“Can we give it up?” I’m unsure it’s possible. “Being Marines is in our blood. It’s who we are.”
“We’ll always be Marines. Shit, Ace, think about it. We’ve stood side-by-side battling the worst of the worst, including our recent annihilation of members of a Columbian drug cartel.” Talon takes a breath, visibly struggling with what comes next. “I’m proud of my service to my country. I’m proud of everything we’ve done. It will always be in my blood. Us leaving the Corps won’t change who we are, what we’ve done, or what we are to each other.”
“I don’t think of it as giving up. We moved on a year ago when we became cops. When we agreed to this special gig, we got our years of service, and things were a lot different. You’re marrying Harley. We’ve bought land to build houses. We had no idea where we’d be today,” Ford adds solemnly.
“Major? You okay with this?” Of all people, this decision has to be weighing heavily. Being in the Corps is in his blood. His dad, grandfather, uncle—all served.
“Ace, you have to admit, this was a close call. Closer than ever before. Face the facts. You and I are out of commission for a while.”
He’s right. Without talking to the doctor, it’s obvious our prognosis will have us out for weeks, possibly months.
“Think about it. We don’t have to decide now.”
“We’re a team. I stand with you guys. No matter what.” It goes unsaid they feel the same.
“So, more news. We didn’t tell Harley the depth of your injuries. Thought it was for the best,” Ford tells me.
“Good.”
“She already knew the details of everything else.”
“How?”
Talon’s jaw ticks, his eyes sharp. “Finn Black, Max Roberts, and Robbie Hayes are in the mix.”
“Fuck, how’d that shit happen? We’re buried under the radar.”
“Apparently not to those three. Max is well connected.”
“If he’s that well connected, then he knows what happened.”
“He does. I spoke to him. He’s on board with keeping the medical details vague.”
“But we were too late to stop the moms,” Major speaks up.
“So, Harley knows,” I surmise.
“Yes, and she’s not happy with any of us, including Max.”
“If someone will give me a damn phone, I’ll take care of it.”
Talon hands his over after pulling up her contact. It goes directly to voicemail. I disconnect, pressing send again, getting the same result.
“She’s not answering.”
“Maybe she’s at her parents’. We haven’t heard from her in a few hours.”
Worry sets in, and I scroll to find Rich’s number, which also goes unanswered.
“Where the fuck is she?”
“I’m right here.” She materializes from behind the partition with Rich and my dad at her back.
Every thought in my head and everyone in the room vanishes. My pulse races hard, setting my monitor off again.
She’s wearing shimmery black leggings and a red sweater that’s open to reveal a simple white shirt. The leggings and shirt are molded to her tight body. Her hair hangs in soft waves with rhinestone clips holding it back on one side. The color of her eyes is a blazing bright blue.
Unbelievably fucking gorgeous.
Sheer perfection.
And incredibly pissed off.
“Harley, what are you doing—”
She throws her palm in the air and strolls my way. “It’s obvious these men can’t be depended on. I’ve spent the last seven hours between airports and in the air. Checking my phone like a madwoman when I had service, knowing my darling, dear, beloved friends would call me the minute there was a change in your condition.” She swivels her head to the guys, who are a shade paler. “Then I get here, only to find out from the perky personality nurse that he’s been awake an hour?!?”
Major slumps in his wheelchair, while Talon and Ford drop their eyes to the floor.
She gets to my side, doing a once-over, and after a beat, flings herself at me. I wrap my arms around her waist, hoisting her onto the bed. Her body quakes, her breaths coming in short rasps.
“I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
“Baby, I’m good. Even better now that you’re here.”
She tilts back, covering my face with kisses before crashing her mouth over mine. My hand moves to cup the back of her head as I savor the feel, touch, and taste of her. She angles to give me better access, opening wider.
A throat clears, followed by another, and I grunt, breaking away.
Dad and Rich are looking around in avoidance. Major and Ford are smirking.
“Just to say, that’s not sanitary. The purified air and antiseptic are the only things covering his stench. Plus, remember your condition.” Talon’s gaze goes to my groin.
He’s not referring to my wound. It’s more about the firmness growing between my legs. A throbbing pain shoots up my shaft.
“He’s right. I don’t even remember my last shower or when I brushed my teeth.”
“I don’t care,” she insists.
“Beautiful, I’ve got a piss tube lodged in my dick. It’s not gonna go well if I grow hard.” I whisper this for only her ears, and she shifts, her eyes wide in surprise.
“Sorry.”
“It’ll be gone soon.” I wink and get a grin in return.
She slides out of my hold and goes to Talon, shooting him an annoyed scowl. He sweeps her off her feet, shaking her like a doll until she’s giggling. “Knew you couldn’t stay mad.”
She gives Ford a quick but tight hug, then crouches in front of Major, taking his hand.
“I have an excuse for not calling. There’s a hole in my chest.”
“You’re excused.” She kisses his cheek and stands. “I’m thankful you’re okay.”
Dad and Rich come to my side, both looking ragged and exhausted.
“Son,” Dad’s voice breaks, and Rich lays a hand on his shoulder.
