Cobb by Maryann Jordan
8
Cobb ordered the security items he needed and made arrangements for them to be delivered to Josie’s house the next day. He’d asked her to dinner again, but this time she offered to cook. He still wondered why she didn’t want to go out, but a home-cooked meal sounded perfect, so he wasn’t about to turn it down.
She didn’t work over the weekend, so he planned to install the security Saturday at her house and then at the clinic on Sunday. Taking a few minutes while she cooked, he called LSI, not surprised when Josh answered. “Man, don’t you ever leave?”
“You got me when I was just heading out,” Josh replied. “Rick’s taking over for me in a few minutes, but he’s already here so you get us both.”
“Good. What have you been able to find out?”
“Levi’s working with the FBI on Caesar’s disappearance, and he’ll talk to you on Monday. The agent’s name is Floyd Gomez. He’s located in the Albuquerque office, but his specialty is fraud.”
“Can’t he talk today?”
“According to Levi, he’s on an assignment that’s taken him to Ciudad Juarez, Mexico. Something to do with the casinos there. But don’t worry, he’s being brought up to speed on this case and will get with you on Monday.
“As far as the bookkeeping, it’s a fucking labyrinth. It looks like some of the newer donations have truly come from local businesses that were represented at your father’s charity event. I’m still looking at those because I want to make sure, but nothing right now is standing out with them. There are three of the others that were listed as making donations within the past two months, and they’re dummy corporations. Some dummy corps are buried so deep under legalese and more dummy corps that the typical person wouldn’t be able to find anything. But two of these have fake presences. Of course, that’s how Josephine was able to get hold of someone, which turned out to be a mistake. Or good, I guess, depending on how you look at it.”
He hated that she was being threatened, but Josh’s words made him more determined to not let her out of his sight.
“We’re still digging, but I can report that one of them buried under a couple of other dummy corporations is tied back to an attorney in El Paso. Carson Wright. Who, with digging, looks like he’s tied into at least one business in Ciudad Juarez, Mexico, right over the border.”
“You thinking cartels?”
“Too early to say, but it’s a real possibility.”
Cobb paced back and forth in the guest room, nervous energy pouring out as he thought of Josie being in the crosshairs of a cartel. “Is there anything you can send to me to start looking at? I thought I’d take some time tonight and dig through what I can on this end.”
“Hell, man, it’s a Friday night,” Josh said, then laughed. “Of course, I’m here working on a Friday night, so I’m hardly one to talk, right?”
Chuckling, Cobb shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. Josie’s put me up in her guestroom, so I’m close. She’s also gone over the reports extra so I thought we’d look at things together.”
“I’ll send you what we’ve got, secure, over your phone.”
“Thanks, Josh. Rick. Talk to you soon.” Disconnecting, he shoved his phone into his pocket then stood looking out the window with his hands on his hips. Dropping his head back, he closed his eyes and slowed his thoughts as he calmed his heart rate. The best way for him to keep Josie safe was for him to not let anger and emotions cloud his judgment. Hearing the soft pad of footsteps coming down the hall, he walked toward the door, opening it as she approached.
“Hey, I didn’t know if you were off the phone. Dinner is ready, and I’m just putting it on the table.”
Smiling, he followed her down the hall, trying to keep his eyes off her perfect ass showcased in her leggings. The delicate scent of orange blossoms wafted past, re-igniting memories of her dancing in his arms, and his cock twitched.
Once in the kitchen, needing a task to occupy his mind, he asked, “What would you like to drink?”
She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “There’s beer or wine. I think I’d like wine, please.”
He found the wine opener and removed the cork. “I’ll have the same.” Pouring it into two goblets, he carried them to the table. She followed soon with plates piled with spaghetti topped with homemade sauce and grated cheese.
Sitting at the table, the atmosphere seemed to be much more comfortable than the previous evening. The scent of tomatoes and Italian spices filled the air. “Damn, that smells good. My Grandmother Cobb’s kitchen used to smell like this.”
“Your grandmother?”
“She was born in Italy, and her family moved here when she was just a tiny girl. She always said she learned to cook at her mom’s knee, and I believe it.”
Eyes wide, Josie stared. “Your grandmother is from Italy?”
His fork halted on its way to his mouth. “Uh… yeah. Is there something wrong with that?”
“Only that I’ve just served spaghetti to someone with a native Italian grandmother who is probably a phenomenal cook!” She stared down at her plate. “Now I feel bad. I should have grilled a hamburger.”
