Love Under Two Undercover Cops [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
The Lusty, Texas Collection
Love Under Two Undercover Cops
Having suddenly found herself out of work, Nancy Jessop returns home to Lusty from DC. Determined to get on with her life and never look back, she’s shocked when two hot lawyers, Washington lobbyists Eli Barton and Jeremiah Winthrop, show up at her cousin Gord’s engagement party at Lusty Appetites. Nancy wastes no time in telling them to leave—which of course prompts them to do the exact opposite.
The men need to come clean about a couple of things. The first is that they’re not just lawyers—they’re FBI agents who’ve spent the last couple of years working undercover as members of a task force.
The second is more complicated: they are in love with her, but they have reason to suspect she’s somehow landed on the shit list of a very influential, and very unsavory politician.
Will Eli and Jeremiah be able to stop the man bent on harming their woman—and win her trust and love?
Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 91,338 words
LOVE UNDER TWO UNDERCOVER COPS
The Lusty, Texas Collection
Cara Covington
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
LOVE UNDER TWO UNDERCOVER COPS
Copyright © 2014 by Cara Covington
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-996-3
First E-book Publication: July 2014
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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DEDICATION
To my family. Without your love and your support, I couldn’t do what I do. Your pride in me means the world.
Especially, as always, this book is dedicated to my husband, David. You’re my biggest fan, and for that I am truly grateful.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I wouldn’t be where I am today, were it not for the dedication of my readers. I am blessed, and humbled beyond words by the loyalty of you all. I’m especially grateful for the Ladies and Lad of my street team, The Lusty Ladies. Y’all are always there for me. You have my eternal gratitude.
I’m grateful to the lovely and talented Miss Heather Rainier for being the excellent author that she is, and generously engaging with me in our crossover fun. Thank you, Heather, for letting me borrow Gracie, Ethan, and Summer.
Thanks go to my wonderful beta reader, Stormy. Thank you, my friend, for helping to keep me on track, and asking just the right questions.
I’d also like to give thanks to the women and men of Siren Publishing. I am proud to be associated with this wonderful group of professionals. I’m especially grateful to Diana, my publisher, for her ongoing faith in me.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About the Author
LOVE UNDER TWO UNDERCOVER COPS
The Lusty, Texas Collection
CARA COVINGTON
Copyright © 2014
Chapter 1
“I can’t believe you’re really leaving Washington!”
Nancy Jessop shrugged in response as she took a sip of her diet cola. Rhonda Blackburn had voiced that opinion at least five times since Wednesday night. Two of those five times had been right here during her farewell lunch.
Nancy wasn’t going to point that out, however, because Rhonda was doing her a huge favor by taking over her apartment. Of course, in true Washington fashion, that really was a quid pro quo since the apartment was in a prime location—Georgetown, second floor with a balcony and a view of the Potomac. Rhonda had jumped on the chance to sublet.
Nancy mentally cringed at that last thought. That had been a bitchy kind of thought—the thought of a person who’d spent altogether way too much time in DC.
“I can’t believe you quit working for Senator Cordell! He’s a senior senator, for God’s sake!” Brenda Murdock’s tone spoke volumes of her opinion of Nancy’s intelligence—or more specifically, her lack thereof.
Nancy just shrugged again, and set her drink down. “What can I say? When it’s time for a change, it’s time for
a change.”
“And you do like to just leap when the impulse strikes.” Sybil Ellis, the fourth attendee at this luncheon, likely didn’t realize her shot had hit very close to home.
Nancy had been told variations of that sentiment all her life. Back home her cousins called her Hurricane Nancy. They also liked to say she was the conclusion-jumping queen of Lusty, Texas. Perhaps she was. Of course, no one ever remarked on the fact that she’d been proven right far more than she’d been proven wrong.
Considering that the other women at her table were all on their second glasses of wine, she would just let their comments slide. I’ll chalk it up to one more reason why it’s not a good idea to drink in the middle of the day. She didn’t need the reminder, of course, because she never did. It actually had occurred to her that since this luncheon at the trendy and very expensive Lafayette Restaurant with a view of the White House was being held in her honor, she could have bent her rule, just this once.
But even though she’d known these women for more than seven years, she didn’t feel comfortable letting her hair down and drinking with them.
And isn’t that just a sad, sad thing to have to admit, if only to myself?
Nancy had been doing a lot of soul searching over the last couple of days—ever since Senator Cordell had called her into his office and in a few short sentences changed the course of her life forever. For the first time, she began to see the wisdom of being one’s own boss—something many of the people in her family excelled at, including her parents.
It was pretty hard to get your butt fired if you worked for yourself.
Nancy really couldn’t blame Senator Cordell for wanting to retire. God knew the atmosphere on the Hill had been going to hell these last few years. The Senator wasn’t getting any younger, and now that she thought about it, he had seemed a bit…well, tired lately.
She brought her attention back to the conversation—which seemed to be a polite, yet dogged round of Nancy-bashing. Standard operating procedure on Capitol Hill. That was one more thing Nancy was really tired of. She was tired of guarding not only herself from outside attacks but her responses from being honest. She was tired of not being Nancy.
Still, she had to be careful. She couldn’t tell her friends Senator Cordell was retiring. She’d given him her word she’d keep that a secret until he made the announcement himself. He was going to take a few weeks off, and then schedule a news conference in one month’s time.
So instead she said, “This wasn’t as impulsive, on my part, as you might think.” She softened that correction with a smile. These women meant well. They were, each of them, fairly high up in the hierarchy of their own particular Senator’s staff.
