Geek Squad 02 - Operation Foxtrot Read online

  

  Geek Squad 2

  Operation Foxtrot

  I was a pretty boy. Everyone said so. I had the right looks for the modeling business, and I’d made a lot of money plastering my face all over the world. I had a brain, too, but no one seemed to notice anything beyond my good looks. It was aggravating when they didn’t.

  I wanted Sgt. Dennis Cooper to notice. I wanted him to see my pretty face and realize I could carrying on an intelligent conversation at the same time. I wanted him to want me the way I wanted him. It was frustrating when he didn’t.

  When someone else does notice, keeping Cooper safe from them becomes more important than proving to the man that I was as smart as I was pretty. It was just too bad Cooper didn’t seem interested.

  Genre: Alternative (M/M, Gay), Paranormal, Shape-shifter

  Length: 35,292 words

  OPERATION FOXTROT

  Geek Squad 2

  Stormy Glenn

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  OPERATION FOXTROT

  Copyright © 2018 by Stormy Glenn

  ISBN: 978-1-64243-133-9

  First Publication: March 2018

  Cover design by Meg Bawden

  All art and logo copyright © 2018 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  If you find a Siren-BookStrand e-book or print book being sold or shared illegally, please let us know at

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  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Stormy believes the only thing sexier than a man in cowboy boots is two or three men in cowboy boots. She also believes in love at first sight, soul mates, true love, and happy endings.

  You can usually find her cuddled in bed with a book in her hand and a puppy in her lap, or on her laptop, creating the next sexy man for one of her stories. Stormy welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website at www.stormyglenn.com

  For all titles by Stormy Glenn, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/stormy-glenn

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Operation Foxtrot

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Operation Foxtrot

  Geek Squad 2

  STORMY GLENN

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  If I had to smile at one more idiot or shake one more clammy hand, I was going to scream. Why my agent had suggested I attend this stupid party, I would never know. I was really starting to think I needed to find a new agent. I was nothing but window dressing at this damn thing.

  The number of people who thought they could feel me up because I was a model was staggering. I was pretty sure I had bruises on my ass from being pinched so many times. And if one more person tried to get their hands down my pants, I was going to hurt someone.

  This was ridiculous. I had been at this party for over two hours already, and I was so ready to go home. I glanced at my watch. It was only eleven. The party would not doubt go on until the wee hours of the morning. I had a shoot in the morning. I couldn’t do wee hours. The photographer would have my ass in a sling if I had bags under my eyes.

  Maybe I could slide out without anyone catching me. It wasn’t like I’d be missed. This party was all about being pretty. There were at least ten models here who were by far more attractive than me. I wasn’t even the most attractive waiter. Soon enough, there would be someone prettier than me to take my place, and I wouldn’t have to endure these horrid cocktail parties.

  I hated them.

  I wasn’t putting myself down. I knew I had the right looks for this business. My hefty bank account attested to that. A lot of models made what I did. I just invested better than most, and didn’t spend frivolously.

  It wasn’t like I needed all that much. I had a spacious loft apartment. I had gotten it cheap because it was above a Cuban restaurant. The smells were intoxicating. The music was lively, but played all too late in the evening.

  Strangely enough, I had grown used to it.

  There was always some sort of buffet at the shoots, so I ate relatively cheap. I didn’t own a television, but I had the top-of-the-line computer setup. My biggest expense was my sweater budget. As most of my clothes were provided for my shoots, I didn’t need much else. I usually showed up in my jeans and sweaters.

  I had a strong addiction to cashmere. I liked how soft it was, how it felt against my skin. I liked how it made me feel. Cable-knit was my next favorite. I owned three pairs of well-worn jeans. I had over forty sweaters. Five Armani suits. Two tuxedos.

  I didn’t even want to contemplate how many pairs of shoes I had.

  I didn’t indulge in drugs or over-drinking. I wore one piece of jewelry, a silver bracelet given to me by my grandma before she passed away. I never took it off, even for photo shoots. I didn’t travel all that often, and when I did, my travel expenses were paid for by whoever I was modeling for. I had actually been around the world on someone else’s dime a couple of times.

  The trip to South America a few months back had been all on me. Just knowing my cousin Hank was really alive, and now living happily with his boyfriend, made any amount of money I had spent chartering a plane and arranging everything more than worth it.

  No matter how much I’d had to dip into my savings to pay for that trip, I didn’t regret one bit of it, except the car. I regretted that damn car…if it could be called a car.

  Metal box from hell came easily to mind.

  I was going to regret a whole of a lot more if I didn’t get some fresh air. The air inside was stagnant, stale, and filled with the overwhelming stench of smoke and sweat. I moved toward the balcony. It was a bit chilly to be outside, but if I didn’t, I was going to gag.

