Chapter 12

Why had she told Mike her name, crawblammit?

Oh. Right.Because she was crushing on him, big time.

That kiss…

Joe had been hard pressed to remember her own name after he'd thoroughly hijacked and marauded her mouth. It had been the single most potent kiss of her life, and she hadn't hesitated to let him know that she was all in for more. Where that would fit with her schedule, she didn't know.

She couldn't very well invite the man back to her little cottage, because there was too much paraphernalia at her little home away from home that would out her as a DEA agent. Not that she wasn't waffling on whether to share that intel with him, anyway. He was clearly an upstanding guy who was exactly as he presented; a team player and a good friend. But… That didn't mean she was quite ready to jump in with both feet. Yet.

Hooking up at Mike's house would also prove difficult because he had kids. And not pat-them-on-the head-and-send-them-to-bed aged kids. Nope. His were fully aware teenagers who would either resent her for being their dad's new arm candy, or would snicker and speculate what she and dear old pops were doing behind closed doors.

Not the most romantic of scenarios, either way.

The other possibility was also a no-go. If they rented a by-the-hour hotel room anywhere within a fifty-mile radius, she had no doubt there'd be someone there who knew Mike's face. He was that much larger than life; cop, SWAT-man, and everybody's friend.

Soooo…

It seemed like she had just agreed to be his girlfriend in name, only. For now, and because logistics were working against them. But if she could finagle an opening, an opportunity to get him naked sometime in the near future, she'd jump on it. Actually jump. On top of that man. Because, drang, Mike was fine.

He picked up her hand and turned them back toward camp.

When she looked down at their intertwined fingers, he grinned. "There's no time like the present to start our relationship."

"Which relationship?" she questioned pointedly. "The act we'll put on for your family and your ex, or the one where we're really getting to know each other?" She meant in the bodily sense, and she hoped he picked up on it.

"Is there a difference?" His eyebrow challenged.

He got it.

Joe smirked. "I was just thinking about your kids. We have to play this just right if we don't want them grossing out or distrusting what we're selling. They know you too well, and if what you've told me is true, they'll wonder about us getting together so quickly. Especially because I'm the first woman you've dated since Melanie."

"So, you're saying we need a backstory that puts the inception of our relationship,"—he emphasized the word and made her snort—"back a few weeks or months," Mike speculated, as they rounded the corner to see the entire team seated on various rocks, logs, and blankets.

"We'll help you make up something good," Cisco grinned, obviously having heard Mike.

Everyone else cradling their bowls nodded their agreement.

Amazing. They barely knew her, but were ready to start placing crucial pieces into her and Mike's puzzle.

Everlee, the chief's wife, laughed. Going to her knees next to the campfire she dished up two more bowls of soup, which she handed to Mike. "Uh, guys? I wouldn't listen to Cisco. If you let him make things up, he'll have you meeting at a bar, and everyone knows full-out, that's not Mike's MO."

"I know that," Cisco defended himself with a pout. "And bar was only my first choice. I was going to suggest second, that they met at the grocery store."

"That's actually not a bad idea," Mike approved, nodding as he took the proffered bowls and indicated to Joe that they should sit on an available rock.

Joe couldn't help her snicker.

"What?" Mike asked, handing her stew over while Ever approached them with several slices of bread on a paper plate.

Joelle reached for the bread, thanked Everlee, then rolled her eyes. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" Mike asked.

"Does this ring a bell?" She carefully placed her food down beside her, stood up and slouched over, keeping her chin tucked. She didn't have a hat, or her clown shoes, but… "Gooooo, Red Riot!" she cheered.

Mike blinked, then groaned. "Dammit. That was you at the store?"

"Yup. Good disguise, huh?"

Mike blinked. "Uh. Yeah. We might have to…use it later."

There was a collective "Ooooh" from his friends which Joelle ignored while continuing to tease Mike.

"And about your eating habits. Might I say that even though I approve of your salty snack choices, your sugar decisions leave a little to be desired. Seriously? Goat's milk ice cream and dum-dums?" Joe snorted.

"Hey. I put the goat stuff back." He narrowed his eyes. "I grabbed it by mistake because I was sure there was someone watching me."

"Points for awareness," Joe allowed. "But a big fat zero for follow-through."

His teammates gave him more jeers, laughing uproariously before speaking in a rote chorus. "If your gut tells you something's wrong, trust it."

Mike cranked up a middle finger toward the hysterical individuals, while Joe bit back a giggle.

"Something you taught them?" she asked innocently.

"Are you kidding?" Kyle snuffle-snorted. "Those are Mike's ‘live-by' words. If we've heard them once, we've heard them a thousand times."

"And now, we know you don't practice what you preach…" Doug shook his head in mock disappointment.

"…so we're going to have to take away your man-card," Cisco ended, with a very loud sigh.

"Not on my say so," Joe responded first. As far as she was concerned, Mike was all man, and then some.