It seemed to be an unwritten rule that a woman couldn’t attain a position of power and respect on the Hill without sacrificing some of her compassion. Nancy had been lucky to land a job with one of the few remaining true gentlemen in the Senate. But she’d watched as others of her sisters hadn’t been so lucky. Some of them, like Sybil, had taken on a hard edge, as if every waking moment and every person encountered equaled just one more tussle with an enemy of unknown intentions.
Boy, I am being hypercritical today. Nancy had learned a long time ago that no one was perfect. If she wanted friends here in the district, then that meant understanding that they were the way they were because of where they were.
Washington, DC was farther away from Lusty than just the miles between the two places.
Appearances and slightly witchy comments aside, these women had been friends to her almost from the beginning—well, except for Rhonda, who was the newest addition to their little group.
“I know I shouldn’t mention this”—Rhonda leaned forward, and lowered her voice—“since this suggestion could fall under the heading of shooting myself in the foot. But I would have thought that you’d want to hang around town for a while, at least. Now that there’d be no more conflict of interest, you could give one of those hot lawyer studs who work for Darnell Associates a bit of a tumble.”
“Hell, the way they’ve both been flirting, if I were you, I’d take them both on,” Sybil said.
“At the same time?” Brenda sounded positively aghast at the idea.
“Hey, if you haven’t tried it…” Sybil let her words trail off.
Nancy reached for her beverage so she could hide her smirk in her glass of cola. Sybil had meant to shock her with that suggestion. If only she knew.
And that was yet another reason why going home suddenly felt so totally right. She’d been away from her family, and Lusty, for far too long. It would be good to be back where she could let her hair down, where she could sigh and let herself think of what might have been with those two gorgeous men, and not worry about letting a comment slip about wishing she could have tried them both on, too. And yes, at the same time.
In response to her friend’s suggestion, she waived her hand, and in so doing wished she could dismiss those two lawyers from her mind just as easily. “They were only flirting with me because I was the legislative assistant to Senator Cordell. Trust me. It wasn’t me they were interested in so much as bringing their flavor of the month cause to the Senator’s attention.”
One thing Nancy had learned in her years away from home. Men might say they preferred a woman with curves, one who also had a bright mind and a quick wit. But in the end, and in her experience, they all really wanted skinny, perfectly painted centerfolds with big boobs and small brains on their arms, and in their beds.
Nancy forced those two Lotharios from her mind and focused, instead, on herself, on her plans, and on what came next.
She’d given her Grand Plan to Change the World her very best shot. But after so many years of walking the halls of the US Capitol, of vacations deferred and family weddings missed—she still felt guilty as hell about that latest one, which had been her own brothers’—it was time for her to try something new.
On Wednesday, after that meeting with the Senator, she’d gone home to her apartment early and cried her eyes out with the realization that her job would be done in just two days’ time. Then, as she sat in the lee of her emotional storm, a quiet voice had surged to the front of her mind with an amazing idea.
Why not go home and do what she wanted to do—not what she thought would be useful or important to the world at large, or what would make a difference for posterity.
Why didn’t she go home and do something just for her?
“Well, do me a favor, hon. If you see those two hunks this afternoon on your way out, let them know that I’m…definitely interested.”
Nancy smiled even as she swore inwardly. She had the sense that the thrice divorced, forty-one-year-old Sybil would chew those two handsome devils up and spit them out.
“Sure, I can do that.” I can tell them you’re interested in all sorts of things. But will I tell them you’re interested in getting it on with them? Not just no, but hell, no.
Nancy didn’t let herself think too deeply about why it was she’d refused to say yes to any of the suggestions Eli Barton and Jeremiah Winthrop had made to her over the last few years, and yet refused to consider seeing them with anyone else.
You won’t be seeing them at all. You’re going home.
Yes, she was going home, and now that she’d fully embraced the idea, she was eager to get started. They lingered over dessert and coffee—well, coffee for her, wine and dessert for everyone else—long enough. Nancy wanted to move.
Traveling at a hundred miles an hour as usual. That’s why they call me Hurricane Nancy. She’d never really minded the moniker, because it had fit her to a tee.
She sighed, and then sat back in her chair. Her friends must have realized that it was time to leave, too.
Since this lunch had been the treat of Nancy’s soon-to-be former boss, the ladies all just left a healthy tip for the staff.
Once out on the sidewalk, she donned her sunglasses in deference to the bright sunlight. She’d had errands to run before she
’d met her friends here for lunch. Knowing herself well, understanding she’d want to walk for a while once lunch was done, she’d parked several blocks away. Now, as they murmured about their afternoon agendas, she didn’t tell them that she was, in fact, not going back to work. She’d already cleaned out her office.
Another sad fact, that after seven years on the job, everything of a personal nature she’d had in her office fit in one medium cardboard box that was now in the trunk of her car.
“We should get some pictures!” Rhonda whipped out her cell phone, and motioned for them to pose together.
Brenda and Sybil flanked her, their arms around her, their faces turned toward the lens with smiles plastered on their faces.
Then, of course, she had to smile for each of the others who wanted to enshrine the moment for posterity, and hand her own cell phone over so she could have some pictures, too.
Rhonda persuaded a woman she didn’t even know coming out of the restaurant to snap a picture with all four of them clustered together—four times, one on each woman’s phone.
And then it was over. Her friends suddenly realized they were going to be late and rushed off to where Sybil had parked her car.
Nancy had left hers not far from the Mall. As she headed toward it, her eyes took in the familiar landmarks, all the sights, natural and man-made, that she’d grown so used to seeing over the last seven years.
She hadn’t felt particularly motivated to snap pictures of her friends a few minutes before. But gazing about, knowing that she was leaving early the next morning, had her digging out her cell phone once again. Nostalgia and a bit of sadness swamped her, as she began to take random pictures of the view as she walked.