Forever Notorious: Forever Bluegrass #11

by Kathleen Brooks

  “I didn’t think they just gave—” Addison stopped mid-sentence. “Oh, duh. I get it.”

  “What?” Zinnia asked as everyone looked between Addison and Dylan.

  “He’s being vague,” Addison said. “We don’t know which branch he works for, yet she’s some super agent and needs protection. It’s obvious. He’s some kind of super soldier, and super soldiers can’t tell anyone they’re super soldiers.”

  The café was quiet for a moment. “So, the bullet sounds I hear when I call you every now and then aren’t a video game?” his mother asked slowly as if she didn’t want to know the answer. Dylan grimaced. The last time she’d called was when his sister, Piper, needed a bodyguard. He’d been in a gunfight as they took over a terrorist-held hospital where his team rescued ten Americans and twenty-three foreign citizens who were wounded and held hostage. “What the heck are you doing answering your phone in a gunfight?” his mother practically yelled.

  “It’s a secure phone and you never call unless it’s an emergency. Otherwise you text,” Dylan defended.

  “That is so hot. Answering when his mama calls,” Aniyah whispered, but it wasn’t really a whisper. Everyone heard it, including her fiancé, DeAndre Drews. After recently becoming engaged, Aniyah was growing her normally short-in-the-back, chin-length-in-front black hair out. Her smooth, warm brown skin sparkled with some kind of gold powder on her eyelids, and she wore a V-neck, long-sleeved T-shirt that showed off her ample cleavage and said “Big is Beautiful” with a picture of a massive diamond ring under it.

  “I’ll always answer your call, baby,” DeAndre promised as he kissed his fiancée on the cheek. DeAndre was built like a boxer. His shoulders filled out the Kentucky state trooper uniform and would make someone think twice about starting a fight. The two were complete opposites, but they worked. Aniyah was a small and curvaceous package with attitude and a heart of gold and the worst shot Dylan had ever seen. DeAndre was calm, quiet, and strong with a mind that could connect dots even Dylan couldn’t see, yet he was just as kind-hearted and compassionate as Aniyah.

  “I love you, Sugarbear,” Aniyah cooed before jumping up. “Abby! You have to come to my girls’ night. We’re having a planning party.”

  “For the wedding?” Abby asked.

  “Eh, that too, but mostly for the bachelorette party. I’m thinking animal theme.”

  “Dear god,” Dylan heard Jackson mutter, and he had to purse his lips to keep from laughing out loud.

  “Sure. I’d love to.”

  “Um, Abby,” Dylan whispered. “Remember, where you go, I go.”

  Abby’s lips curved into a sensual smile that had blood rushing away from his brain. “I know,” she said and then laughed. It was such a sexy sound that it took a moment for Dylan to realize what she’d said. Oh, this would require payback and Dylan couldn’t wait to rise to the challenge.

  11

  Abby walked into her old room at her parents’ house. When she’d left for college, her mother had kept everything but moved it all into a large armoire in order to turn the space into more of a guest room. It seemed the same, yet slightly generic. Kind of like Abby herself. On the outside she was a normal, average woman. On the inside she was an armoire full of all the personal things she had to keep people from seeing.

  “Jackson and I will be right next door if you need us. Lucas and Talon are downstairs,” Dylan said from where he stood in the doorway.

  “Thank you,” Abby said as she tried not to stare. Dylan looked dark and dangerous, and to her there was nothing hotter. Especially when she knew under that searing stare and muscled chest was a heart so big, he’d do anything to help someone in need.

  Abby walked across the room toward her armoire. Her clothes and equipment had gone back to Washington, DC, with Sebastian’s private plane. She opened the armoire and jumped back as clothes and stuffed animals from her youth spilled out with pictures, notebooks, and happy memories.

  “Good night, Abby,” she heard Dylan say quietly from the door. She turned and looked at him as he turned away from her, then looked back at the floor filled with everything she’d stuffed and hidden away in her armoire, just as she had done to her feelings.

  “Wait,” Abby said as she stared down at her stuff all over the floor. Was that going to happen to her? Would she stuff so much inside and keep it crammed in that one day everything she’d kept hidden would burst out?

