent, but the look in his eyes, which straddled the line between sympathy and pity, unsettled me enough to back away. After I used the bathroom and changed into my new pajamas, Hank was already on his laptop, and just like the night before, he had dimmed the lights. I climbed into bed and turned away from him without another word exchanged between us. This morning at breakfast, I laid out where I was on the PragueCog investigation. He barely looked at it and left before lunch, saying he was going to see Jim. So, I could only assume how he left things with his uncle bothered him, but also how we left our almost kiss left him at a loss at how to interact with me because I was feeling the same way.

An invisible line had been crossed.

It was almost five when he came back with an attitude change. He announced with a lot of flair that we were having burgers for dinner. His excitement must have rubbed off on me. Either that or I was getting cabin fever, and I was tired of the solitude.

"I don't see enthusiasm." His tone was teasing.

I decided I wouldn't let him off easy. I hated games. And I wasn't the one who leaned in and invaded personal space. I wondered, though, if I bruised his ego. Hank Bristow was handsome as hell. This morning, he was in shorts and a T-shirt again. He was sprawled on his back and I admitted to being disappointed that he had a pillow across his crotch. I was…curious.

"It's a burger. It's ground meat and bread."

"That's blasphemy," he said.

"You make it sound like I've never had a burger before."

"I bet you have. And probably served with five hundred dollars' worth of shaved truffle or maybe A5 Wagyu beef sandwiched between handmade pretzel buns coated in gold."

"That's oddly specific." I furrowed my brows. I'd probably been served such a burger but never paid attention to the details.

"It is and it exists."

"How do you know these things?"

"I follow food news everywhere."

"You treat food like a religion."

"I do." He glanced at me again. "Hang around me enough and find out."

"It's taken me less than twenty-four hours in your company to realize you're a bona fide foodie."

"Ouch." He threw me his shit-eating grin. "And here I thought I was all mysterious and shit."

Was he flirting with me?

"You're mysterious enough," I said while trying to keep my tone level and businesslike.

"How are we on PragueCog?" he asked, surprising me with his question, and a surge of resentment rippled through me because I needed his help to dig further.

"Same since you left to meet Jim." But I wasn't one to sit in pettiness to the detriment of progress. "Any news about what happened with my brother?" I asked. "You would have heard by now, right?"

"Garrison hasn't returned my messages yet." His tone turned wary. "I told you earlier…once I have news, I'll share."

I huffed. "This is taking too long. Surely my brother is in California by now and knows I ditched the earrings…that is if he was aware of the trackers in them."

"Listen," he said as he continued to steer the vehicle down the mountain. "Covert shit takes time. You need to be patient. Didn't you enjoy all the connections you made yesterday?"

"You know I did."

"Those are the wins. But there are also losses when you hit a wall. It can get frustrating. And sometimes, all we need is that one piece of information that will break everything wide open."

I stared out the window into the night. Maybe I should just enjoy the scenery. We were passing by the Buchanan Winery and I realized I hadn't seen the vines up close during the day yet. I stood on the back deck of the cabin where the woods dipped to the level of the basement and allowed a view of the valley's splendor in shades of purple and green. Patience. I was approaching this the wrong way. Sometimes, when looking too hard in one direction, we get tunnel vision. I needed to step back and involve the brain in a different activity. Give it something else to process.

"So how did your talk with Jim go? Are you getting him to sell?"

"Nope," he replied. "We're still looking over the fine print. He doesn't like the idea that they have the option to tear down and rebuild."

"An option?"

"Yeah, according to Christian, they're going to try very hard to preserve the structure and architecture—"

I gave an unprincesslike snort. "That's bullshit."

"What?" Hank asked sharply. "Is that another of your opinions?"

"No." As much as I was on Hank's side of wanting to sell, I was forming an unfavorable assessment of the company they were selling to. They intimidated an old man and clearly they were dishonest about their plans for the properties. I despised duplicity in business. "Yesterday, before Jim arrived, I heard the men talking. They said what's the use of looking around when they were going to tear down the place and rebuild, anyway?"

"Sons of bitches," Hank muttered.

"Exactly."

Our vehicle passed the Buchanan Winery. "Have you talked to any of your relatives yet besides Christian?" I thumbed over at the structure that was probably the tasting room.

Hank took several seconds to respond. I wasn't sure if he was digesting the tidbit of info I'd given him or was debating whether to tell me to mind my own business. From what I'd gleaned so far, he wasn't close to his family and that was why he stayed away and was only close to Jim. And Jim seemed to be an outlier with the Buchanan clan too.

"No. The Buchanans are scattered all over and only Christian and a few cousins remain in the valley."

"Is that why most of them want to sell?"

"I guess." His answer was terse, like he didn't want to talk about it.

But if what I said bothered him, then I wanted to know. "Are you thinking about what I said about the developers?"

Hank gave a brief shake of his head. "Briefly, but I think you need to worry about something else."

The way his demeanor morphed from serious back to teasing turned me wary.

"What?"

"How to act like my girlfriend."

Hank

"How do we accomplish that?" her voice squeaked.

Princess Thala getting flustered must be my favorite thing. My easygoing nature disappeared each time we got physically close. I was still reeling from yesterday that she shut me down just when I was about to kiss her. Didn't she know it only challenged me more?

"Well, for starters, you shouldn't flinch when I kiss you."

"Couldn't you have mentioned it at the house and not put me on the spot?"

"You might've refused to go out for dinner." Honestly? I was worried I wouldn't be able to stop at a kiss and, with the bed so close by, the temptation was too strong. That was why I stayed away for the afternoon.

