Forever Notorious Read online

  Nemi rolled on the floor with her brother, owned by Reagan Davies Ashton and her husband, Carter Ashton. Hooch, the biggest, ugliest dog Abby had ever seen, was carefully guarding Carter’s nephew, little Ash. Carter’s sister, Sienna, looked proudly on as her son shook a horse rattle as her dog, Hooch, protected him. His large jowls shimmered with drool, but with the reflection from the Christmas tree lights, it looked as if Hooch had eaten Christmas.

  “We’re thinking of adopting,” Sydney Davies McKnight said quietly to the group Abby was standing with. Abby was the only one not related to Sydney in the little group. Layne, Piper, Reagan, and Riley, who completed the group, were all Davies cousins and were all now married. Abby was the odd one out of her closest friends.

  Riley reached over and took her cousin’s hands. “We’ve been trying too, but it turned out I had fibroids. They’re like these little tumors on my uterus. I had them removed last week and my doctor believes we won’t have any more trouble now. Have you had that looked at?”

  Sydney nodded. “It’s not me. Deacon is trying a treatment so we’ll see. But we put our name in with the coordinator at The Daughters of Elizabeth. She helps anyone who has been rescued and turns out to be pregnant, and help place the baby for adoption if they choose that route.”

  Abby listened as Sydney talked about some of the pregnant women who had come to them for help. The Daughters of Elizabeth was a foundation Sydney and Deacon started to help victims of sex trafficking. In fact, Abby was going to their New Year’s Eve fundraiser at Sydney’s great-grandmother’s family estate outside of Atlanta.

  Mila laughed at something her mother-in-law said, and Sydney’s smile tightened. “Everyone thinks getting pregnant is easy, but just look at what the stress of trying to produce a royal heir did for Mila. Thank goodness that stress is now gone and she and Zain can enjoy their pregnancy and child.”

  “It’ll happen, Sydney, I know it,” Layne said, reaching out for her cousin and wrapping her in a hug.

  Sydney waved her hand in front of her face. “Let’s change the subject.” She looked over at Abby and smirked. “Let’s all live through Abby’s single-in-the-city life.”

  “Me?” Abby said slightly panicked. These were her best friends, but she didn’t talk about her personal life with anyone.

  “Someone has been keeping a secret,” Sydney teased.

  How had she learned about the CIA?

  “What secret?” Reagan and her twin, Riley, asked together.

  “Someone has been seen out and about in DC with a man. And not just any man.”

  Uh-oh.

  “You’re dating someone?” Layne asked a little too loudly. Abby saw her father’s head snap around.

  “Layne!” Piper hissed.

  Layne’s eyes went wide. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Gotcha!” she said loudly to Ahmed and then they all cracked up. Thank goodness they knew what it was like to have overprotective fathers.

  “Who is he?” the deep voice asked from behind her.

  “Dylan,” Piper said, rolling her eyes, “this is a girls’ conversation.”

  “So, we’re not allowed to talk to our friend and cousins?” Jackson asked, joining Dylan and the group of girls.

  Abby wanted to die now. Dylan and Jackson were lifelong friends and two of the sexiest men she’d ever known. And she had worked with some very sexy men. They were also like family. But then again, not like family. It certainly hadn’t felt like family when they went skinny-dipping in high school together with a group of friends.

  “I’m not dating anyone,” Abby swore.

  “Okay, friends with benefits. Nice,” Layne said, raising her hand for a high five. Abby shook her head and Layne pouted and dropped her hand. “Then what is it?”

  Sydney shrugged her shoulder. “I guess it wasn’t you at DC’s Winter Ball. You know, the ball with the who’s who of politics and power.”

  “Why would you think it was me?” Abby asked calmly. She’d learned how to stay calm under interrogation from her family, and she was using it all as every set of eyes on her didn’t believe a word she was saying. And they probably shouldn’t, because she had been at that ball . . . with a man.

  “Just saw a picture of a woman in one of my dresses. A dress I had given you, and I thought it looked like you. Guess I was wrong.” Sydney didn’t push it anymore and Abby had never been so grateful as when Aniyah and her new fiancé, DeAndre, strode into the room.