  I pushed open the double glass doors leading to the balcony and stepped through them. I took in a deep breath of fresh, clean air—or at least what qualified as clean air in the city—and realized almost immediately that I wasn’t the only one out here.

  I could smell at least four…no, five people out here, and one of them smelled very familiar—and delicious. I craned my neck to get a better view of the balcony. It was actually quite a large space with several different seating areas, an infinity pool, and an unmanned bar.

  The sound of a scuffle reached me. Considering who I was scenting, that couldn’t be good. I moved around the large wall divider and spotted several men standing by one of the seating areas. They did not look as if they were having a friendly conversation.

  I tilted my head and lifted my ear toward them, shamelessly eavesdropping.

  “W
ho are you?” someone snapped. “Why are you here?”

  “I told you. I was just out here having a cigarette.”

  The sound of flesh hitting flesh made me wince.

  “Who are you? What did you hear?”

  When I heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked, I knew I had to do something. All of my instincts were screaming at me. Considering who—or rather what—I was, that was saying a lot.

  “Darling,” I called out as I stepped around the corner. “Are you done with your cigarette yet? I’d like to head home.”

  I plastered one of my award-winning smiles on my face as I strolled toward the small group of men. “There you are, love. Are you ready to head home yet? I have a shoot in the morning. I need my beauty sleep.”

  When I reached the men standing there staring at me, I sent them all a friendly smile before leaning leaned up and pressing a kiss to the lips of Sgt. Dennis Cooper.

  My eyes widened just a bit when I felt an electrical zing zip through me at the contact.

  I hadn’t been expecting that.

  Of course, I hadn’t been expecting Cooper to be out here on the balcony either. I could pretend with the best of them. I was kind of in the pretend business.

  “Oh, what is this?” I pulled a hanky out of my pocket, wet it with my tongue, and dabbed at the spot of red on Cooper’s collar. “I don’t know what this is, but stop eating it. Do you know hard it is to get stains out of…” I leaned back and ran my eyes up and down Cooper’s massive body. “What are you wearing, darling? That is not one of the shirts I bought you.”

  Cooper shrugged. “It was comfortable.”

  I snorted.

  Loudly.

  “You look so much better in silk. This”—I waved my hand up and down—“not so much.”

  A crooked smile graced Cooper’s lips. “I thought you said I looked good in anything.”

  “Well, yes, but even I have limits.” I looped my arm through Cooper’s before turning to look at the men surrounding us. “Oh, you’re Mr. Cavetti, aren’t you?” I asked when I narrowed in on the one man I knew.

  I never forgot a face.

  I’d seen the man at several functions I’d attended over the last few months. I wasn’t sure exactly what he did, but the gun I had heard cocking a few minutes ago said it couldn’t be good.

  It was strange that I couldn’t see the gun.

  “Who are you?” the man asked.

  I smiled as I held out my hand. “Andrew Moore.”

  “You’re that model guy, right?” one of the other men asked. “The one who did that magazine shoot in Tahiti last year for the swim trunks.”

  My smile broadened. It was the fake one I gave people I didn’t like, but didn’t want them to know I didn’t like them. “Yes. We had so much fun on that trip.” I clutched Cooper’s arm tighter as I glanced up at him. “You remember that trip, don’t you, darling? It’s the one where we stayed in that cute little bungalow on the beach.”

  “Was that the one with the hammock?” Cooper asked without missing a beat.

  I almost smiled at him.

  “No, that was the place in the Caribbean. Tahiti was the one with the outdoor shower.”

  Cooper chuckled. “Oh yeah, I remember.”

  “You know this man, Mr. Moore?” Mr. Cavetti asked.

  “Of course. He’s my boyfriend.”

  Boyfriend.

  I felt as if I were back in high school.

  Well, no I didn’t. I never had a boyfriend in high school.

  The man looked at me quizzically. “Why have I never seen you two together before?”

  “You’re not supposed to,” I explained even though my throat was so thick with fear, I was afraid I was going to pass out. “As a model, I’m supposed to look available. It’s part of the mystique.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “Then why do I see you together now?”

  I huffed as if the guy was an idiot, and he was. “Cooper usually accompanies me as my bodyguard. People don’t tend to pay attention to him if they believe he’s just there to keep me safe. My agent said it was better that way. Cooper could go on all my shoots with me, but no one would know of our real relationship.”

  Mr. Cavetti looked at me as if he didn’t believe a word of what I said. “Smoking is very dangerous.”

  “I know, right?” I dramatically widened my eyes. “I’ve been telling him that for ages. Half the time, I don’t even want to kiss him.”

  When the man’s lip curled back, I knew it was time to get out of there.

