Shades of Gray (KGI #6)(12)

“I didn’t get much sleep,” Cole said slyly.

Dolphin guffawed. “You finally get laid, dude? I was beginning to think you were considering monkhood.”

P.J. wanted to crawl under the seat. It wasn’t that the discussion was anything out of the ordinary. When she was working, she was just one of the guys. She didn’t get a pass because she was female, and she liked it that way. No way she wanted them acting all weird around her, afraid to say anything for fear of offending her.

What surprised her even more was that if Dolphin’s words were to be taken to heart, Cole had told the truth about not hopping into bed with just anyone.

“Monkhood? Nah. Just needed to meet the right woman.”

Dolphin made an exaggerated rear back with his head. “Dude! Don’t tell me you’re off the market! I knew the damn Kellys were bad influences. If we aren’t careful, we’re all going to be domesticated and ball-less before it’s over with.”

P.J. closed her eyes and willed Dolphin to drive faster.

“Nothing wrong with one woman,” Cole drawled. “As long as it’s the right one.”

“So, do tell,” Dolphin urged. “What’s she like?”

Cole grinned. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Thank God.

“So that’s why you were out of town, then,” Dolphin mused. “How she feel about you being yanked out of her bed so abruptly?”

Cole cut a glance over his shoulder in P.J.’s direction, and she shot him a murderous glare that said If you don’t shut up, I’ll kill you.

He chuckled and drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “She was remarkably understanding. Of course, I promised her I’d be back as soon as I possibly could.”

P.J. choked and then coughed to cover the sound. She was so going to kick his damn ass over this. He was going to torture her endlessly, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it without letting everyone else know they’d slept together.

“When was the last time you got laid, P.J.?”

Her eyes widened as she stared back at Dolphin, who was peering at her in the rearview mirror. It wasn’t as if it was an out-of-the-ordinary question, especially coming from Dolphin, who had no couth. The whole “one of the guys” thing. But his timing sucked ass.

Cole turned in his seat and sent her a wicked grin. “Yeah, P.J., when was the last time you got nasty between the sheets?”

She flipped them both off and turned her gaze out the window as they flew down the interstate.

She dozed on and off, trying to block out the memory of the night before. She was jerked awake when her head bumped the window, and she straightened to see they were driving down a long dirt driveway.

“Wow,” she said.

“Yeah,” Cole replied. “Impressive.”

Acres of rolling pasture spread out on either side of the driveway. In the distance a huge pond glistened in the fading afternoon sun. Horses grazed sporadically. She hadn’t imagined Steele to be a horse person.

A sprawling ranch house was situated in the middle of the small block of acreage that was cleared. Thick forest surrounded them on all sides, and knowing Steele, he likely owned it all and controlled access as tightly as they did Fort Knox.

“Hey, did you have to give a blood sample at the gate?” P.J. said as she leaned forward.

Dolphin chuckled. “He damn near made me get out and drop trou to give him a urine specimen.”

P.J. grinned. They gave Steele shit privately, but to his face—and behind his back too—they gave him absolute respect. They might joke about how much of a hard-ass he was, but he had their unwavering loyalty.

Steele had given her a chance. Despite her past, her record. He’d looked beyond what was on paper and the fact that she’d walked away from a position on a S.W.A.T. team, and he’d believed in her.

In return she gave him one hundred and fifty percent every time.

Their team was kick-ass and she knew so without false modesty. They worked like a well-oiled machine. She and Cole were damn good snipers. Baker and Renshaw were the muscle and the brains behind explosives and tactical maneuvers. Dolphin was their utility man. He could do a little bit of everything, whatever the team needed. Steele was just one badass motherf*cker and he could do it all.

Not that Cole wasn’t just as much of a badass . . . But he, more often than not, was sniping with P.J. He’d actually scared her shitless when he’d taken a bullet when the teams had gone into Colombia to rescue Rachel Kelly from a f**ked-up situation.

She’d never admit it. Not in a million years.

Now it made her think of Dolphin’s own close call not so long ago.

“Hey man, you feeling okay?” she asked as they pulled to a stop behind the other parked vehicles.

Baker and Renshaw were obviously already there.

Dolphin turned with a lifted brow. “What’s this? Concern from my teammate?”

She scowled. “Of course I’m concerned. Did you get clearance for this?”

He shook his head and got out of the truck and then politely opened her door for her.

“I’m fine,” he said, when she stared up at him.

He held up his fist and she smiled and bumped it. Cole tossed her the bag that he got out of the bed of the truck, and they headed toward the doorway.