Relaxing, he took another bite and grinned. Swallowing, he said, “This is fantastic, Josie. Seriously, my grandmother has nothing on this, but just don’t tell her I said that!”
Her nose scrunched as she took a bite. “My grandmother was from the south. She taught me how to bake, which I love to do on my days off. Maybe tomorrow I’ll whip up some of her chocolate pecan cookies.”
Their conversation flowed, and after rinsing the dishes, they settled onto the living room sofa again. She tucked her legs under her and faced him, much the same as she had the night before.
“So… Jorge the bodyguard at the gala with the smooth lines. Now Jorge the governor’s son and an investigator who can fix an old man’s screen door. I’m curious. Who are you really?”
He wanted her to know but felt a trickle of unease at her possible rejection. Always proud of his heritage, he wondered what she would think of his family. “Growing up, it was sometimes hard to have the same last name as my grandfather, the governor. Or my father, the State Department employee, and then the governor. At least when my father became governor, I had already left home, and Cobb became a nickname… at least the part of a nickname I didn’t mind.”
Seeing her tilt her head in silent question, he chuckled. “The first Recruit Division Commander I ever had called me Corny Cobb.”
She laughed, then tried to cover it up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh at you, but CornyCobb?”
“You know how we like our corn served here… spicy with peppers. In the Navy, it was boiled and boring as hell. He overheard me complain one day and started calling me Corny Cobb. But hey, it was better than some of the other names people got stuck with.”
She continued to smile, and he relaxed into the comfortable cushions. “It wasn’t until I finally got out of boot camp that I got to get rid of the Corny part of the moniker. And now that I live in Maine, going by Cobb feels right. But whenever I come back to New Mexico, it’s just easier to go by Jorge. That’s what my family calls me, of course. And if I’m out somewhere, it keeps me from having any notoriety.”
“I can understand that. I imagine as a younger man, wanting some separation from your family’s name was important.” She hefted her shoulders in a slight shrug. “After all, I didn’t give my last name at the gala, either.”
He held her gaze, which was impressive considering he sighed heavily. He nodded. “Yeah… the gala. You can imagine my surprise when the mission came in. My boss thought I was the best because of my connections, but then I saw your photograph.”
She covered her face, shaking her head. “Oh, that must have been an unpleasant shock.”
He leaned over and gently pulled her hands from her face, holding her gaze. “Shock, yes. Unpleasant? Not at all.”
Josie continued to stare, and her pale blue eyes pulled him in, keeping him mesmerized.
Finally, she cleared her throat and looked back down at her hands. “So, um… you joined the military. Was that to run away from what was here at home?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she grimaced. “I’m sorry, that didn’t sound right.”
He chuckled, loving the blush that crossed her face, making her freckles stand out more. “No, no, it’s all right. It’s a perfectly valid question since we’re getting to know each other. But no, I wasn’t running away from anything that was here. It was more like I was running toward something. My family had given me a wonderful upbringing. Strong and loving, with a chance to travel all over the world. With my diverse cultural heritage, it was sometimes hard to figure out where I fit in. When we lived overseas, it seemed easier. High school for me wasn’t great.”
“For someone who looks like you, that’s hard to imagine.”
Her words hit him in the gut. What does she think about someone who looks like me? “Uh… yeah. I was in ninth grade in a private prep school near Washington, D.C. when Dad was with the State Department. My Native American, Hispanic, Italian, and German heritage is worn on my face… and while our nation’s capital is diverse, that prep school was not. I wanted to fit in but felt as though I didn’t belong anywhere.”
“That must have been hard.”
He started to shrug and then stopped, holding her gaze. Her eyes held understanding, not condemnation. Hesitating for a long moment, he finally nodded. “Yeah… at that age it was.”
She shifted on the sofa, drawing her left leg up and wrapping her arms around her shin, propping her chin on her knee. “When did it get easier?”
“I’d always been big… well, not so much tall as wide. Then, at fifteen, the beginning of my sophomore year, I hit a growth spurt in height but kept the size proportion. So, while the jokes turned to calling me the Hulk, at least I could put the fear of God in them. I’d glare and take a step toward anyone who taunted me, then laugh as they ran away.”
Her lips curved. “I can imagine a younger you in school trying to find your way. I swear, I think that adolescence is the worst age.”
They sat in silence, each to their own thoughts for a few minutes, and he wondered what high school had been like for her. Cheerleader? Prom Queen? Most popular?