  “Are you ready to head home now?” I asked Cooper as I patted his chest. “That shoot is at nine. If I have bags under my eyes, Paolo is going to beat me with his camera.”

  Cooper lifted an eyebrow as he glanced at Mr. Cavetti. “Was there anything else?”

  The older man’s eyes narrowed. “No, you can go.”

  I would have swallowed my tongue as we turned away except my throat had closed up. I could feel eyes on us as we walked away. The spot between my shoulder blades itched.

  “You really do need to give up smoking, darling.” I spoke in a little louder voice than I needed to, but I wanted the men behind us to hear me chewing Cooper out. “It makes your clothes smell all nasty.”

  “I know, Andrew, and I’m trying,” Cooper replied as if going along with the game. “The gum and the patch just aren’t cutting it.”

  “Maybe we can try that Chantix stuff.”

  “You know I hate pills, Andrew.”

  “Yeah, but you’d only have to take them like once a day or something. It has to be easier than the gum or the patch.”

  “I’ll try it, Andrew, but I can’t make any promises.” Cooper pulled open the door and held it for me. I stepped through. Cooper followed me, wrapping his arm around my waist.

  “Just keep walking, Andrew,” Cooper murmured. “They’re still watching.”

  Good grief.

  How did I get into these messes?

  Oh yeah, coming to the rescue of one of my friends.

  I so wanted to roll my eyes, but that wouldn’t be a good idea, at least not yet. Too many people were watching at me and Cooper walk across the room. They needed to see a happy couple heading home, not me freaking out.

  “My skin is crawling,” I whispered, hoping Cooper could hear me.

  Cooper jerked. “You’re not going to fuzz out, are you?”

  I jerked until I remembered that Cooper knew about the fuzzy part of me. “No, of course not.”

  Hell, I had no idea, but I wasn’t going to admit that. I was still trying to figure out how the furry thing worked, and that stupid witch doctor who insisted we needed to train for the coming apocalypse was no help. For one, Santos wouldn’t leave the small town where Ian and Hank lived, and two, he was batshit crazy.

  “Leaving so soon, gorgeous?”

  I felt a growl rumble through my chest until I realized the person speaking behind us was calling me gorgeous and not Cooper.

  Where in the hell had that growl come from?

  I wasn’t in the mood to socialize. It was all I could do to plaster the plastic smile on my face as I turned.

  Leonard Lake.

  I should have known.

  The man was an ass. He was also a rich ass. He seemed to think all he had to do was toss a wad of cash at me and I’d come running.

  I’d been dodging him for weeks.

  “I’m going home, Leonard. I have a shoot in the morning, and I’m tired.”

  The man’s lips twisted in a way I was sure he thought was attractive.

  It wasn’t.

  “Need some company?”

  I tightened my hold on Cooper’s arm and jerked him a little closer. “I have company.”

  “Him?” Leonard’s nostrils flared as he looked Cooper up and down.

  I knew what he was seeing. Six foot four inches of prime, muscular male. A straight Roman nose, thick dark brown eyebrows, and a square jawline covered in stubble. Close-cropped sandy brow
n hair and emerald green eyes that sparkled like emeralds.

  Sergeant Dennis Cooper was the perfect example of what a real man should look like.

  Or at least the perfect man of my dreams.

  Wow! I needed sleep.

  “Good night, Leonard.”

  “Call me,” Leonard said as we walked away.

  “Not bloody likely,” I grumbled as I practically dragged Cooper toward the exit.

  “Friend of yours?” Cooper asked as he grabbed my arm.

  I growled again.

  I liked this growling thing. I felt it adequately conveyed my anger and contempt for whoever I was growling at.

  “Do you attend these parties often?”

  “More than I would like.”

  Why I couldn’t just go on photo shoots, have my picture taken, and call it good was beyond me. I understood attending fashion shows, and the occasional cocktail party just to schmooze, but I felt as if that was all I had been doing for the last couple of months.

  I really needed to consider a new agent.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Cooper tightened his hold on my arm. “This isn’t the time or place.”

  Yep. I rolled my eyes.

  It was a little harder getting out of the building than I was sure Cooper thought it would be. I wasn’t at the top of my industry. I wasn’t even in the top ten. But I had a lot of acquaintances and coworkers.

  I also thought a lot of people were eaten up with curiosity about the man I was with. I just smiled and introduced him as a friend.

  I did not give people Cooper’s name.

  That just didn’t seem smart.

  By the time our feet hit the sidewalk, I was done for. My feet ached worse than they had when I ran through the jungle of South America a few months back, and I’d had four of them at the time.

  This sucked.

  Cooper whistled and waved his hand. When the taxi he had hailed pulled over, Cooper pulled the back door open and held it for me. I climbed in and started to scoot over to make space for Cooper, but the door closed behind me.