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  Cherry Hill 16: Spies Don’t Fall In Love

  Genesis was a spy, and now she is trying to live a normal life and put the past behind her.

  She doesn't trust easily, and surely isn't ready to fall in love like most of her new friends are doing.

  She's fine with that and used to being alone.

  So when she meets four soldiers who make her feel things she never felt before, she's pretty resistant but willing to have some fun.

  With no strings attached, it makes for some hot and heavy encounters, and she's game. But the more time they spend together, the more they want from her and she wants, too. Being in a ménage changes her perspective on life and love, and she's willing to let down that guard and let them in. But her secret past must remain just that, a secret. So when their lives are in jeopardy while on a mission, she uses her connections to save them and it costs her everything.

  In saving her men it makes her become a bargaining tool as she is sold to the man who once held her captive for information on terrorist leaders to help with an election. As she suffers the wrath of her greatest enemy, her lovers rummage through the information thinking the worst, until the true revelation of her disappearance is exposed. Now her soldiers must rescue her before it's too late.

  Genres: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Romantic Suspense

  Length: 38,105

  CHERRY HILL 16:

  SPIES DON'T FALL IN LOVE

  Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  Cherry Hill 16: Spies Don't Fall In Love

  Copyright © 2019 by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  ISBN: 978-1-64243-889-5

  First Publication: July 2019

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2019 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.

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

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  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  For all titles by Dixie Lynn Dwyer, please visit

  www.bookstrand.com/dixie-lynn-dwyer

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHERRY HILL 16:

  SPIES DON'T FALL IN LOVE

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  CHERRY HILL 16:

  SPIES DON'T FALL IN LOVE

  DIXIE LYNN DWYER

  Copyright © 2019

  Prologue

  “Oh shit, why are you calling me?” Genesis asked, holding her cell phone to her ear as she quickly headed out of the bakeshop. She was in town picking up some cookies and goodies for Emerson before visiting her.

  “Someone came into headquarters looking for you,” Seager told her. Her heart instantly began to pound in her chest. She left that life, that career two years ago. Two full years and it seemed like her disappearing had worked to get these scum bags off her ass.

  “Who specifically? What do you got, Seager?” she asked him, and kept looking around to be sure no one was within earshot.

  “A guy working under Kent Mogen’s command. He had no qualms about identifying himself.”

  “Please tell me that no one divulged my location? I’m out of that scene. For good, Seager.”

  “I know you are, but Mogen is persistent. You’re superb at what you do. One of the best agents the organization’s ever had. So good, that one phone call and you’d be instantly reinstated.”

  “Yeah, no thanks. Nearly dying by the hands of a terrorist asshole who imprisoned me for six months is definitely not the kind of job I’d like to partake in again. It’s amazing I’m alive, never mind not in counseling. Mogen should stick to politics. He was always better at that anyway. Now what’s the deal? You have to have more for me than just this guy snooping.”

  “Oh, you know it doesn’t end there. I’m surprised you haven’t gotten a call from Burbank yet,” Seager told her. She felt as if her heart fell to her gut. “What?” she asked, and her throat went dry. If her commander called, then something huge was happening and they could need her. She was done. Absolutely done.

  “Yeah, there’s some crazy shit going on and the unit is on the brink of chaos right now. They lost their inside informants. Three of them, and several soldiers, Genesis. Gable was one of the ones who was killed.”

  She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh God no. No,” she said as tears filled her eyes. Gable was a good friend. Hell, beyond a good friend. They’d shared some lonely nights together when their jobs crossed and they had the time to enjoy the company.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Who did it?”

  “No one is saying specifically who, but there are ties to Volchen and Kasmul.”

  “Are you freaking serious? What the hell is a Russian asshole doing communicating with a Middle Eastern terrorist?”

  “That’s the million dollar question, and it seems like maybe, my guess would be the informant found out and they were identified and taken out.”

  “Why would Burbank contact me? Why would someone working for that slimeball Kent Morgan come around dropping my name or try to contact me? I’m out. Been out and I’m not going back in. Send in some Special Forces guys and take them out.”

  “Yeah, it’s a little more complicated than that. Plus, they recently did send some men in, and out of six, only two made it out and word is they may not make it anyway. Their injuries are life-threatening.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  “They could be trying to feel you out, see if you would be willing to do intel. Maybe because they know how close you were to Gable.”

  “Typical, them trying to use emotions, bonded friendships to get a reaction. Well, I’m not biting. Seager, don’t let on to where I am or how to contact me. It’s taken a lot to put that life behind me, and to move on after what I went through.”

