IBIZA, SPAIN
A LITTLE OVER TWELVE YEARS AGO
Bee sipped loudly at her cappuccino. The waitress had suggested a red wine to go with the Ibiza sunset, but she was already dragging her feet and needed the pick-me-up.
Her thick black sunglasses made it hard to see where the cup was exactly, but the fence was focused on Adam at her side.
‘I think I got a buyer,’ Scott Mott said. ‘I’d like to verify the artwork myself first.’
‘No.’ Bee set her cup down. The table was closer than she’d expected, and some cappuccino sloshed over the side. ‘We’ll pick a neutral appraiser.’
He sighed, looking from her to Adam and back again. ‘All right. Make a list. I’ll pick from that.’
Adam nodded once, crossed his arms over the zipper of his leather jacket and turned to watch the sunset over the water.
Bee mimicked him, crossing her arms over her own leather jacket and trying hard to locate the sunset from behind her thick shades.
Scott Mott dropped a couple bucks on the table and left without a word.
Bee counted to thirty before she slipped her sunglasses off. The light was too bright. She winced and rubbed her eyes.
‘You think we’re being obvious enough?’
Adam moved his sunglasses to the top of his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘Scott Mott has the biggest mouth of any fence I’ve ever known. If this doesn’t work, I’ll retire.’
Bee grinned ‘What a name. Can we go to the hotel now? Please? Pretty please?’
He reached for the rest of her coffee. ‘You don’t want to grab something to eat first?’
‘Room service?’ she suggested, hopeful. ‘I’d like a few hours to enjoy myself before becoming the damsel in distress.’
He drained the cappuccino and set a few more bills on the table.
‘I bet that’s the most money this waitress has ever made for one cup of joe,’ Bee said.
The metal legs of his chair screeched across the brick of the café patio. The patrons closest to them looked their way. Adam grabbed her hand and kissed the tip of her ear.
‘It’s good,’ Bee said. ‘Super natural.’
He tugged her out of the café, and they walked hand in hand down the street.
‘I’m trying,’ he said. ‘I’m not Mr Romance guy. I’m not the grifter.’
Bee stopped walking and pulled him close. ‘You just have to act like you’re desperately in love with me and we’re running away to be art thieves together for all eternity.’
He stuck his free hand in his jacket pocket and almost rolled his eyes before looking down at her upturned face.
Bee wetted her bottom lip. She smiled, slow and wide, a Cheshire cat telling a joke, and kept her eyes locked on his.
He exhaled gutturally when he realized what she was doing.
‘Yeah, yeah, I get it.’ He let go of her hand to wrap an arm around her waist, fingers grazing the back pocket of her jeans. ‘You’re easy to love.’
‘I make it easy to love me,’ Bee corrected, preening. ‘And now, beach please.’
‘Beach please.’
She tucked her face against his chest and laughed. ‘You’re such a dork.’
‘Don’t tell nobody. I got a reputation to protect after all.’
Their hotel room was a ground-level suite, with a full kitchen and a queen-sized bed directly across from the sliding glass doors that led to their own private beach. The artwork was of purple and pink flowers that were strangely feminine, in cheap frames, and the walls were an eggshell white that was so bright it burned her eyes. But the bed was comfortable, the view was superb, and the grey carpet was lush and clean.
She dropped the leather jacket to the floor and kicked off her shoes. Her bikini was the first article of clothing in her suitcase. She grabbed it and darted into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door before changing.
Adam kept his back to her and slid open the door to their private beach.
‘Say what you want about Os.’ Bee stepped out of the bathroom, tying the string behind her neck. ‘He spares no expense on stuff like this.’
Adam turned around and looked at her. If he liked what he saw, his poker face didn’t betray him.
But his mouth did. He said, ‘Sharks are more likely to attack at dusk.’
‘Oh, don’t be scared.’ She grabbed hold of his jacket zipper and pulled it down. ‘I’ll protect you.’
He sighed and undressed the rest of the way.
Bee giggled and hightailed it for the sand outside their room.
‘Aren’t you gonna put on sunscreen?’
‘Later, Mom!’
She froze as soon as she stepped off the artificial flooring. Bee smushed her toes into the damp sand, watching the blue-green waves cap white on top and crash into the shoreline. With no land past what she stood on, the line where the ocean stilled and touched the sky filled the world before her.
Bee spread her arms out and ran. When the water hit her ankles, she raised her hands above her head and dove in.
Her blood screamed in her veins, a million goosebumps covered her flesh and she would’ve gasped from the shock of the cold water if it wouldn’t have drowned her.
She resurfaced with a nose full of salt water and hair in her eyes.
Bee wiped her face clean, pushed her hair out of the way and saw Adam standing on the shore.