“So, the military was next?”
The way she quickly asked the question, he wondered if it was to keep him from asking about her. Not wanting to interrupt the flow of easy conversation they were having, he nodded.
“Yeah. Much to my parents’ chagrin, I joined when I was eighteen. I wasn’t ready for college, even though I’d earned a year’s worth of college credits from my AP classes. I needed to find my place in the world and college just seemed like it would be more of prep school. Joined the Navy. Finished my degree in finance while traveling the world on ship assignments. Got accepted into BUD/S—training to become a SEAL. Made it through, did that for years. Took an assignment with CIA Special Ops and met Mason Hanover. He got out, started a security and investigation company, and hired me when I left the military.”
“Wow, you say it all so succinctly, like boom, boom, boom… there’s my life.”
He barked out laughter and shook his head. “I forget you’re used to people analyzing their life for hours.”
She reached and play-slapped his arm. “Can I help it if I like to listen?”
“Hey, you haven’t shared about you,” he fired back, grinning. “Well, other than you rent because you’re not sure where you want to live, you have a cat with a weird name, and you like to eat.”
Blinking, she reared back. “You shouldn’t mention to a lady that she likes to eat!”
He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.
Rolling her eyes, she glared. “Humph. Maybe I won’t share.”
“Tell you what. You tell me more about you, about high school, and I’ll share more as well.”
Shifting her gaze, she stared toward the fireplace. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, seemingly lost in thought as she nibbled on her lip.
He reached out and touched his finger to her forehead and she jumped. Her head jerked around, and she stared, wide-eyed.
“You were thinking so hard over there, I wondered if you even remembered where you were,” he said, concerned.
“I was… I… well, to be truthful, I wondered what we were doing. You’re here for an investigation. I suppose I’m no longer sure why we’re getting to know each other.”
He shifted his position on the sofa as well, getting a little closer. His arm rested on the back of the cushion. “Maybe if we’d never met before, this would be different. But we did. I fucked up and insulted you when I asked to go get drinks—”
“You did?”
Her pale blue eyes were wide. As a SEAL, he’d been in water all over the world reflecting every color of blue imaginable. Deep blue, sky blue, grey and stormy, blue-green. But he’d never seen any blue the color of her eyes. And staring into their depths, he knew he could drown in them and be happy. Sighing, he nodded slowly. “Yeah, Josie. I fucked up. I pushed when I should have let you set the parameters. I thought I was being suave… a rescuer relieving your untouched drink and taking your hand to dance, but I really just wanted to talk to you.” Her tongue darted out to wet her bottom lip and he stared, wishing things were different. “I’m truly sorry for coming across so pushy. I promise I can do my job and protect you. One thing I’ve learned about you is there’s no bullshit. No playing games. It might have struck me as wrong, but you told me upfront that I’m not your type, so we’ll keep it professional.”
“Oh, Cobb, you have to know your type isn’t for me,” she said, her voice soft as her shoulders hunched.
His brow furrowed, and he leaned back. “Josie, what type am I, and what the hell do you think I can do about it?”
She pursed her lips as a deep blush rose over her cheeks. Letting out a ragged breath, she shook her head and said, “You really want me to say it? You need to hear me?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I do,” he growled. “Tell me what the fuck is wrong with my type.”
“Jesus, just look into the mirror, Cobb. It’s staring right back at you every day. But I get it. There’s nothing you can do about it, unless… I don’t know… wear a bag over your head. Stop eating and get skinny. Don’t shower and start stinking.” She leaned back, her breath ragged as she snorted. “There’s nothing wrong with your type, Cobb. I’ve just never had any luck with guys that are… you know… really good-looking.”
He jerked his head back as air rushed from his lungs, uncertain he heard her correctly. “What?”
Throwing her hands up she repeated, “Good looking. You know… hot. Gorgeous. You look like a bodybuilder and a model all rolled into one. You’re the kind of man who walks into a room and every woman stares as though they are starving and you’re their next meal. Every man stares because you’re the competition they don’t have a prayer of winning against. The kind of man who expects women to fall at their feet because that’s what usually happens. Want me to go on, or have I stroked your ego enough?”
Her words stumbled around in his brain, but her irritation was coming through loud and clear. “You think I’m hot, and that’s why you think I’m not your type.”
“My previous experience would prove me right.”
“Well, Josie, I’m here to tell you that your previous experience is shit if any guy made you feel less. And I’m fucking glad to find out what you were thinking because I can work with that.”