  “Merry Christmas!”

  “Holy crap,” Dylan muttered.

  “She’s Christmas,” Jackson said, shaking his head. “DeAndre is a lucky man.”

  He was. Aniyah was proof that good things did come in small packages. She was five-foot-nothing but was wearing six-inch, bright red velvet, and thigh high boots with white feather trim at the top. Aniyah’s warm brown skin set off the white ostrich feather mini-dress she was wearing. Her black hair was cut short in the back, but long in the front, and her bangs were dyed the same red as her boots. The red bangs were pinned back with a mistletoe clip. Then there was the cleavage. What Aniyah lacked in height, she made up for in boobs. She was a rollercoaster of curves that reminded you of old time pin-up girls. And somehow Aniyah made everything she wore look classic and elegant. She was also the sweetest person with the biggest heart. Well, until you pissed her off. Then you might want to duck for cover. And Abby should know. It had taken her over ten lessons to teach Aniyah how to shoot someone in the shin as opposed to the toe.

  Aniyah took in the room. There was talk of babies, of weddings, and once again Abby felt very much the outsider. “I wonder if you and I should go hang with Ariana and Cassidy,” Greer Parker muttered. Jackson was her older brother as well as Ryan, who was happily married to Sienna with baby Ash in his arms.

  “We’re the only women left standing,” Abby sighed. She felt old. Not that Ariana and Greer weren’t grown up, but they’d always been the little sisters of her friends. They were both within a year or so of Kale, and he certainly wasn’t ready for marriage or even grown up in Abby’s mind. And Cassidy was even younger, being in her early twenties. Cassidy was all about finishing school and getting a job. Ariana was all about exploring her freedom and independence now that she had graduated and was taking her time settling down in the family business of being a princess and diplomat.

  “How are things going with the FBI?” Abby asked Greer.

  “It’s not just the FBI.”

  Abby knew. Every law enforcement and government agency wanted Greer. She was a better sniper than anyone Abby knew. She’d been asked about recruiting Greer to the CIA but had refused. Not that she didn’t want Greer in the CIA but because it would have made things a little awkward when everyone thought Abby was someone else. But Greer was FBI, through and through. Her father, Cole Parker, was retired from the Bureau. Her brother, Ryan, was the agent in charge of the FBI’s Lexington office. Her other brother, Jackson, was an FBI hostage rescuer. But it was her mother, Paige Davies Parker, who had taught her to shoot.

  “The military wants to test me out too, and I guess someone from the FBI told a buddy who is on the New York City SWAT team, and now they’ve been calling,” Greer told her. “It’s strange. I went to school for history and political science, yet all of my job offers are because I can kill someone. I don’t know how I feel about that.”

  “It’s not because you can kill someone, it’s because you can save someone. Or in some cases, many people,” Abby said kindly. She knew what a good person Greer was, but she also knew there was a big difference between shooting a target and a person. Only Greer would be able to know if she could handle the mental ramifications of taking a life, no matter how wicked the soul.

  “Thanks for that.” Greer looked across the room and blushed. “Oh my gosh. Tell me the new firemen aren’t the hottest things you’ve seen. I’m going to have Colton introduce me.”

  Abby watched as Greer made a beeline for her cousin and the wide-shouldered firemen talking to him. Colton was
in charge of the soon-to-be Keeneston Fire Department. He and a few men were working for FEMA in case of any federal emergencies. Next to them, family friends Trey and Taylor Everett’s son, Knox, who was having a winning year as a college quarterback, were talking to Cassidy. Knox’s slightly older brother and up-and-coming Nashville singer, Holt, decided to start singing Christmas songs to draw Cassidy’s attention from his brother.

  “Now that will be trouble,” Sophie whispered as she came to stand next to Abby. Out of all her friends, Layne and Sophie understood her the most. But now Sophie was married to Nash, who was security for the Ali Rahman family, and expecting their first child. “What’s with you and that guy in DC?”

  “What guy?”

  “You might not want to tell the rest of them, but I know exactly who that is in the picture with you.”