‘You coming in? Water’s totally the perfect temperature.’
‘Naw, I’m good.’ He pulled a foot out of the wake and shook it off. ‘A little cold for my taste.’
Bee recognized a challenge when she heard one.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ he warned, taking a step back. ‘Shelby Lynn—’
Her splash only served in getting his shorts wet, but it was enough to make her laugh so hard she snorted.
‘All right. So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?’
She blew a raspberry. ‘I’m already soaked.’
‘Yeah, but you ain’t sandy.’
‘Don’t you dare! Adam!’
He grabbed a handful of sand. Bee ran for the safety of the chilly waters, arms over her head to protect her hair. She kicked as much water his way as she could, but the splash to his torso didn’t deter him.
He grabbed her elbow with his free arm, and she shrieked, spinning them both around in the knee-deep water.
Adam laughed, friendly and warm, and it surprised her how much she liked to hear it.
Not as surprised as he was when she tackled him.
They collapsed into the water, the waves crashing over them. He was still laughing when they crawled back up on to dry land.
So was she.
Bee plopped down on the sand and pushed her hair out of her face. ‘It’s my first time in the ocean.’
Adam sat down next to her, extending his legs out into the oncoming waves. ‘Really? How old are you?’
She stuck her tongue out at him.
‘You aren’t doing yourself any favors here.’
‘We didn’t exactly have a lot of money for vacations. I didn’t leave Arizona until Os scouted me. Small town called Happy Valley.’
‘Never heard of it,’ Adam said.
‘No one has.’ Bee leaned back on her elbows and studied the place on the horizon where the ocean kissed the sky. ‘It’s beautiful here.’
Adam copied her posture. ‘Water’s a little cold.’
‘Yeah.’ She grinned. ‘A little chillier than I expected.’
‘Listen.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Why don’t we go out on the town for dinner? We’re supposed to be obvious and all that. Ocean’ll still be here tomorrow.’
Bee frowned. Sure, the ocean would still be there, but she might not be. He had a point though. The mission was to be obvious in their over-the-top love for one another, and even though staying locked up in a hotel room was a good way to be obvious about that, it only worked if the interested party knew where to look.
‘Yeah, OK.’ She stood up and dusted the sand off her legs.
The sand remained on her legs.
‘I get first dibs on the shower though, and I get to take as long as I want dressing up, and all you get to say is’ – she dropped her voice low – ‘worth it.’
He smiled so bright his eyes wrinkled and his dimple popped. ‘Deal.’
Bee washed her makeup off in the bathroom sink. She worked the soap into her cheeks, over her lips, but her face stayed flushed.
It was fake, she told herself. It was for show. Just because it had to look real didn’t mean it was real.
Just because it had felt real didn’t mean it was real.
And just because she’d only ever kissed one other man in her entire life didn’t make Adam special. Sure, he was a good kisser. One might even call him a great kisser.
But it was a con. A play. And even though he’d pulled her in close when they’d danced under the stars to the man playing guitar and softly singing in Spanish in front of an illuminated fountain … even though his lips had grazed her cheek before finding her own, hesitant and growing bolder when she’d responded …
Fake.
It was fake.
This was all fake.
Bee unrolled a fluffy towel and dabbed the water off her face.
The kisses that had followed, when he’d picked her off her feet and spun her round and kissed her hard in front of the hotel, or when he’d taken her face in both hands and kissed her soft outside the restaurant …
Those were even faker.
She held on to the countertop and ducked her head, trying to summon her courage from where it had burrowed deep inside of her. Now that they were back in their hotel room, away from prying eyes, things would go back to normal.
They’d be friends. Friends who didn’t kiss each other.
Friends who slept next to each other platonically in the only bed in the room.
This was fake. She didn’t need to be nervous.
She could go out there and sleep next to him and not worry about her experience level or how detailed her most recent shave was because the sparks between them weren’t real.
‘OK, pull it together.’
She pumped a small amount of lotion into her palm and walked out of the bathroom moisturizing her hands, lest he think she was using the facilities for more unappealing purposes.
Not that she cared what he thought because they were just friends.
Colleagues mostly. They were colleagues who were friendly.
Adam was already in bed, reading a biography of Alexander Hamilton, the covers pulled up to his belly button.
He wasn’t wearing a shirt.
That was fine. He could sleep in whatever he wanted to sleep in. Or not. She didn’t care.
Bee pulled back the comforter and lay down next to him, feeling self-conscious in her simple yellow nightgown.
Maybe she should have packed a robe. Did the hotel have one? They probably did. Should she get up and check the closet?
‘You ready for bed?’ Adam asked over the book cover.
