Read Online Barefoot With a Stranger (Barefoot Bay Undercover Book 2) by Roxanne St. Claire - Free Book Online
Authors: Roxanne St. Claire
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never done anything spontaneous, Chessie?” he asked.
She might kill him. Was that an option in this plan?
Was he trying to make her writhe in misery?The flashing-neon hickey on her neck wasn’t agonizing enough? “Spontaneity rarely works out well for me. Especially recently.”
They stared at each other for a second, just long enough for Chessie’s mouth to go bone dry and her heart rate to kick back up again. Did he have to be so freaking gorgeous? Did he have to undress her with his eyes and give just enough of a smile that she could remember everything that mouth did to her?
“Chessie, I know,” Gabe asked, making them both whip around to give him their attention. Here it comes, Chessie thought. Here it comes. We are so busted .
“What?” she asked, mustering innocence.
“I know you don’t want to do this. I know it’s not in your wheelhouse, Chess.” Gabe put his hand over hers. “But I need blood on the ground.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“You won’t shed any,” he assured her. “But you’re family. And this boy could be, too. I need to find out.”
She felt her eyes shutter in disgust at his use of the ultimate F-word, and the fact that he was essentially misreading her hesitation as fear. She wasn’t afraid of the field. She was just afraid of complications in the field.
On a sigh, she reached into her bag for the laptop sleeve like a baby grabbing a blankie.
“Family,” she muttered, thinking back to a few weeks ago when she’d last been here, helping Gabe hack a jump drive he’d stolen from the TV and radio station that broadcasted news from the States to Cuba.
The moment was still crystal clear in her memory: She’d located in the encrypted database a woman Gabe had been asking her to find, only to discover the word “deceased” next to her name.
Overcome by his emotions and unwilling to explain anything to Chessie, Gabe had left her the room, and Chessie had done what she always did in a crisis—look for more information to make sense of it. What she’d found didn’t make sense at all, except that it did. A boy named Gabriel left behind by a dead woman.
“So, we’re in Cuba,” she said, opening the computer. “We have our cover. We get past customs, security, and clearances. Then what?”
“You’ll start in a town about a three-and-a-half-hour drive from Havana. My best contact in Cuba told me to look for a Ramos family on a farm in Caibarién.”
While she typed the name into Google Earth, Mal snorted. “Caibarién? The town that time forgot.”
“You’ve been there?” Chessie asked.
“I’ve been all over Cuba,” he said.
“Which is why he’s the perfect person to be your partner for this job,” Gabe reminded her. “But he’s right. It might be waterfront, but Caibarién is a pretty sad place. Don’t expect palm trees, sunshine, or umbrella drinks. Just go to this farm and find out what you can. Get in and get out.”
Frustration zinged through her, as it always did when directions were vague and…squishy. “Be specific, Gabe. What do we do before we get out?”
“Find Gabriel Winter,” Gabe said.
“And I absolutely can’t do that online?” Couldn’t she just use her computer to start digging? Not get on a plane with some sexy guy who gave her one crazy night of toe-curling sex and then took off like a thief in the night when he found out her name.
“Maybe you could do it online, Chess,” Gabe said, exasperation clipping his words. “But. I need proof. I need DNA. I need a…piece of this kid. Hair, skin, a toothbrush. Something.”
“We go in and get this kid’s toothbrush?” she asked, her voice rising. “Like the witch’s broomstick?”
“We can do it,” Mal said. “We’ll find the child, ascertain his situation, get some DNA, and come back.”
His confidence was…attractive. And a little scary. “But how do you just waltz onto a farm and steal a four-year-old’s toothbrush?” she asked.
Gabe looked
She might kill him. Was that an option in this plan?
Was he trying to make her writhe in misery?The flashing-neon hickey on her neck wasn’t agonizing enough? “Spontaneity rarely works out well for me. Especially recently.”
They stared at each other for a second, just long enough for Chessie’s mouth to go bone dry and her heart rate to kick back up again. Did he have to be so freaking gorgeous? Did he have to undress her with his eyes and give just enough of a smile that she could remember everything that mouth did to her?
“Chessie, I know,” Gabe asked, making them both whip around to give him their attention. Here it comes, Chessie thought. Here it comes. We are so busted .
“What?” she asked, mustering innocence.
“I know you don’t want to do this. I know it’s not in your wheelhouse, Chess.” Gabe put his hand over hers. “But I need blood on the ground.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“You won’t shed any,” he assured her. “But you’re family. And this boy could be, too. I need to find out.”
She felt her eyes shutter in disgust at his use of the ultimate F-word, and the fact that he was essentially misreading her hesitation as fear. She wasn’t afraid of the field. She was just afraid of complications in the field.
On a sigh, she reached into her bag for the laptop sleeve like a baby grabbing a blankie.
“Family,” she muttered, thinking back to a few weeks ago when she’d last been here, helping Gabe hack a jump drive he’d stolen from the TV and radio station that broadcasted news from the States to Cuba.
The moment was still crystal clear in her memory: She’d located in the encrypted database a woman Gabe had been asking her to find, only to discover the word “deceased” next to her name.
Overcome by his emotions and unwilling to explain anything to Chessie, Gabe had left her the room, and Chessie had done what she always did in a crisis—look for more information to make sense of it. What she’d found didn’t make sense at all, except that it did. A boy named Gabriel left behind by a dead woman.
“So, we’re in Cuba,” she said, opening the computer. “We have our cover. We get past customs, security, and clearances. Then what?”
“You’ll start in a town about a three-and-a-half-hour drive from Havana. My best contact in Cuba told me to look for a Ramos family on a farm in Caibarién.”
While she typed the name into Google Earth, Mal snorted. “Caibarién? The town that time forgot.”
“You’ve been there?” Chessie asked.
“I’ve been all over Cuba,” he said.
“Which is why he’s the perfect person to be your partner for this job,” Gabe reminded her. “But he’s right. It might be waterfront, but Caibarién is a pretty sad place. Don’t expect palm trees, sunshine, or umbrella drinks. Just go to this farm and find out what you can. Get in and get out.”
Frustration zinged through her, as it always did when directions were vague and…squishy. “Be specific, Gabe. What do we do before we get out?”
“Find Gabriel Winter,” Gabe said.
“And I absolutely can’t do that online?” Couldn’t she just use her computer to start digging? Not get on a plane with some sexy guy who gave her one crazy night of toe-curling sex and then took off like a thief in the night when he found out her name.
“Maybe you could do it online, Chess,” Gabe said, exasperation clipping his words. “But. I need proof. I need DNA. I need a…piece of this kid. Hair, skin, a toothbrush. Something.”
“We go in and get this kid’s toothbrush?” she asked, her voice rising. “Like the witch’s broomstick?”
“We can do it,” Mal said. “We’ll find the child, ascertain his situation, get some DNA, and come back.”
His confidence was…attractive. And a little scary. “But how do you just waltz onto a farm and steal a four-year-old’s toothbrush?” she asked.
Gabe looked
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