  Abby heard Dylan walk into her bedroom, then she heard the click of the door shutting. Dylan didn’t say anything as she stood staring at the overflowing armoire. “It’s time we talked,” Dylan said softly as if he were afraid the words would scare her. She felt his hands close around her upper arms as he pulled her back against his chest. They silently stood there as he wrapped his arms around her and rested his cheek against the top of her head.

  Abby took a deep shuddering breath as Dylan tightened his grip on her, and his warm lips kissed her temple so softly she thought she might have imagined it. “You know there’s been something between us since high school,” Dylan said softly between butterfly kisses to her face. When she didn’t respond, he turned her slowly in his arms and looked into her eyes.

  “Stop running, Abby,” Dylan said as he searched Abby’s eyes that were as bright as the bluest Caribbean waters. Her eyes narrowed slightly and Dylan smiled down at her. She felt so good to hold in his arms.

  “I’m not the only one running,” she said as the top of her nose wrinkled. Dylan smiled more and the wrinkle grew deeper, the more annoyed she got at him. He didn’t want to burst her bubble by telling her it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

  “I’m not running anymore,” Dylan said as he kept his eyes locked on hers. When she didn’t move and the wrinkle on her nose smoothed out, he took his chance and lowered his lips to hers. It was instantaneous chemistry. His lips couldn’t get enough of hers as he pulled her body tightly against his and kissed her as if this were his one and only chance.

  Abby softly moaned into his mouth as she fought to get closer to him. The sound triggered something deep in him. His heart pounded, and his hands roamed her body, trying to find the places that caused her breath to hitch in pleasure. But Abby wasn’t a passive woman. She was pushing his buttons as much as he pushed hers. He let her push him backward until his knees hit the bed and they both tumbled back.

  “Dylan, I—” Abby looked as if she were at a loss for words as her hair formed a curtain around their faces. “Screw it. Talking is overrated,” she muttered a second before her lips were back on his. Her body moved against his, telling him exactly what she wanted.

  “Oh, sorry,” the deep voice said as Dylan instantly rolled Abby to the side and shielded her with his body at the same time he aimed his gun at the intruder.

  “Jackson, what the fu—?” Dylan started to say, but Jackson cut him off.

  “Oh, hey, Ahmed. Still up?”

  Dylan would have laughed at the pure look of terror on Abby’s face if he didn’t feel the same way. He silently leapt from the bed and when Ahmed looked into the room, Dylan and Abby were casually picking items up from the floor. Dylan couldn’t name what he was picking up as he looked casually over at the door. Ahmed didn’t appear happy to see him there, but that would change. If he wanted a future with Abby, he needed Ahmed on board.

  “What are you doing?” Ahmed asked suspiciously. And by the way he looked between the two of them, Dylan was sure he was noting the swollen lips, the way Abby’s hair was slightly disheveled, and the slight scuffing of her neck where his day-old scruff rubbed against her skin.

  “Helping to clean up this mess. The armoire was overstuffed,” Dylan answered as he stood up holding a teddy bear and an old Keeneston High School sweatshirt.

  “There will be no stuffing of any kind. Nothing, do you understand me?” Ahmed’s voice was low and Dylan could barely hear it but that only made it more threatening.

  “Dad!” Abby was ready to argue, but Dylan turned and gave her a wink.


  “Sweet dreams,” Dylan said to her instead as he tried to hide his smile as he lowered his face toward hers. Abby looked like she was going to faint when he placed a kiss on her cheek.

  “No!” Ahmed barked. “No dreaming! No kissing! No! Just no!”

  “Honey, what is going on?” Bridget said, joining them at the door where Jackson was alternating between stepping away from Ahmed’s flushed face in fear and laughter. Once behind Ahmed, he raised his thumb to his throat and slit it. Yup, Dylan was a dead man. But he’d go down fighting.

  “He, he, he . . .” Ahmed stuttered as he pointed at Dylan.

  “Yes, that’s Dylan,” Bridget said slowly, not understanding.

  “I’m going to kill him,” Ahmed said a second before he launched himself at Dylan.

  “Dad!”

  “Ahmed!”