"That's because you haven't compared him to the rest of us," Welker asserted, puffing up his chest.

The team broke into a bragging contest that seemed endless.

"They do this all the time," Mike leaned in to tell her as they ate.

Joe chuckled. She was enjoying the hell out of the banter, and realized it was something she hadn't experienced for a long time. When she'd first graduated from the academy, and been assigned to her regional office, the boss at the time had put her on a three-person unit. She and her partners had investigated cases together, and watched each other's backs at all times. Even when she'd gone off script, her two cohorts had rolled with the new trajectories. More often than not, they solved their cases because of her intuition.

But then, after that first year, her reasonable CO had been transferred, and spit-head Lester had come on board. After being in charge for less than a week, he'd stripped her of her small team, citing the fact that he'd examined her record and determined she was a loose cannon who would lead her two fellow agents down a bad path.

From that point on, for ten years, she'd worked solo.

Joe sighed. This is what she'd been missing. The comradery. The teasing. The trust.

Her one-man show sucked.

All she was now was a glorified, solo investigator. Her job was to dig into whatever Lester assigned to her, then once she had the information compiled, Joe would be recalled, and a "housecleaning" team—inevitably led by Lester—would be sent in to sweep up whatever bad guys Joe had outed.

If and when she went above and beyond fact-finding, arg-hole Lester would write her up. Then he'd taunt her that she might have previously been in line for a raise or a promotion, but because of her actions, nothing would be forthcoming.

Joe looked around at the fun this group was having, knowing that they not only did their jobs, but found ways to keep things light and fluid. They rolled with the punches, each with their own strengths, then came together to make things happen.

Drangit. Joelle had—more often lately—played with the thought of putting in for a transfer, but every time she contemplated it, she backed off, wondering what Lester kept in her files that would be inflammatory. After hearing the bucky-puck he spewed to her, would her records be full of the same? If they were, a transfer would be a non-starter.

"Hey. Where'd you go?" Mike gave her an elbow to the ribs, and she noticed his bowl of stew was half gone. She'd only taken a single bite, but quickly remedied that.

Spooning a morsel into her mouth, she swallowed before answering. "Mmm. Good." She sent a nod to Everlee, who was watching her closely. Right. Joe already had that woman's number. She played the sweet one, but was most likely the sharpest tack in the box, which means there'd be no pulling anything over on her.

For a number of reasons—Ever's scrutiny included—Joe decided to go with honesty.

"I'm envious of the way you're all friends." She screwed up her face in displeasure. "At my office?—"

"And which office that is, you won't divulge." Welker pointed at her with his spoon.

"An office I won't divulge," Joe almost word-for-word agreed. "We… I don't have a team. I work alone. I was just remembering how much I liked it when I had a couple other…operatives by my side. Work was more enjoyable."

Mike made a choking noise and she looked over at him, seeing his brows drawn together as he cleared his throat. "You…don't have back-up?" he growled.

Joelle shook her head. "I really don't need it. I've been designated and assigned as a fact-finder only. Once I have the whole story on a case, other…people come in after me and take care of business."

"That sucks," Doug stated. "You do the leg work, and others get the glory."

Joe had never quite thought about it that way, because she'd always been a team player, at least in her head. But yeah. Doug was right. Lester always wrapped her cases up; his signature on the bottom line. Which meant his poo-poo ended up smelling like roses to the higher powers because of… Right. The legwork Joe had done. Here she'd always speculated that the prilk was keeping her isolated and undercover because of her past transgressions, but now that she looked at it afresh… She had more questions.

Everlee spoke up before Joe could follow that line of reasoning to its conclusion. "But you obviously keep your body well-honed for action," she said. "I couldn't help but notice you're in top form."

Joe shrugged. "I decided, early on in my investigative role, that I didn't want to lose my physical edge in case something went sideways."

"Good call," Mike grunted. "But you still shouldn't be out in the field, alone."

When she narrowed her eyes at him, he clarified.

"Not because I don't think you're capable, but without a team to lean on, how do you…decide when to sleep? When to move forward with an action and when to back off? For that matter, how much of a risk do you dare take in your surveillance, knowing there's no one to save your ass if you fuck up?"

His face was getting darker and darker as he speculated.

"I'm careful," she began. "When I?—"

"When you came here today…" He groaned, then started again. "If I had been one of your suspects, you'd be dead right now."

Joe always knew there was a possibility of death in the field, but had never given it too much weight. She was more than capable of taking care of herself; stealth-wise and fight-wise. Her guard had been down today because of…Mike. Her mind had wandered, thinking about him, so her awareness hadn't been top notch.

Bravado had always been her fallback, so she went for it now. "I totally would have kicked your rump if you weren't so danged cute," she postured, taking a bite of the soft bread in her hand. "You've yet to see me in action."

There were snickers and guffaws from the bunch around them.