  “Wasn’t me,” Abby said as she watched Cassidy’s head turning as if she were watching a tennis match between Knox and Holt.

  “I had Nash run facial recognition because I knew you’d deny it.”

  Damn. Abby just shrugged. Damn uppity charity balls. She’d never have her photo in the paper if she’d never attended.

  “I always thought you had a thing for Jackson or Dylan . . . or both.”

  “You know what happened with that.”

  Sophie shrugged. “I understand what you told me, but I also know better than to assume that’s the full story.”

  Abby’s phone buzzed, and it wasn’t her personal line. Thank God. “I have to take this. I’ll be right back.”

  4

  “Merry Christmas, Abby.”

  “Merry Christmas, Birch. Doesn’t your wife have you busy today?”

  “She does. She gave me the best present today,” the president told her.

  “I really don’t need to know the specifics of your sex life.”

  Birch laughed as Abby closed the door to the library. “Close. I’m going to be a father.”

  “It must be in the air. Zain Ali Rahman got the same gift.”

  “That’s wonderful. I really like working with him. Too bad I can’t tell him you and I are friends.”

  “Is that what we are?” Abby asked sweetly. They were. It had started off solely as a boss-employee relationship, but Birch had a military background and knew how to shoot the shit with her, which had eventually turned into talks about family and how she was doing personally after each mission.

  “You’re the best friend I don’t have.”

  “Ha-ha,” Abby said with a real smile. Their whole relationship was one of deniability, but it was a good one. “So, what do you need or were you really calling just to say hi.”

  “Yes and no. I need you in my office December thirtieth.”

  “I’m on vacation. I have my friend’s fundraiser on the thirty-first.”

  “I know, and you’ll still be able to attend. I just need you to be the countess instead of yourself. I’ll give you more details when I see you.”

  Abby blinked. Her heart pounded, and for the first time she felt fear. “But, that’s merging my personal and private lives.”

  “I know, but we have to take the risk. How many of your friends will be there?” Birch asked.

  “Sydney and Deacon as the host. Her parents, Marshall and Katelyn. Her brother, Wyatt. My parents. And I think her cousin Piper and her new husband, Aiden Creed. And family friends Mallory and Reed Westin.”

  “That’s not too many,” Birch said, and Abby could practically see him shrug. “If anyone can pull it off, it’s you. I’ll see you in a couple days. Merry Christmas.”

  “But,” Abby started to say but was met with a dead line. Ugh. The benefits of being president. You could hang up on people whenever you wanted, and they still had to do what you told them.

  When Abby made it back to the party, Aniyah was trying to convince Veronica, Zain’s executive assistant/wonder woman, to be her wedding planner. The Rose sisters, three ancient triplets who ran the town of Keeneston, were holding court. Their equally ancient husbands were enjoying some of Mo’s bourbon. The couples were in groups, the single cousins were joking, and Abby had never felt so alone. They were her friends and her family, but she wasn’t really part of them. Just like she wasn’t really part of anyone’s life. She lived her life in the shadows doing things she’d never be able to talk about.

  She wouldn’t have a husband, a child, or her own happily ever after. Abby knew that and accepted that most likely she would die in enemy territory and no one, not even her parents, would know where she was or what happened. She loved her life, though. It was the life she chose. Sometimes she just missed all she had given up to achieve it.

  “Hey,” Cy Davies said, bringing her a cup of eggnog. “Anything you want to talk about?”

  Abby smiled at the man who was like an uncle to her. He had been a spy. If anyone knew what she was going through, it would be Cy. But then he’d met his wife, Gemma, and never looked back. “Not really. What’s going on with you? Ready to be a grandfather?”

  Cy gave her a hard look but then smiled. “My daughters don’t have sex, therefore, I will never have a grandchild until my boys marry.”

  “Isn’t that sexist?”

  Cy shrugged. “I’m not sexist. My girls can outmaneuver, outshoot, and outfight most men. But they’re still my little girls. End of discussion.”

  Abby chuckled. Her father was the same way, but she liked to tease them all the same.

  “If you ever need someone who understands—”

  “Personal security?” Abby finished for him. “Yeah, Aiden is right over there,” she said, pointing to the former British SAS and security expert, Aiden Creed. The only real bodyguard in the room.

