by Kendall Ryan
Chapter Three
Nolan
I hadn’t been here in years, and I was pretty sure I hadn’t brought a woman up here since my senior year of high school. Even though it was the type of place that would be sure to get a woman in the mood. I told myself I just didn’t want to wake Daniella, but part of me wondered if maybe I wanted Lacey all to myself. That, and I knew she’d be the type of woman to want to take things slow. This was my attempt at making tonight count as two dates.
Back then, if my parents had caught me sneaking a girl into my bedroom, it would have meant I was benched from football and given enough extra chores on the ranch to occupy all my free time. Which was why I’d lost my virginity here when I was seventeen. The place held some sentimental value. I was an only child, and my parent’s expectations were sky high. Probably how I ended up in the military. Discipline and hard work were bred into me from a young age.
“Where are we going?” Lacey’s small hand tightened around mine as she trotted along behind me in the moonlight.
“Not much further.”
I remembered each step like it was yesterday. The huge boulders resting against the side of the hill created a rocky cliff, the valley down below quiet and still. Far in the distance, lights twinkled in the darkness.
“Oh wow.” Lacey stopped behind me. “Is that downtown?”
I nodded. It was a pretty view. The peaceful stillness of the country contrasted sharply with the city lights, many miles away.
“After I retired from the military, this is where I came some sleepless nights. Just to think. And sit in the quiet,” I told her. It was also where I came when I was feeling sorry for myself, and to mourn everything I’d lost. But most of that was behind me now.
“Would you like to sit?” I motioned to the large outcrop that hung over the valley below.
“Sure.”
She took my hand again and I led her to the spot where the rock dipped down, creating the perfect ledge. The evening air was cool, as was the stone through our jeans, and Lacey nestled herself against my side. When I placed my arm around her small frame, she settled in beside me.
We talked about bands we liked, concerts we’d seen, and favorite movies without any awkward silences. It was fucking weird, actually. I hadn’t taken the time to just get to know a woman like this in a long time. Typically, if I left West’s with a woman, we were fucking within minutes. And within an hour, I was back home and in the shower. Alone.
I liked listening to Lacey talk. Her voice held no twang, despite her upbringing. It was sweet and soft and smoky. Intoxicating. I’d lost my accent in the military. Figured I couldn’t sound like the tough negotiator I wanted to be with a good-ole-boy accent.
“Do you travel much for work?” she asked, drawing me out of my thoughts.
“Not too much. A night or two occasionally is about the extent of it.”
She nodded as if that pleased her somehow. “So you haven’t dated anyone seriously . . . I mean, been monogamous in a long time?”
“Nope.”
“I see.”
She knew damn well there was a story there, but wasn’t going to press me for it right now. Good girl.
I knew I was emotionally crippled. I knew my limits, knew that all I could offer was physical exploration. Maybe friendship. Certainly nothing more. But with this woman, something felt different. She was warm and soft beside me, and she wanted to hear me talk about my background, my family. She was even curious about Daniella, but kept her questions fairly neutral.
“Thanks for bringing me out here. It’s beautiful, and it’s nice to get some fresh air.” She drew a big inhale. “Things were kind of rushed when I moved, and the only places I’ve seen have been the inside of my apartment and where I work.” She shifted beside me. “Haven’t even had a normal conversation in weeks.”
“Not running from the law, are you?” I asked, looking over at her in the moonlight.
Her gaze swung out toward the valley, and I took a moment to just watch her. The slope of her cheek. Her full, lush mouth. The slender column of her throat. She was stunning.
“Why, would that be a deal breaker for you?” She turned, smiling at me, but there was something sad in her eyes.
“We’ve all done some shit we’re not proud of.”
I looked out into the distance below. Her battle wounds might not be visible, but I sensed they were there, lurking under the surface just like mine.
I still didn’t have a handle on what was going on here, but temptation whispered to me over the rush of her heartbeat. It was crazy that even knowing it might not end well, I wanted her.
I left nothing to chance in my professional life; every possible scenario was accounted for. So why did I have the feeling my personal life was about to go sideways?
For now, I let myself soak in the silence. Her head rested on my shoulder, and we listened to the wind rustle the tall grasses below.
Chapter Four
Nolan
I set up the conference room’s projector as the rest of Redstone’s employees filed in. All fourteen of them were veterans, about half former Special Operations. I felt at home in the testosterone-packed atmosphere, but sometimes I wished my job featured a little more eye candy and a little less machismo.
Not everyone had left their military rivalries behind. Cocky taunts and trash-talking were the norm. Mixing a roomful of former SEALs, retired police officers, and ex-Delta Force was delicate enough, but when you added in the guys who bled the mantra once a Marine, always a Marine, forget about it.
I didn’t understand why people hung on to their old identities, anyway. As far as I was concerned, I’d be happy if I never heard another hooyah! ever again. And Jerry Barton, my current boss and former SEAL team leader, had evidently felt the same way. Commander Barton had walked away from a promising officer career to start his own private security firm as a civilian.