Joe rolled her eyes at their sophomoric take on her words, and amended her statement.

"Okay. Mike hasn't seen me in close-quarter fighting action yet," she clarified, which got another round of laughter. "But I'm highly trained, and I don't generally fear for my life."

There had been a time or two… Okay. Maybe a half dozen times in the past couple years where she wasn't sure if she'd make it out of a situation alive. But those were the anomalies.

She took another hearty spoonful of stew and waited to see how the crowd would react.

It was Kyle who got serious. "We've all learned, sometimes the hard way, that it doesn't always matter how proficient you are. Shit happens. And the only way out of it is having someone on your six."

Joe lifted one corner of her mouth, wryly. "Unfortunately, that's not my call. My boss makes the decisions, and I follow his rules."

"He's an ass," Mike stated, putting his empty bowl aside. "I already didn't like him when you told us he treats you differently than his other agents. Like with your language." He looked disgusted. "But putting you in possible danger because of his prejudice…"

If looks could kill, Lester would be dropping dead back in Nevada right now.

That was a cheerful thought.

Still, she needed to diffuse this. "Listen, people. I understand your concern, but if I want to keep my job, which I'm drammedgood at, I need to kiss my boss's tiny little smalls and keep him happy."

Mason cleared his throat, and everyone looked to him. As the chief and leader of the team, his word was given a lot of gravitas. Joe perked up her ears. She was as interested in hearing what he had to say as the rest of his team.

"You don't have to continue dancing to that man's tune, Elle."

She felt bad he was using her alias, but maybe not for too much longer.

"I'm making an assumption here that your agency is federal. One with three letters. Which means there are offices available to you all over the country. Why don't you transfer? Get with a group who appreciates what you do, and covers your ass."

Joe sighed. He'd just said what she'd been thinking earlier. She let out a little more info. "Because I'm afraid he's written some drumming stuff about me in his files. I already know I don't get credit for any busts. Which is okay. But it means I won't look all that appealing to another location. Besides, I'm also pretty sure Lester has used every opportunity to smear my name in his little notebook of transgressions." She tapped her lip, thinking. "I'm speculating here. Throwing something out for your opinions." She drew in fresh air. "Since I haven't been fired by him for anything I've ever done…" Why hadn't she thought of this before? A sneer crossed her lips. "What are the chances he's keeping all the negative feedback he taunts me with, to himself, under lock and key until it behooves him to do otherwise."

"Why?" Alvero bit.

"He knows his scribblings make me afraid to ask for a transfer, but if I ever did, he'd be able to discourage any other office's interest in me." Everything was becoming crystal clear to Joe now. "Because…" Fluke! The devious blastnard. "…if I left, Lester wouldn't have me to do all the leg work. He wouldn't be able, any longer, to take credit for all the ops I hand to him on a platter."

"Cripes, Elle." Thankfully, Mike remembered to call her by her alias in front of his team. "This guy is worse than a dick. He's a glory-hogging schemer. I wonder how many raises he's received because of the work you do?"

Joe didn't even want to speculate. She was scrimping by on a salary that was years outdated, and Lester was probably pocketing bonuses left and right.

She was beginning to see red.

"If I?—"

Joelle stopped mid-sentence. Not because she was through with speculation, but because her phone was buzzing in her pocket, alerting her to the fact that one of her trackers was on the move.

Pish-poor timing.

"Sorry. I have to look at this," she told the team.

Doing a quick security unlock, she immediately saw it was the drug-filled semi that was hitting the road. Which meant she had to, as well.

"My target is in motion, folks. I have to go." She pocketed her phone and stood up. "Thanks for the food, and the conversation. I really enjoyed myself." Looking down at Mike, still sitting, she grinned. "Certain parts more than others," she allowed, which got the laugh she was looking for from everyone but Mike.

"You want me to come with you?" he asked solemnly as he slowly stood.

Sweetest thing, ever.

"Thanks, but I've got this. Simple reconnaissance, remember?"

"Then at least let me give you my number."

She didn't hesitate. Joe withdrew her device again, hit her contacts list and handed the thing to him.

"This is me," his fingers flew, "and these are…," he continued tapping, "Kyle, Cisco, and Doug's numbers." He handed her back her phone. "Just in case."

Mason had been looking at her astutely while she tucked the phone back in her pocket, waiting for Mike to finish speaking. Then he imparted something of his own. "Listen. I don't know what you're doing in Maine or who you work for, but I like you, and obviously so does everyone else here."

People around her nodded, and Mike reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze of solidarity.

Joe, clenched back, waiting to hear where Mason was going with this.

He didn't mince words.

"That means we're your back up from this point forward. If you need help. Of any kind. You call us and we're there."

Joe let go of Mike, nodded her head, and swallowed hard before grunting her acknowledgment and turning away.

She gave an affirmative wave over her shoulder as she hit the trail back to the parking lot because…

If she'd tried to respond, she would have cried.