  Abby and Bridget shouted as Dylan took the hit and the two of them crumpled to the ground and began to grapple. Ahmed was trying to get him in a chokehold and Dylan was simply playing defense. He was going to stand up to Ahmed, not hurt him. Well, try to hurt him since Ahmed was doing a pretty good job of trying to hurt Dylan.

  “Where is it?” he heard Abby curse to herself as he and Ahmed rolled on the ground. “Ah, here it is.”

  Zap! Dylan felt his eyes glaze over as Ahmed quickly got him in a chokehold.

  Zap! Ahmed’s arm dropped from around Dylan’s neck as they both lay motionless on the ground.

  “Oh, that was fun. Tell Sophie I want one for my birthday,” Bridget said.

  Brrrtttt.

  Dylan didn’t know if the loud fart came from him or Ahmed, but then Abby and Bridget’s faces appeared overhead.

  “So, why did we stun those two?” Bridget asked Abby.

  “Dylan kissed me on the cheek.”

  Dylan heard Ahmed growl low in his throat next to him. Or he could have farted. He wasn’t entirely sure.

  “About time.” Bridget said before standing back up. “Jackson, be a dear and drag them out into the hall so we can go to bed. We’ll have a nice family dinner tomorrow to discuss this. Make sure Sophie gets me one of those by then. I won’t hesitate to use it. Hear me, boys?” Bridget asked, her face reappearing over him and Ahmed again a second before Dylan felt himself being dragged out of the room.

  * * *

  Dylan didn’t know how long he and Ahmed lay in the hallway. The house was dark and quiet except for the farting noises coming from both of them. Finally Dylan could feel his toe twitch.

  “Kill. You. Touch. Her.”

  Ah, Ahmed was coming around also. The sound of footsteps on the stairs stopped any more threats. Surely Talon or Lucas would have stopped someone coming in, but Dylan couldn’t be too careful. He focused on his body, and with all the strength, he could muster he pulled the gun from the small of his back.

  “Whoa, mates. It’s me,” Talon said as he held up his hands. “I was doing rounds. Let me get you into your beds.”

  Talon reached down and picked up Ahmed. It was then Dylan noticed the gun in his hand, too. Ahmed saw Dylan’s gun and grumbled, but Dylan smiled because it was a begrudging grumble of respect. And he wasn’t shot yet. Dylan might have kissed his daughter, but Ahmed knew he’d kill for her. And for a first step, it was a good one.

  “What’s going on out here?” Jackson asked as he held a gun in one hand and rubbed his eyes with the other. “Oh, y’all are up. You get Ahmed, and I’ll drag Dylan to bed.”

  “Cuz, that was just about the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen a man do. Kiss Ahmed’s daughter in front of the man . . . do you have a death wish?” Jackson asked as he helped Dylan into the spare room. Well, more like half dragged him into the room.

  Dylan fell onto the bed and after a little bounce finally relaxed and concentrated on getting all his bodily control back. “I’m tired of hiding my feelings for her.”

  “We haven’t talked about it since high school, but I knew after you kissed her at that field party she was different. Has it been there all along or is it just coming back for a second chance?” Jackson asked. Dylan would have laughed at how uncomfortable Jackson seemed to be if he weren’t similarly trying to find the fastest way to end the discussion.

  “Hasn’t ever gone away. That doesn’t mean I was sitting alone pining for her this past decade. But I’ve always known she was the one. Is that okay with you?”

  “Yeah, it’s okay with me. My two best friends together? Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

  “She liked you in high school and I didn’t know if you felt the same way.”

  “I know we never talked specifically about it. But no, I never felt that way. And certainly after that kiss I knew she didn’t feel that way either. You two, on the other hand . . . You two could have burned the whole town down. I’m happy for you both. If only Ahmed doesn’t kill you.”

  Jackson laughed, but Dylan knew there was a bit of truth in that statement. Tomorrow he’d develop a plan to win Ahmed over.

  12

  Dylan had been sound asleep until he felt it. Someone was looking at him. Someone was very closely looking at him. He made sure to keep his breathing even and he moved in a split second. He wrapped his hand around the neck of the person leaning over him and yanked down. In one swift motion, he planted a big smacking kiss on the cheek of his intruder.