I might have been sitting in a conference room, but as I waited for the meeting to begin, my mind wandered right back to that evening with Lacey. The curious way she watched me, her eyes wide with wonder and attraction. The luscious curves hidden under her modest clothing that I couldn’t wait to rip away. The sadness hidden in her eyes when she spoke of her background. It made me want to gather her up and fix whatever had put that frown on her face.
Deep down, I knew I should leave her alone. She was a nice girl. Sweet. Unspoiled. But I had no intention of walking away. Not because I lacked discipline, but because it would be way too much fun to have her. Under me. On top of me. And these days, my life was all about taking what I wanted, when I wanted it. I’d learned the hard way that you never knew when you might draw your last breath.
The screen flickered on and filled with Barton’s stern, weathered face, snapping me out of my erotic daydream. He’d been leading the weekly company meetings by video chat, since he was busy in DC for the rest of the quarter. All chatter in the room died instantly. Their founder was roughly fifty-five years old, but the only thing that gave it away was his salt-and-pepper hair; he was fitter and trimmer than most men half his age, the picture of discipline.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Barton announced. “I trust you’ve all reviewed my e-mail about this week’s available contracts.”
Everyone nodded. Nobody on earth had balls big enough to ignore one of Barton’s dictates.
“I’ll be happy to coordinate the team’s preferences and e-mail them back to you later this morning,” Greyson offered.
Many of the jobs listed had been on the table before. Guarding the same corporate bigwigs, helping law enforcement conduct advanced intelligence training, consulting with state agencies on counter-terrorism techniques. Repeat business from faithful customers.
Barton lifted his chin to the side. “I’ll review and approve it later today. I have intel on something new that I’m not quite ready to share with the team.” His eyes cut over to mine and lingered there.
Interesting.
Barton ha
d an expert sense of which jobs matched best with which team members. But to keep everyone happy with their schedules, he always presented his opinions as suggestions rather than orders.
The room grew loud again as people discussed which contracts each man wanted to tackle. Real squabbles were rare, even for the choicest gigs; everyone had good manners and their own unique skill set, preferences, and schedules. There was always somebody who couldn’t work too far from home because his wife was pregnant, or needed to return in time for his nephew’s wedding, or whatever the hell.
I tuned out most of my coworkers’ chatter. I was still wrapping up my last assignment—a vulnerability assessment and risk mitigation for a major telecom company. And my bank account was plenty fat, so why drive myself nuts by taking on more work? Of course, I was curious about what Barton was holding so close to the vest, but he’d bring me in on it when he was ready.
After about twenty minutes of discussion, Barton interrupted. “All right, gentlemen, I get the picture. Keep yourselves safe this week, and I’ll be in touch. You’re all dismissed.” But while everyone was leaving, Barton called out a brusque, “Maxwell.”
I stopped in my tracks and faced the screen again.
“You did an excellent job these last two weeks. You’re making quite a name for yourself among the FBI, specifically with Special Agent Donovan.” Barton inclined his head. “He didn’t ask me to pass on his comments, but I thought you’d like to know.”
“I couldn’t have done it without my teammates,” I replied. Such an answer was automatic. A military man always downplayed his contribution and never stole the spotlight. Plus, that assignment had been a cake walk compared to what I was used to. Just glorified babysitting.
“That may be true, Maxwell. But I recruited you for a reason. You were among my best and brightest, and so far, you’ve kept up the good work and haven’t let me down.”
Pride swelled in my chest. Before the ink had even dried on my discharge papers, Barton had personally asked me to come work for Redstone. It was a favor—and an honor—that I’d never forget.
“Thank you, sir.” I corrected the old reflex. “I mean, Mr. Barton.”
My boss’s bushy eyebrows lifted slightly. I couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed. “At ease, son. We’ve both been civilians for a long time now.”
I nodded. And I’m damn glad about that. Quitting the Navy was the best decision I’d ever made; joining Redstone was the second best.
Outside the firing range, I hadn’t shot my service weapon in nearly two years, and I didn’t miss the action one bit. Training police officers and escorting at-risk executives was a welcome reprieve from messy SEAL business. Not to mention working whenever the hell I wanted to work. That freedom was definitely one of my favorite parts.
But even if I hadn’t served under him, Jerry Barton wasn’t the kind of man you called by his first name. He commanded attention and respect as easily as breathing. Just looking into those steel-gray eyes made my back straighten—with a little fear as well as admiration.
“There’s something else.” He paused and looked away from the camera. “I have a special assignment for you, and it’s . . . personal to me.”
“Of course. Name it.”
“I will when the time is right. I’m still gathering a last bit of intel.”
I nodded. “Understood.”
I had no idea what kind of assignment could be personal to him. Maybe a vendetta against an old rival. Either way, he’d always been there for me, and so of course I’d help.
Seemingly satisfied with that, Barton ended the video call without saying good-bye. I turned off the projector and went back to my desk.
I was in for a long afternoon. While Redstone did provide physical security for important locations or at-risk VIPs, we outsourced whatever monitoring technology was involved—alarm systems, CCTV feeds, the works. I wasn’t the guy running wires under people’s desks. But I knew what needed to happen and who to call to coordinate it all. So today, I had phone calls to make and e-mails to follow up on from last week’s assignments.