  “Hardy har-har,” Cy joked, but he didn’t push it. He knew she could never say what she did. They all assumed she did something dangerous, but Keeneston knew better than to pry. They surmised and took bets on almost everything except something that could put a person’s life at risk. They were the most loyal people around and Abby was so grateful to be a part of this community. Except now she felt on the outside looking in.

  “I’m here if you need me. We all are.”

  As Abby watched Cy walk away, she took a deep breath. It was time to put on a smile and forget about work for a couple days. She wanted to enjoy every minute she had with her family.

  Abby was sweating even though the room was nice and cool. She held her hands close to her face as she gently bounced on the balls of her feet. She heard the yelling, but didn’t pay them any attention.

  “Come on,” she taunted.

  “No way,” Kale said, pulling off his gloves. “I don’t mind working out with Carter or Wyatt, but my own sister? No way. I’m the smart one for a reason.”

  “Don’t you want a chance to work out all your frustration?” Abby asked innocently.

  “Nope. See, you might not think I’m observant, but I am. I see Nash over there with an ice pack on his nose.”

  “Well, at least now I know how Layne beat me,” Nash complained from behind the ice pack. He was still bemoaning that Layne beat him when he’d challenged an injured Walker at some Davies family initiation thing. Miles might have taught his daughter well, but Abby had taught her better.

  “Will no one take on little old me?”

  “I will.”

  Abby turned to see Walker step into the boxing ring in the security facility on the farm. It was used not only by the Rahmi soldiers, but also by the Davies brothers, her father, and more recently, some of the Davies cousins and their newest members. Abby normally worked out in the gym in the basement of her parents’ house, but today she felt like a fight. Maybe it had to do with her leaving for DC later that night.

  Abby grinned as Kale strapped the gloves onto Walker and slid from the ring. Her body came to life as she sized up her opponent. Fists went flying and hits were taken. It was exactly what she needed. In the end they stopped of their own accord. There was no keeping score. They weren’t doing this to win but
because they enjoyed it and they wanted to get better. Abby’s shoulder stung like the devil from a hit she had taken, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

  “Good job, Abby,” Walker said, holding out his gloved hand. They tapped gloves and he swiped at a drop of blood that dripped down the side of his chin from a split lip she’d given him.

  “Thanks for not taking it easy on me.” Abby was used to being underestimated by the males she fought.

  “I know that look well enough to know when a person needs a good fight. Hope it helped.”

  “It did. I have to go get cleaned up. I’ll be sure to see y’all the next time I’m in town.”

  She was met with a chorus of “Bye, Abby” as she exited the gym and headed for the locker room.

  * * *

  It seemed like minutes later she was sitting in the president’s office in the private residence of the White House. Her shoulder still throbbed from Walker’s hit even though it had been several hours. She’d made it to DC, dropped her things at her house, and then snuck into the White House via Humphrey’s car complete with wig and sunglasses.

  Abby looked around the office. This was her first time coming to the White House. Most of the time they met at military bases or safe houses. Not that they had met in person a lot. Just three times actually. But it felt like more because of the friendship they’d developed over the phone.

  “Do you know what this is about?” Abby asked Humphrey, who was sitting in the back of the office on a worn leather couch.

  “Yup.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Nope.” Humphrey had his head buried in a book and didn’t bother to look up even when the door opened.

  Abby stood as Birch walked in, wearing jeans and an Army T-shirt. His hair was ruffled as if he’d run his hand through it, but it didn’t lessen the way he commanded power. He might be Birch to her, but every inch screamed President Stratton.

  Behind him was a man Abby knew well. She has always admired his sophisticated sexiness. He was tall, standing six feet two. His shoulders were wide but his body tapered into a narrow waist. His black hair was true black, not just dark brown like hers. It was neatly trimmed and brushed back from his clean-shaven face. Dark gray eyes scanned the room and landed on her. He smiled slowly and under the expensive cashmere black sweater he wore, Abby saw his muscles bunch as he smoothly made his way toward her. This man was definitely not your average CEO.