Lie with Me by Stephanie Tyler

fuzzy kind of girl.
    He hadn’t answered her question yet, seemed almost suspended in time, and for a fleeting moment she was sure he’d kiss her.
    She couldn’t let that happen, pushed against him with her free hand and forced him to give her some space. “Why are you here?”
    His eyes turned hard. “I need to know more about Gabriel Creighton.”
    She’d always known Dylan to have a one-track mind when he wanted something, although it typically didn’t have anything to do with another man. “No. Now please leave.”
    “You ask so nicely, and without the bullets this time, but I like it here. I might go for a swim.” He smiled and her heart sank because, even though he’d released her, he began to strip. Shirt first, revealing an impossibly hard chest and ripped abs—she attempted to tear her gaze away, but couldn’t. Not when his shorts dropped and he stood completely, unabashedly, naked. “Want to join me?”
    “No thanks.”
    He walked past her, out the double doors to the pool, his ass firmly muscled as he strode along the deck and then dove into the pool.
    She followed and stood at the edge, watching as he swam laps back and forth. She had few options. One involved shooting him, again—which hadn’t worked so well the last time.
    The other was to bring in backup, but she didn’t want to deal with the questions.
    She didn’t think there was anyone else in the world who wanted to know more about Gabriel Creighton than she did, and so she’d wait Dylan out.
    C am had left Skylar at her opened laptop. There was no Internet access tonight, but she’d said she planned on writing until her battery wore out, and he figured she was safe enough locked in the house in the middle of a blizzard, with no comms, to give him a few minutes of peace.
    Peace. What a fucking joke; he hadn’t had that in years. Sitting with Skylar, watching her breasts through the thin tank top, wasn’t doing anything to help that either, and so he excused himself.
    She seemed happy enough to be rid of him, had actually waved one hand distractedly as if dismissing him.
    He needed a shower anyway. A cold one maybe, and a nice shave. It had been too long since he’d seen his own face. As he cut away the growth he thought about the months he’d spent reconning in Afghanistan, about how he’d almost managed to forget everything about his early life. About how, with the Delta team, he was simply one of the guys.
    When he looked in the mirror, he realized he looked much younger than he felt.
    He stripped down in the soft light the portable lamp provided and noted the small scar on his arm—white against his tanned skin.
    He’d almost forgotten about it.
    After his last mission, the first thing he’d done was cut out the chip Gabriel had implanted into his arm so long ago. Now he stared at the line that Dylan had stitched up for him after digging the chip out, and thought about it sitting in Dylan’s steel-encased safe. Thanks to the steel, not only couldn’t Gabriel track him any longer, but Dylan’s house couldn’t be tracked either.
    Yet Gabriel had found him. The man always could.
    Stick with the plan, Cameron. Get close to Sky .
    Yeah, no problem staying close. But there were other problems that could prove to be more complicated than he and Dylan had planned. Dylan, who he’d called three times over the past hour, to no avail. But finally, Dylan buzzed him back.
    Cam turned on the water before he spoke. “Gabriel’s missing.”
    “Spooks are never missing, Cam, you know that.” Dylan’s voice remained easy, but Cam knew his friend was anything but. Dylan was always coiled to strike when and if necessary, and this job would prove no exception.
    “He hasn’t contacted Skylar—she’s left messages. Someone’s threatening her.” He told Dylan about the letters and his friend let out a small whistle.
    “When you step in it, you really step in it.”
    “Yeah, thanks.” He paused. “I found a picture of Gabriel.”