Bee clutched the covers to her chin. ‘Yeah, I’m beat. Could be a busy day for me tomorrow.’
He grinned and set the book on his end table. ‘Could be. Could not be. Depends how far off the mark is.’
She rolled to her side so she could see him. ‘Clever. You have quite a way with words.’
Adam turned off the light and settled into his spot. ‘It’s good cause it works on two levels.’
‘Yeah, that’s why I was praising you.’ Bee smiled. ‘Don’t make me take it back now.’
She could see his profile in the moonlight; watched his lashes move each time he blinked. The overwhelming desire to run her finger over the bridge of his nose filled her. Instead, she tucked both hands under her head.
‘You think he’s far off?’
Adam exhaled through that nose of his. ‘I don’t know. Os seemed to think he’d be nearby. But nothing’s gonna happen tonight, Bee.’
Her heart sank at his words before she realized what he meant.
‘Get some rest. I’m here. I got you.’
Her heart flew back up to her chest so hard it overshot its proper location, ending up somewhere in the vicinity of her throat.
Her cheeks warmed, and she thought about the kiss in front of the fountain. Her lips tingled at the memory, her stomach coiling tight.
It wasn’t real, she told herself. None of this is real.
So … why should it matter?
Bee swallowed and eased one hand out from under her head. Her fingers found his under the sheets.
Adam laced his fingers through hers, and the coil in her stomach pulled so hard it almost snapped.
Bee took another steadying breath and rubbed her thumb over his, back and forth, soft and slow.
He bumped his foot against hers. Bee wasn’t sure if he’d done it on purpose until he tickled her arch with his big toe. She giggled and ran her heel up his calf.
Adam mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like, ‘Oh hell,’ and then he was rising on one arm, hovering over her, his hand tangled in her hair. ‘Is this OK?’ His breath ghosted across her lips. ‘Do you – do you want—’
‘Yes.’ She wrapped her hands behind his neck and urged him closer. ‘Yes.’
She could feel him smile in the dark.
He was still smiling when he kissed her.
PRESENT
Bee regretted consciousness the moment she achieved it. Memories of Ibiza had plagued her fitful sleep. They’d known, going into it, that the mark fancied Adam. That was why they’d laid their pretend relationship on so thick. They’d wanted to draw him out. She hadn’t expected the fake relationship to be real. And neither of them had expected the mark to show his displeasure by trying to kill her. The mark himself hadn’t expected Adam to take the bullet instead. It had all been one giant mess that had led to a giant heartache, and Os had only sighed and complained that she’d failed to put a tracker on their target.
She rolled on to her back and winced, her side shouting out a complaint. She cracked one eye open. Then she closed it, because what the hell had she just seen?
Stacks of unsteady cardboard boxes towering to the ceiling greeted her. On the side of every box were the letters MRE written in thick black Sharpie.
Bee wiped the drool off her chin and turned her head. Malika slept next to her in the full-sized bed. There was the barest of spaces between the mattress they shared and the wall of plastic shelving units filled with paper and personal hygiene products.
‘Woah.’
‘Yeah,’ Malika said, voice groggy. ‘Seems like Linda is a bit of a prepper.’
Bee rubbed her eyes and left her hands there. How much pressure would it take to push her eyeballs into her skull?
Her empty stomach turned at the memory of the Mammoth and her shoe. Groaning, she pulled the covers over her head and decided to live underneath them for the rest of time.
‘Bee,’ Malika yawned. ‘Don’t rouse me with your angst.’
Bee burrowed deeper under the blankets. ‘I’m not angsting. I’m just never leaving this room. Why would I? It’s got all the toilet paper I could ever need.’
‘Mmhmm.’ Malika tugged the blanket off Bee until it clung to the tip of her nose. ‘It’s gonna be OK. We’re getting Oliver back today. No matter what.’
She tilted her head back on the pillow and stared at the bars of light across the ceiling. She wanted to trust Malika, wanted to trust in herself, in the plan that she’d made and now only needed to check off the steps of. A to-do list of survival.
But most of all, she wanted to trust Adam.
She still loved him. Damn it all, she still loved him.
Bee blinked rapidly up at the light. ‘You, uh, you know where the bathroom is?’
‘Down the hall two doors.’
She tossed off the covers and eased herself out of bed. Someone – she assumed Malika and Linda – had dressed her in a pair of elastic-waisted grey slacks and an old nurse’s scrub top decorated in various Snoopies. ‘Ah, fashion,’ she said.
Her side throbbed in protest, but she kept moving anyway. ‘Why don’t you see what Cardova arranged for us?’
‘No problem,’ Malika said. ‘Hey, Bee?’
She waited, holding the doorknob.
‘I love you.’
‘I love you too.’