“Good to see you awake, Ace.” His own tone is heavy and grave.
“Good to be awake.”
“Your mom and Amanda will be here later. We couldn’t all get on the same flight.” Dad speaks clearly this time, his gaze on the square bandage on my arm.
“Flesh wound.” I run my hand across the gauze.
“And the other?”
“Nurse said it looks good.”
“I’d like to hear that from the doctor. He’ll be here soon.” Harley crawls back on the bed carefully, situating herself at my side. “I know it sounds silly, uber-girly, and sappy, but walking in and being here with you guys is the best Christmas present ever.” She looks at everyone before locking eyes with me.
“Are you saying we’re your version of a Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range air rifle?” Talon jokes, helping to keep the mood light after her confession.
Her nose scrunches adorably.
“A Christmas Story, babe.”
“That’s still on?”
“Twenty-four-seven marathon every Christmas.”
“Well, if there is any silver lining to spending Christmas in a hospital in Costa Rica—we won’t have American television.”
“Oh, contraire, Jay-Jay. We’ve already chatted with the staff, and Talon’s streaming it tonight,” Major informs her.
She shakes her head rapidly. “The moms are bringing the bag with the presents I packed. When they get here, we’re having Christmas.”
“You showed up here planning a Christmas party?”
“Told you I had plans to wake you up. Between the food, fun, and present exchange, I figured there was a good chance. If that didn’t work, Plan B was more drastic.”
“Drastic how?”
She chews on her bottom lip, casting a glance sideways and shrugging. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Why do I get the feeling Plan B would have had consequences?”
“Because her hock-eyed scheme was to push your s
ubconscious into a fit of jealousy using the guys as pawns.” Rich throws her right under the bus.
“Dad!”
“Sorry, honey, been listening to your babbling for long enough to know that wasn’t smart.”
“It would suck to save his life, only to have Ace slay me,” Talon complains.
“Well, I was desperate to try anything. My research pointed toward inciting an emotional reaction,” she defends. “Like I said, it’s unnecessary now.”
Jealousy spikes in my system, even though nothing happened. “Glad it didn’t come to that.”
“Merry Christmas, Achilles.” She nuzzles into my neck.
I curl her to me, kissing along her forehead, and rolling my thumb around her bare ring finger. There’s no question about it. When we get back to Nashville, this woman will be wearing my ring.
28
Harley
Max Roberts had it wrong. Way wrong.
If Robbie and Finn were surly, temperamental bitches, he got off easy. I’d welcome surly and temperamental. Instead, I have pig-headed, stubborn, cantankerous grizzly bears who are resolved to defy the science of modern medicine.
The five days in the hospital grew increasingly tense as Achilles and Major tested their limits. It was no surprise they were rebellious patients. Achilles was successful in convincing his doctor to remove the catheter, and both men were required to move around. Achilles made it three times with the walker before he refused to use it again.
Not that he didn’t have mobility, but because of his bulk and stature, we had to make sure he didn’t put too much stress on his wound. Each day that passed, he and Major grew more impatient. Finally, the doctors agreed they are young, healthy, fit men with extremely strong wills, so they released them. But their release came with strict orders. No strenuous activity, no overexertion, and no work for at least a month. Then a reassessment. Gunshot wounds are no joke.
One good thing that occurred was I got to meet the infamous Willie. My first instinct was to be angry with him, but it was impossible. He may have been some kind of big-wig in the Marines, but he walked in like a normal man and won me over. Luckily, he was there when the men were discharged and reiterated their orders with strong authority.
It irritated Major and Achilles, but they didn’t argue when he told them he’d be in touch with me. Either they follow directions, or he’d be making a trip to Nashville. I’m not sure if that’s normal protocol, but I hoped he was serious.
We were discharged and had one night in a Costa Rican hotel courtesy of the U.S. Government. Once again, not sure this was protocol, but I wasn’t complaining. Since I’d arrived, I’d spent every night at Achilles’ side in the hospital. The parents went home two days after we got there. Talon and Ford had a hotel but spent all day at the hospital.
Once again, they displayed the depths of their brotherhood, refusing to leave unless the four of them were together. Well, five, including me.
The early flight out this morning couldn’t have come soon enough. Now that we’ve touched down in Nashville, I’m facing another battle. They are refusing the wheelchair service to get through the airport to baggage.
“Jay-Jay, I handled it. Trust me,” Ford says lowly in my ear as we leave our seats.
“Not sure you gained my trust back yet.”
“Aww, sounds like a challenge.”
We exit the ramp and are assaulted by clapping, howls, and deafening cheers. People we don’t know and will never see again are welcoming us.
I stop dead, my heart in my throat and Achilles’ hand tightening around mine painfully. He glares at Ford. “You couldn’t help yourself?”
“May have flirted with that flight attendant a little too much. I asked for waiting transportation.” He’s not sorry at all.
“Payback is hell.” Achilles pulls me into a protective hold and gets us to the waiting airport trolley. He gives a few chin dips in appreciation, Talon showboating to all the attention.
Jim Powers is waiting in baggage claim, his eyes scanning through us and lighting with relief when they land on Major.
