“Yes,” Spencer said. “We need you and Preston to spot her and follow her. If the opportunity presents itself, spirit her away and wait for us here. But if not, ping Damien. Once the authorities get there, he’ll be at your disposal to take out the guards.”
“You and Preston will have the dogs with you,” Glen told him. “Preacher and Colonel make good cover, and they’re also not going to let anything bad happen to you.”
“They’re not trained to attack,” Preston said gravely.
Glen gave him a bored look. “If someone aimed a gun at you, Preston, do you think Preacher would let that stand?”
Preston’s hand dropped to Preacher’s big square head, and Preacher turned adoring eyes to his human.
“Probably not,” Preston admitted.
“Mostly they’re a deterrent,” Glen told him gravely. “Nobody wants to mess with dogs—they’re loud, they’re potentially dangerous, and only hardened killers will shoot them. From what we can tell, Barron only sends his local muscle out with the kids—but they still have money and guns. They might try, but they’ll hesitate, and that’s all you’ll need.”
“I thought you said he and his gang were mercenaries!”
“I did,” Glen replied mildly. “But they hire local talent—and it doesn’t matter where you go, the local talent is not that talented.”
Cash still hated the plan. “But why do you have to go to the island? Once we get Brielle, can’t we have the authorities go and—”
“Do what?” Glen asked. “Ask them to invade a small island? Turn this thing into a showdown? They might not shoot a dog in cold blood, but once these guys get heated and Tranquilizer Piss gets on his high horse, there will be a standoff, and there will be violence.”
Cash shuddered. “Seriously?”
Glen nodded. “I did my homework, Cash. I looked at how these things went wrong in other places. Almost always it was because the worker bees—the innocents—were there during the standoff. We get the lost and lonely out of the way, the guys with the guns aren’t going to be so excited about following their boss into hell. The true believers will die for this guy, but from what we’ve seen, they’re not the ones with the guns.”
“Augh! I hate this!”
“Yeah, baby,” Glen said patiently. “It’s all dangerous. Are you ready?”
“I’m ready for me,” Cash muttered. “But I don’t like what you’re doing at all!”
Glen gave him one of those devil-may-care smiles. “It’s just a snake,” he said, winking. “I mean, how bad could it be?”
Cash wanted to rip his hand away and stalk off, but that stank too much of running away.
“It could be bad,” he said instead. “You be careful.”
“I’ll do my best.” Glen’s grin went lopsided. “Which isn’t always good enough. But we’ll hope. Now Damien’s going to drop you guys off and then get into position, which will give Spence and me time to get to the island. They’re getting here soon, which means we’ve got to leave soon, okay? The more gun goons here, the less at the mansion.”
“Okay, fine,” Cash said, still hating it. He narrowed his eyes then, seeing the one perk of the entire situation. “One condition.”
“Hey, these are my friends, my resources—”
“Shut up,” Cash said, knowing the put-out routine was for show. “I need a kiss for luck.”
At that point the other three men in the room practically wedged themselves into the doorframe trying to leave. Preston managed to get out first, but only because he had the two dogs on leads, and they were very confused. Damien went second since he never let Preston go far without him. Spencer got out last, slamming the door behind him, leaving Cash and Glen in a hotel room that smelled like dogs and doughnuts and sausage and coffee.
“Now look what you did,” Glen said, the quirk at the corner of his mouth showing he was trying to keep things light.
“I don’t care.” Cash scowled at him, the weight of fear tight in his chest. “I don’t want you hurt again. I don’t want you to risk yourself for me. I can’t stop you, and… and we have to get this done before there can be a you-and-me, so I want a kiss for luck.”
Glen cocked his head. “Cash….”
But it wasn’t “kid” or “boy,” so Cash didn’t want to hear a word of it.
He lifted his face up for a kiss.
For a heartbeat, he thought Glen was going to leave him hanging. For a heartbeat, he thought about running away.
And then Glen’s mouth covered his, not soft and gentle, but bold and hot and desperate, and Cash knew running away was a lie.
He opened his mouth and let Glen’s tongue sweep in, giving himself up, yielding with everything in his heart. Oh my God—he wanted Glen Echo everywhere. Body, heart, soul. He groaned and pressed closer, nerves aflame, needing badly to climb inside Glen’s skin and listen to his heartbeat to know he was going to be okay.
Glen was the one who pulled away, leaving a trail of openmouthed kisses to Cash’s temple. “Cash Harper, I will be fine. But you had better be here when I get back.”
“I’ve got no place—you hear me? No. Place. I’d rather be.”
Glen nodded and pressed their mouths together again, hard and brief and claiming. The omega of kisses, the one that was going to end all discussion.
Good. Cash opened his mouth and let him invade and leave, then accepted Glen’s hard kiss on his forehead.
He was done with talk between the two of them. He wanted nothing more than all Glen Echo had to give.
HALF an hour later, Damien dropped Cash and Preston off on the lonely road between towns, only now it was populated with nearly two-hundred stands, selling everything from bicycle parts to carrots.
Cash had loved the market in Jalisco, and this one was smaller and more intimate.
“Anything you want?” he asked Preston as the other man guided them to the narrow walkways between the booths.
“We’re not here to shop,” Preston said mulishly, and Cash had to remember that Glen’s brother was very literal.
“No, but if we’re invested in the market, we’ll look like tourists. Give me something to shop for here!”
“A blanket,” Preston said, like the answer had been there all along. “For Glen’s bed. His room is very plain.”
Cash gave Preston a sideways look, which wasn’t easy since the market was crowded and he was dodging everybody from awkward tourists to nimble children calling to one another through the throng. “That’s sort of suggestive, isn’t it? Me giving your brother a blanket?”
“If you’re going to stay,” Preston said, emphasis on if, “it probably suggests the right thing.”
“Fine,” Cash said, liking the idea because it was something to do. “We’ll keep an eye out for the booths with weaving, and it will give us an excuse to look for Brielle.”
“Glen’s guy said she’s usually in the spice booths,” Preston said, “but they’re close together.”
Cash couldn’t help but grin. “That’s awesome. It’ll smell like pepper and chili powder. He’ll wake up hungry!”