A muscle jumped along Junior’s jawline, and he answered her slowly, like he was trying to keep his temper. “We’re not going to tear out of anywhere. We’ll leave at a non-suspicious speed.”
Aly’s gaze swiveled toward the front of the van. “You sure about that after the way your last driver panicked?”
Junior shook his head. “Vinny isn’t driving today. Now, will you quit it with the twenty questions? We’ve been over all this.”
Aly flopped sideways into me. “Sorry, but I’m nervous, and the best way to ease my anxiety is to learn as much as possible.”
Junior blew out a breath, his temper fading. “I get it, but there’s not much for you and me to do but sit here and look pretty.”
She frowned at him. “I’m not nervous for us.”
I bumped my knee into hers. “That’s sweet, but I’m sure our new friends will be fine despite their delicate appearances.” A glance showed me that I didn’t get so much as a lip-twitch with that comment. These guys were going to be harder to crack than I thought.
“I’m not talking about them either,” Aly said, then grimaced. She leaned forward again to look past me. “No offense.”
She got a head nod from one but nothing else. Oh, to have such self-control. Silence was descending on the van, and the urge to break the tension with another joke was almost too strong to resist.
Thankfully, Aly saved me from myself by wrapping her fingers through mine and looking up at me. “Are you going to be okay?”
My insides turned warm and fuzzy as I stared into her large brown eyes. She looked so concerned, her brows drawn together, lower lip pinched between her teeth. If it wasn’t for our audience, I would have swooped in and kissed her worry away.
Instead, I raised my free hand and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll be fine. And if shit goes sideways, don’t try to wait for me.” I leaned down and bumped my forehead into hers, dropping my voice so only she would hear it. “You might have noticed, but I’m very good at sneaking around. I’ll be able to get myself out of there if I have to.”
The corners of her eyes crinkled. “Then let’s hope nothing happens because I don’t know if I could leave you behind.”
“Hey,” Junior called out, “love birds. You need to mic up.”
I reluctantly turned from Aly and accepted a contraption made of slim plastic from the guy beside me.
“Throat mic,” he said, pulling his on.
I glanced down at the one in my hand and wondered if they’d miss it if I “accidentally” forgot to take it off later, and it ended up coming home with me. It looked military-grade, the collar so slim that I’d probably barely feel it once it was on. A nearly transparent, whisper-thin cable wound up from it to a small earbud speaker. I’d never seen anything like it before, and the urge to dissect it and figure out how it worked was strong.
“Here,” Aly said, taking it from me. “I’ll help you put it on.”
I turned toward her in silent acquiescence, grounding myself in her presence, trying to tell my racing heartbeat that everything would be okay. The men in the van were professionals, and their strategy was solid. I just needed to get in, wipe Brad’s computer, and get out. They would handle the rest, and if everything went according to plan, this whole operation would take less than half an hour.
“Lean down,” Aly said.
I bowed, breathing deep as she lifted the collar over my head. This close, I could smell her shampoo, and it took me right back to the shower we’d shared. After the mind-blowing sex, I’d turned her around and washed her hair for her, lathering her strands and kneading her scalp while she went boneless within my grasp.
“Head up,” she said, and I complied. Her nimble fingers tightened the collar around my neck. “How’s that?”
I raised my voice to a squeak. “Little tight.”
She grinned and loosened it. “How about now?”
“Perfect,” I told her. Just like you, I wanted to add but stopped myself when I remembered our audience. This woman had a way of making me forget where I was, and I’d never been more grateful for it than now.
She tapped my chin. “Turn your head.”
I did what she said and ended up facing Junior.
“You remember what to do?” he asked.
I nodded. “Let the A-Team lead the way, and don’t touch anything but the computer.”
Aly slipped my earbud into place, and I lifted my hand and adjusted it until it was comfortable.
“We’re almost there,” the guy at the far end of Junior’s bench called out. He had a laptop open and balanced on his knees. He was the tech guy staying behind to monitor our progress and help with anything we might need, including cutting the power long enough for us to get inside Brad’s place undetected so we could disarm the security system from inside.
Junior shifted across from us. “You sure you can pull this off?”
I grinned. “It’ll be a cakewalk.”
It was not, in fact, a cakewalk. We were only ten minutes into our little operation and had already encountered several problems. The first was that Brad’s house had a beefy generator, and the moment Junior’s guy cut the power, it rumbled to life. Of course, the security system was hooked up to it, and I watched with my jaw clenched while the “hacker” bumbled his way through disarming it remotely, repeatedly telling me to shut up and let him concentrate when I tried to point out there was a faster way.
The second problem occurred as we rounded the property. A raised fist from the front of our five-man line signaled a halt. I waited, breath steaming in the frigid night air, while the leader slunk to the edge of the house. He leaned down and picked something up that I couldn’t see from my distance because Brad’s closest neighbors didn’t have generators, so it was darker than sin between the buildings.
The man made a motion like he’d thrown something, and a heartbeat later, floodlights lit up Brad’s backyard like a Roman candle. We flattened ourselves against the side of the house to keep to the shadows.
Someone swore, their voice loud in my ear because of the earbud.
“What is it?” Junior asked. “What happened?”
“We told you to keep the line clear,” someone snapped at him, and the urge to ooh was so strong I had to bite my lip to shut myself up.
“The lights are tied to the generator,” our lead man said. “We’ll have to disable them remotely.” He turned and motioned to the guy in front of me. “Get up here with the jammer.”
The squat man scurried forward, pulling a device that looked like a radar gun from his Batman-style toolbelt. Watching him carefully aim it around the corner of the house before clicking a button that instantly killed the lights was one of the coolest things I had ever seen, and I wondered if the pocket-picking skills I’d developed during my brief, rebellious teenage stage were up to the task of lifting it off him.
Apparently, I turned into a kleptomaniac around advanced technology, but who could blame me? A magical jammer that killed lights with a single flick? There wasn’t a tech geek alive who wouldn’t have developed a sudden case of grabby hands in my place.
“Let’s go,” the lead man said.
I kept my hand braced on the wall as we started forward, wondering how he could see where he was going after those floodlights had ruined our night vision. The answer of “he can’t” came a second later when he tripped over something buried in the snow and went diving head-first into the shrubbery.
The noises coming over the line from his struggle to free himself were so loud that I nearly pulled the speaker out of my ear.