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Dylan smiled up into the shocked face.

  “What the hell? You kissed me!” Ahmed yelled as he used the hand holding his gun to wipe his cheek. “I was going to shoot you before, but now I’ll shoot you in both knees before I kill you.”

  “Nah, you like me too much to do that.” Dylan pushed back the covers and was glad he’d left his black boxer briefs on.

  Ahmed gave a slight nod of his head. “I do like you, so I’ll miss you when you’re dead.” He flicked the safety off as Dylan stepped into his pants.

  “So, what will it take to get your approval to date Abby?” Dylan asked, ignoring the gun pointed at him.

  “No one will get my approval,” Ahmed growled.

  “Humor me. Your son-in-law wish list, what is it?”

  “Son-in-law!” Ahmed shouted. “What happened to dating?”

  Dylan shrugged his shoulders before pulling his shirt over his head. “Whichever title makes you feel better.”

  “How about the title the deceased? Have you proposed to my daughter without asking my permission?” Ahmed’s voice dropped back down to deadly.

  “No. I’m pretty sure Abby would freak out. However, the reason she’d freak out is because of you. So, what will it take for you to approve of me?”

  “Don’t you try to negotiate with me. Remember who taught it to you,” Ahmed said, waving the gun at him.

  “That was Uncle Cole. You taught me how to be threatening,” Dylan said, lowering his voice. “And Uncle Miles taught me the stare.” Dylan narrowed his eyes into the perfect death stare.

  “Ugh. You’re right. And good.” Ahmed put his hands on his hips and Dylan grinned at him.

  “So, I have your approval?”

  “Hell no. I’m thinking.”

  Dylan slipped on his shoes as Ahmed paced the room tapping the barrel of the gun to his chin, lost in thought. Ahmed stopped and smiled, but not in a nice fatherly way. It was the Dylan-would-die kind of way. “I got it. A set of challenges to prove your worth.”

  “Okay. Let’s do it,” Dylan said as he stood with his hands behind his back as if he were getting orders.

  “First and most important. You keep my daughter safe from this Chet guy and his followers. That will show you can protect her. Second, you beat me one-on-one. It’s not good enough to merely survive. You must beat me. That will show you are not scared of anything. Third, you must present Abby with a gift so touching, she cries. That will show you truly care for my daughter. Fourth, you have to take both Cricket and Ash to their Mommy and Me play dates. That will show you are kind enough for my daughter.” Ahmed’s smile grew and Dylan tried not to show his nerves. �
��Fifth, you must teach Aniyah how to shoot someone in the chest. That will show you have patience.”

  Dylan hid his feelings well. He was good up until number five. Aniyah, bless her heart, couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn. He was a dead man. Not only because Aniyah was more likely to shoot him than her target, but because without Ahmed’s verbal approval, he didn’t think Abby would go forward with their relationship.

  “Consider it done,” Dylan said with no reaction. He refused to show weakness.

  “And a few stipulations. You can’t tell Abby about any of this and you have one week.” Ahmed grinned happily and sauntered out the door as he whistled a jaunty tune.

  Dylan hurried across the hall to Abby’s room, but her door was open and she was nowhere to be seen. He tried not to run down the stairs, but he took them two at a time. He needed to have Jackson and his team watch Abby while he went to the Mommy and Me class. He knew it was once a week and it was happening that day. He remembered his mom telling him about how much fun it was last week when she took Cricket for the first time.

  Dylan strolled into the kitchen acting as calmly as he could to find Ahmed taking his seat at the head of the kitchen table. Abby watched him warily as he approached her. He could tell she didn’t know what to think about the blank look on his face. She almost backed away when he bent to place a kiss on the top of her head, but at the last minute stopped and allowed him to place a quick kiss.

  “No kissing of any kind! I forbid it!”

  Dylan turned to Ahmed. “That wasn’t a stipulation from when we talked this morning.”

  Ahmed ground his teeth together as everyone looked on with a mix of curiosity and fear.

  “What stipulations?” Abby asked.

  “Your dad and I just were getting on the same page about our relationship.”