I’d only been working for a few minutes when Greyson ambled by. “What’s up? We still on for the big game on Saturday?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, of course.” I turned away from my computer. “I was actually thinking of inviting someone.” Before he could ask, I added, “Yes, it’s a woman.”
Greyson’s mouth twitched. “Daniella working this weekend?”
I nodded.
“You should definitely invite her, then. I can come check her out . . . see what’s got you so interested.”
Oh, for Christ’s sake. I knew where Greyson was going with this. He wasn’t exactly subtle about his disapproval of my lifestyle. Maybe disapproval was the wrong word; it was closer to unease, or even worry.
“Sure, why the hell not,” I finally replied. “I’ll text her right now.” We had talked about catching a game sometime.
I pulled out my phone and typed a message: Longhorns vs. Sooners on Sat. 3 p.m. my place. You in?
Greyson looked over my shoulder. “Really, dude? You’re truly the master of romance.”
“Since when do I care about that?” I hit the Send button. “There. You get to meet Lacey this weekend. Now, fuck off and let me work.”
With a smile, Greyson waved his middle finger at me and left for his own desk.
I settled in to wrangling subcontractors again. But as I composed e-mails and made calls, my mind still lingered on my phone, waiting for Lacey’s reply.
Fortunately, I didn’t have long to wait before my phone dinged.
Lacey: I’d love to.
• • •
When I got home, Daniella was lying on the couch in casual clothes, long limbs sprawled out comfortably.
I squinted at the book in her hands. The cover featured a young woman floating in outer space with a tentacled monster.
“You’re reading that again?” I asked.
She let the book drop just enough to smile at me. “Yeah, why not? People keep interrupting me.”
“Sorry,” I said with a shrug. “You’re working this weekend, right? I invited Lacey over to watch the game on Saturday.”
“Duty calls. That should be fun, though.” Daniella started to raise her book again, then paused. “So she’s cool with our whole situation?”
“Yeah, I told her everything. Well, maybe not everything. But she got the gist of it.”
Judging by Lacey’s brief moment of shock on our first date, my love life was hard enough to wrap her head around without adding BDSM into the mix. And she didn’t need to know all of our private details right now, anyway. If the moment called for an explanation later, I’d give her the short version.
“She said she was fine with it as long as I didn’t expect any threesomes.”
“I’m sure that broke your slutty heart into a million pieces,” Daniella remarked dryly.
“Careful. You shouldn’t insult the guy who holds the whip around here.” I gave her a predatory grin.
She pretended to glare back, then laughed, and I chuckled too.
Daniella wasn’t acting nosy, even though she was probably curious about Lacey, and I was grateful for that. I knew she wouldn’t read too much into my words.
Unlike certain other friends. Damn Greyson . . .
I liked Greyson a lot; he was the only other ex-SEAL at Redstone. I’d stayed close with our former team—West, Shaw, and Ryder—but Grey and I still worked together every day, so I was more in tune with him than the others.
But even though we always steered clear of each other’s buried skeletons, his butting in about the women in my life could still get annoying. Greyson sometimes gave advice whether anyone wanted it or not, which made me feel like a fix-it project.
I started to untie my shoes, then paused, realizing I still needed to buy some food and liquor for that weekend’s game. “I’m going back out to stock up for Saturday. Want me to grab you anything?”
Daniella hummed, considering for a minute. “I don’t know . . . I’ll go with you and see what looks good. I haven’t had dinner yet.” She rolled off the couch and onto her feet, dropping her book on the coffee table. “Let me put on some shoes.”
At the liquor store, we grabbed our customary poison on autopilot—single-malt whiskey for me, wheat ale for Daniella—while debating what kind of beer Lacey might like. Eventually we splurged on a couple of seasonal variety packs.
Then we walked across the street to the supermarket, where we picked up Daniella’s favorite crappy sushi and the same huge frozen pizza we baked for every football game.
She pushed the shopping cart while I threw the items we liked inside. To onlookers, we probably seemed like the perfect picture of domestic bliss, just another happy couple grocery shopping together.
We had done all of this a thousand times before, and there was something comforting in the routine. It seemed like nothing could ever truly shake us up. My life with Daniella was next to perfect. Wasn’t it?
I ignored the gnawing feeling that something wasn’t quite right as Daniella and I made our way to the checkout conveyor.
Chapter Five
Lacey
Nolan’s house was pale brick with dark wooden beams cutting across the exterior to form a masculine arch over the front porch. It was all one story, but appeared roomy nonetheless.
I trotted up the steps at five minutes to three carrying a big platter of smoked brisket, guacamole, and queso, with a bag of tortilla chips tucked under my arm. Nolan had insisted that I didn’t need to bring anything, but my Southern hospitality demanded that I not show up empty-handed. And I might have been putting in a little extra effort because I figured I might meet Daniella today.
I was curious about this “other woman” in Nolan’s life . . . his side piece. Until I realized that she got there first, and so I was actually the side piece.
With a strange feeling dancing in my stomach, I hesitated at his door. Shit. What am I doing here?
Nothing in my life could have prepared me for this moment. Yet here I was, standing at his front door, debating whether to knock.