  “I’m giving you the heads up. You do know they can find you if they wanted to.”

  “There was a promise made, and I don’t expect to hear from Burbank or anyone else in the operation unit, unless that Middle Eastern asshole is still looking for me, and Burbank is ready to provide more protection.”

  “Or they might need your connections, and the Middle Eastern guy’s interest in you still to help bait him.”

  “That isn’t going to happen. I barely got out of there. I have no more connections. They were severed and destroyed the moment I escaped and disappeared. I need to go. Stay safe.”

  “You, as well. Just remember, I warned you, and I’ll always have your back,” he said, and ended the call.

  She put down her phone, shoved it into her purse, and took a few deep breaths to try and clear her head. There was no way the commander and the team wanted to
place her back in. No way when she barely got out alive. Debriefing took weeks, therapy, counseling, over a year. The last several months felt normal. Like she was finally set in her new life. Her life as an agent was over. She was twenty-eight, could pass for much younger, and that youthful look helped her snag the enemy’s attention and draw him in. She shivered just thinking about Kasmul. He should be dead, or at minimum, locked up and his entire business operation destroyed, but he wasn’t. He was alive and well, and all charges dropped. She barely got out of there and that prick got off scot-free. Why? Because he sold information to the US government. Information that brought down bigger terrorist assholes. The government’s promise to her, the organization’s promise, was that she was free to leave the agency, the special operations unit and have a new life, under a new name and in a safe location. They were never going to contact her again, or ask her to use her computer abilities, her connections, or her body again.

  She gulped and felt that ache in her core. She had played her role to the fullest. At first, she was a bit naïve. She thought that maybe the government had things all wrong. That maybe Kasmul was just the money behind some of the terrorist operations. That he provided a means of transporting weapons throughout the country by using his shipping containers and routes. A shrewd businessman getting a piece of the action to turn the other way. That had been the initial evaluation, however, once she was undercover, on the inside and getting to know Kasmul, she realized he had a heavier role in operations and was definitely part of the regime.

  He was a handsome man, charismatic in so many ways, and egotistical, too. She kept her distance romantically from him for as long as she could. Her services were importing and exporting, her way into his world, and into the corridor of elaborate gatherings, celebrations and networking of a different kind. She gained insight into their world, made connections, negotiated informants, and ultimately gained Kasmul’s full attention. When her government decided it was time to strike, she was caught in the crossfire, snagged by Kasmul’s men, which then identified six other individuals that the U.S. government didn’t have on their radar before. A complete mess, and she was left behind. Left as a prisoner to Kasmul as he realized she had played some part, some role in the infiltration of his friends’ businesses. It was a war zone for weeks. Military operations underway, soldiers being killed, and the news probably never made it to U.S. soil. No, in that life, in that position, you were expendable. When you died, no one knew a thing. When you needed rescuing, you were left to fend for yourself. If you lived, survived, it was by your own means. She did that. She survived, and it cost her big time.

  She looked toward the park and around the town of Cherry Hill. A sanctuary, apart from the haunting memories of the past life she led. The lover, the possession of a terrorist like Kasmul, scarred her body for life. She was not free to leave, but only to succumb to his command, or die by the knife he held to her throat. By the threats he made to her life, to those she knew were still somewhere close by, and she had hoped were waiting to save her. That rescue operation took months. Nearly six, and a part of her died back there. But her true identity, a spy, an undercover operative, a U.S. military undercover soldier was never exposed.

  She clenched her teeth. Burbank knew that. Kent Morgan knew that, too. They were so willing to set her up with a shit load of money, a new identity, and now she knew why. To keep her in their back pocket in case they needed her abilities, her connections again. Two years had passed. Two years of pretending to be someone she wasn’t. A new person with a new life. She was Genesis Parker, waitress, twenty-something-year-old who was living life single, free, and getting by on her own. She avoided relationships, confrontations, and anything in between that could threaten to reveal her true identity. She thought about that night a few weeks ago when Emerson’s ex-boyfriend had confronted her at that bar. It had taken a lot of self-control to not do more. It all worked out, and she couldn’t reveal her martial arts and military capabilities. At least not fully.

  She closed her eyes and exhaled, then got pissed off as Kasmul popped into her head. He was a dangerous man. A manipulative, deceiving, wealthy businessman, who was also capable of extreme violence and deception. He gave the U.S. government some useful information to make them dismiss what he had done to her. What he had done to assist those terrorists, and he would do it again. Everything was a game to him, including life itself. The government didn’t care though. Her body was a weapon, a means of weakening Kasmul’s resolve to not cooperate. She suffered his wrath in times of anger and when he was pushed into a corner by men who were supposed to save her from harm, but instead used her as a negotiating tool. She was working every angle. Using her resources, and a few very deeply imbedded agents to help plan her escape. She did what she had to do to make Kasmul give her space. When she got her chance, she took it.