Even if we shared the same soap and shampoo, the way her own scent mingled with them was intoxicating and I couldn't stand being close to her and not sniff her like a pervert. And a sniff wouldn't be enough. I had an overwhelming urge to kiss her. So I kept my distance, tried to fill up the house with the smell of buttered biscuits. But it only increased my appetite for her.

This had disaster written all over it. But somehow, with this temporary arrangement, a driving force inside me wanted to show Thala there was more to life than being a princess in a gilded cage. No royal protocols to follow. No royal watchers to criticize her. She just had to cut loose. I remembered the odd look on her face when I held her hand in the convenience store.

She was reluctant and willing at the same time. Curious. The first chance I got, I searched for all the news articles about her and not once was she linked romantically to a man. Not even a rumored consort. Thala was twenty-nine years old, and deep in my gut, I wondered if she'd ever fallen in love. There was one article where she stated that her horse Prince was the love of her life.

Well…Thala Targen was about to become my fake girlfriend.

"I can pretend. I didn't do too bad at your uncle's, right? All I'm saying is I would have liked to review my cover."

I exhaled a brief chuckle. "You're really digging this undercover stuff, aren't you?"

"I am. Depending on how this turns out, I might request a transfer…" Her voice cut off. Then she put a hand on my arm. "Hank…"

"Hmm?"

"What if we hack into Amadea's and Petros's accounts?"

"Whoa there, Princess." A burst of concern compressed my chest. "You haven't been privy to all the intel at Venusstea?"

"Does your congress have access to all classified information that the president has? I mean, even your president is in the dark on certain things."

"You're thinking one of your siblings is not upfront about information in relation to what's happening."

"You tell me. You're a hacker and secret agent."

The burger joint was up ahead. It was a busy night, judging from the parking lot, but I chose this place because I wanted to talk to my cousin. Jim mentioned this was Christian's regular Thursday night hangout, but Thala got me very curious and I was torn between taking care of the family business and Thala's.

In the end, delicious grilled meat won out.

When I pulled into the parking space, Thala said, " That smells heavenly."

She was about to step out when I stopped her.

"What?"

I moved my head closer to hers. She tensed.

"Relax," I murmured. "Will I break any royal protocol if I kiss you?"

She rolled her eyes. "No."

I inched closer, and her breathing hitched. It was hard to tell what she was thinking because I dropped my gaze to her scarlet lips. Kelly must have popped it into the makeup box.

"And you're okay with it?"

She nodded.

I pressed my mouth to hers. I could taste minty mouthwash. Her lips were soft and…I leaned away.

"That's a kiss?" The disappointment in her tone cemented indignation in every fiber of my being.

What the…

All bets were off.

I clasped the back of her neck and slammed my mouth on hers. Delighted with her gasp, I thrust my tongue into her mouth and deepened the kiss. Still gentle and with more finesse than I was feeling. The challenge in her statement fired me up and other images of what I wanted to do to her floated in my brain. With my other hand, I cupped her jaw to prevent her from turning away. Her nails dug into my forearms but didn't push me away.

My dick got hard.

A pounding on the hood broke us apart. "Yo! Not here."

I was about to get out of the SUV and tell the fucker off when I noticed some kids farther out walking with their parents.

Shit.

I guessed this was a family restaurant, too.

I never lost control like this when I was on missions or faking relationships with partners on the ops.

But my experience with Thala threw me into unknown waters. Before I could ask if she was all right, she jumped out of the vehicle as if the leather seat had roasted in the sun. I got out more slowly, and was admittedly pleased with myself that I got to her, judging by her rapid breaths.

Thala was trying not to be obvious, but she wasn't unaffected, and before we were rudely interrupted, she was responding.

"You okay?" I asked.

She motioned to my mouth, indicating the lipstick had transferred to me. She ducked to the side mirror to fix the lipstick I smeared on her mouth.

I casually rubbed mine away and walked toward her.

"Better?" I teased.

"I'll have to redo my lipstick." She narrowed her eyes. "You look like you ate red candy."

I shrugged. "Doesn't bother me. Come on." I reached for her hand and tugged her along. I'd held hands, embraced, even mimicked a sex act for undercover work before and I'd remained clinical about it.

But with Thala, there was a surge of adrenaline different from simply being on a mission. My chest was expanding with an emotion I hadn't considered before.

I found everything to do with Thala Targen adorable, even her grumpiness.

I wondered if it was because she defied the stereotype of a fairy-tale princess. She was a warrior, not a damsel to be saved. I recalled the way she flung that stiletto and took out a man's eye, all the while dressed in a golden gown. Was that the moment Thala enthralled me?

But she was human, and she wasn't invincible. I winced when I also remembered how she got electrocuted at the gate.

I opened the door to the restaurant, letting her enter first. We stepped up to the hostess podium, and I gave my name.

"Hank Buchanan. Two."

"Do you want a booth, sir?"

"Sure."

As the hostess led us to our requested seating, Thala said, "But there's only two of us and the place is filling up."

"They wouldn't be offering us a booth if they're concerned about turning people away." I grinned wryly. "Welcome to America."

The hostess snorted at my quip and left our menus on the dark wood table. The booth was a step up from the floor. Thala and I could have sat side by side, but I decided I wanted to sit across from her and watch her every expression. I had a feeling I would enjoy it more.

"Your server will be with you in a minute."

"Thanks," we said at the same time.

After Thala had settled in, she picked up the menu and stared at it. "There are other things besides burgers here."

"Think about what you want to drink first. Beer or soda. If beer, we can share a pitcher. It's from a local brewery. You're fine with any kind of alcohol, right?"

"Yes. It takes a lot to get me trashed."

"Are you challenging me, Thala Targen?"

She made a tsk sound. "And you're the undercover guy. The name is Tessa Coleman."

I grinned. Yep, this night was going to be fun. "Touché."