By the time we are off the trolley, Jim has his son in one of those dad-type bear hugs that has my eyes stinging. He takes turns with each of them, welcoming them home. Our bags are out first, and I suspect this has to do with Ford sweetening up the flight attendant.
Jim’s Escalade is parked curbside, which is usually prohibited, but the traffic attendant waves as we load up.
“Your mom and brothers are eager to see you—all of you,” Jim announces.
Major’s spoken to his parents daily and assured them he’s fine, but they insisted on being here when we arrived home.
Rightfully so.
I lay my head on Achilles’ shoulder and listen to the men carry on conversations about nothing in particular. Ford and Talon may have kept up a good front in the hospital each day, but they didn’t fool anyone. Sitting around with spotty television, playing board games and cards was boring. It didn’t bother me as much because my days were filled with phone calls, emails, texts, tons of Facetime sessions, and even a few impromptu meetings with Raven regarding an upcoming charity event that MJ Labels is sponsoring. My cousin Shayla got a hold of me on Christmas, hysterical that she was in the dark about everything in my life. We had a serious showdown about what was more important—her jet-setting around the globe, or my newfound love life.
I lost, and now she’s been in daily contact.
So, I’ve been busy.
But these are action men, and being cooped up drove them all crazy.
When we turn onto their street, my stomach goes into a flurry.
“What the fuck?” Achilles grinds out. “Is that my dad’s SUV?”
“Yes.” My answer is low, testing his next reaction.
“Why?”
“Because your parents want to see you.”
“Are your parents here?”
I peer up, nodding.
“We spent three days with them earlier this week. They know we’re all good. Why are they invading our home?”
“Ummm,” I glance in the rearview mirror, and Jim’s eyes are dancing with humor.
“It’s New Year’s Eve.”
“Oh, shit,” Ford draws out.
“Harley, what’s going on?”
“We’re kinda doing a homecoming-slash-Christmas and New Year’s Party.” The last part is lightning-fast and I brace.
The four guys share an expression that sends an icy chill down my spine. Jim’s shoulders bunch, and a low hiss slithers through the cab of the truck. “Ace—”
“No problem, pull around back,” Achilles instructs him gruffly.
“Honey, if you’re tired, they’ll all understand.”
He doesn’t answer, hopping out before we’re stopped. One arm goes under my knees and the other around my waist as he whisks me out of the truck. “Luggage,” he barks.
“We got it, Ace.”
“Put me down! You’re not allowed to lift heavy objects.” I squirm and wriggle.
“You’re not heavy.” He pounds his code and slams open his door.
“Why are you acting like a lunatic? We have a house full of people.”
“That’s a problem for me right now.” He stalks to his bed, setting me across it. “Don’t move.” His demand is curt and terse.
I’m stunned stupid at his anger and the whiplash of the last two minutes. He disappears into the closet and comes out clenching something in his hand.
Is that a box?
It is.
As soon as my brain makes the connection, all the air whooshes out of my lungs. My heart races to the ringing in my ears. I barely register him situating me to straddle his lap.
“Get us home, bundle you up, and drive us over to our lot with a bottle of champagne. Take you to where our bedroom will be. Tell you, you aren’t only the love of my life, but everything to me. I didn’t want to be rushed or cliché. You, me, all the time in the world. In that hospital room, every night w
hile you slept beside me, I’d think about it, perfecting it in my head. I had a plan. A plan that did not include a house full of people invading before we even got here.”
“Achill—“ His name comes out scratchy around the boulder in my throat.
“I love you, Harley.”
“I love you, too. Always have.”
His beautiful dark eyes go molten, his lips skimming over mine. A cold metal pushing on my finger brings my focus to our hands.
He slips a ring to the base, and my breath comes in short, shallow pants. The center diamond shines and sparkles a brilliance so bright my eyes burn.
“Marry me, Harley.” He kisses along my knuckles.
Words escape me as I stare at the exquisite ring that may never leave my finger.
“Baby?”
I throw myself forward, tackling him back on the bed.
His grunt turns to a groan when my mouth crashes to his. My tongue plunders around clumsily, wanting to taste and touch everywhere I can. His fingers thread through my hair, angling my head and taking over.
Our tongues swirl together, finding a rhythm.
I kiss him with everything I have, growing lightheaded as the reality of the situation settles deep inside. Emotions bubble to the surface, tears threatening to fall. I push them back and frame his face, soaking in the way he kisses me greedily.
His hips grind into mine, the hard, thick length fitting perfectly between my legs. I moan down his throat, pressing down.
My brain screams for oxygen, and warning bells go off when his hands slip into my waistband, cupping my ass.
“Sweetie, we can’t.” I break away, regretting my words. His eyes are now smoldering with hunger and lust, sending a tingling all the way to my core.
“Fuck the doctor’s orders.”
“It’s only one more day.”
He frowns but doesn’t argue. “Is that your way of saying yes?”
“You didn’t ask a question.”
“Marry me,” he repeats.
“As a matter-of-fact, since the day you showed up at my yoga studio all those months ago, announcing you were taking me to lunch, you don’t ask many questions when it comes to your plans.”
Speed King (Men of Action) Page 29