  She forced the morbid thoughts out of her head and focused back on her life now. Of the woman she was, the scars she bared and carried with her. She didn’t need to think about these things any longer. This was her new life, and the past was exactly that. The past.

  * * * *

  “Take some time with your team and regroup,” Stone told Zedock over the satellite phone.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Six men were lost, the other two are going to die. That’s eight special operations men killed out there, and you want us to go on a vacation?” Zedock yelled into the radio.

  “Yeah, I want you to regroup while I work with the proper channels to get new intel and make some plans. It’s going to take time. This was one hell of a fuck up and the next operation needs to be as foolproof as it can be.”

  “We’re ready to go in. We can take that asshole and the entire operation out.”

  “Oh yeah? Gable and the guys were pretty fucking sure about the operation too and look what happened to them. Besides that, Zedock, we need to get names and locations of those other cells. No one was able to retrieve that information, and that is our government’s top priority. Not revenge for killing eight American soldiers. That will come later. Be patient. Go see Louis, Vought, Worin, and Hunt. They have plenty of room on their ranch. It could be some time before the plan comes to fruition. Plus, what info I was given, there may be an agent nearby and so it will make communications easier for you guys if and when that time comes.”

  “So we sit around and soften up, get our heads out of the game? No way, Stone. Send us on something else.”

  “No can do. I want you all well rested and your heads straight. Because when I call you to go in, it’s going to be dangerous. I won’t do it unless the information comes from the highest sources and is confirmed and backed accordingly.”

  “Fuck,” Zedock said, and exhaled.

  “Do it. That’s an order,” Stone commanded, and ended the call.

  Zedock looked at his team, his brothers in arms. “Well, this fucking sucks. To feel this antsy, to want to go in and fucking slit those fuckers’ throats, but instead we go visit our friends?” Freeman stated in annoyance.

  They were all dirty and a bit battered. Too far away from the situation to even try and pretend they got lost and went the wrong way. It would be suicide to go in there at this point. Denzel ran his fingers through his hair.

  “You think they actually will organize a plan of attack? Another way to infiltrate these terrorist assholes?” Denzel asked Zedock.

  “I don’t fucking know. It’s always hard to read Stone’s tone over the phone. I don’t think he would pretend any promises though. We were all pretty close. All part of this specialized unit,” Zedock told him.

  “I fucking hope we get that revenge. God knows we’ve done some crazy off the wall shit over the years. This situation though, it doesn’t sit right with me. The double-crossing, the way the government, our government, is so willing to forget about eight soldiers’ lives and others, just to gain some information. I’m getting tired of this shit. Of all of it,” Mills added, and the team mumbled in agreement.

  “Well
, we got our orders. I’ll get in touch with Louis and them. They only got into town a couple of days ago. I’ll make sure we aren’t in their way,” Zedock said.

  “They retired. They’re all finally out after bringing back Worin and Hunt,” Freeman said.

  “We all thought Worin and Hunt were dead. It’s amazing they survived what they did. Their team is together and retiring together. One day that will be us, too.”

  “Unless we get fucking killed with one of these fuck-ups,” Mills said.

  “We never worried about getting killed before, so why would we now? These are our lives, so unless you all decide you want to throw in the towel and not bring justice to Gable and the other soldiers’ families, then we need to suck up those thoughts and prepare for that revenge. It will come, and once that mission is over, we’ll decide what’s next for us,” Zedock said, and they all agreed.

  * * * *

  Sheriff Kane McCabe smiled as Athena hugged her brother Louis’s arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. She was so happy that her brothers Louis and Voight, as well as Worin and Hunt, their best friends and part of their team, were retiring in Cherry Hill. They had purchased a parcel of land that had multiple houses on it and one huge one that could accommodate twelve. It was set up as a ranch and horse stables, with accommodations for ranch hands and helpers quarters. Their intention was to bring in some of their fellow soldiers who were retiring or were between missions.

  “So any questions about the town?” Athena asked as Louis squinted and then seemed to be staring at something behind the sheriff. One glance behind him, and Kane saw Faith.

  Athena gave a wave to Faith and Faith looked back and waved, but then looked at Louis who immediately turned away. Kane found it pretty interesting. Louis and Voight only got into town a few days ago, and it seemed Faith snagged their attention. He kept his observations to himself as Louis got a phone call.