Speed King (Men of Action)

by Ahren Sanders

  “Heard.”

  She takes another deep breath, grips my neck, and exhales. “Okay, sock it to me. How’d it go?”

  “It went as we knew it would go.”

  “And those people agreed with your decision?”

  “Harley, those people are Marines, same as me.”

  “I pictured you sitting in front of a panel of suits, and they’d disagree with your decision.”

  “We talked about your imagination running wild. Plus, you’ve met Willie.”

  “Couldn’t help it. Tell me what happened.”

  “We went and had a beer. Willie and the others weren’t surprised and understood. Knew this was coming. Major and I won’t be released for any type of action for a while. The process is extensive before being sent on our missions. We’ve amended our original arrangement. No more missions. We’re still in the Reserves, but now, we’re moving to less active roles.”

  Her mouth splits into a celebratory grin. “Told you they wouldn’t let you go. You men are too valuable.”

  “Guess you were right.”

  She melts into me, nuzzling my neck. “A thousand pounds are off my shoulders.”

  “Told you to trust me.”

  “I trust you, but you’re an American hero. You saved lives, thwarted an attack on our US Navy, and exposed a cartel transporting drugs and sex slaves into our country. No one in their right mind would want to lose that kind of talent. Even I don’t want to lose that protection.”

  “Baby, we have skills, but we’re not the only specialized four men in the military.”

  “Let’s hope those other guys are as exceptional as you.”

  A warmth glides through me at her words. All those years ago, when I left her behind, it was to become the man she deserved.

  I may never truly be good enough for all the beauty and graciousness that is Harley Jacobs.

  For the first time in my life, here, with her in my arms, saying those words, it hits me she sees me as good enough.

  “You okay now?”

  “Meaning, am I over my spastic hyperactive energy that’s been driving everyone crazy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then yes. And as much as I want to make out with you in my boss’s office, there’s a crowd out there.”

  I brush my lips across her head and set her down, linking our hands. Immediately, I notice her bare finger. “Where’s your ring?”

  Her smile fades, and she glances away nervously. “In your safe.”

  “Why isn’t it on your finger?”

  “Tonight’s busy, and I’m scared it would get dirty or damaged.”

  “If it does, I’ll handle it.”

  “Achilles, everyone knows we’re engaged.”

  “That’s the point. You’re not available to any shithead that thinks differently.”

  A fire ignites in her eyes, blazing bright. “Don’t ruin our awesome moment by being an irrational Neanderthal.”

  “An irrational Neanderthal would drive his ass home, get the ring, and come back to plant it on your fucking finger.”

  The blaze flares, and she tries to yank her hand away. “You know, with your line of work, you'll take your ring off, too.”

  “Not if I don’t wear a ring.”

  Her body deflates. “You won’t wear a wedding ring?”

  “What’s the point?”

  “What’s the point? The point is, it’s a universal symbol of commitment and love.”

  “It’s a piece of metal that can be easily discarded.”

  “Wow, aren’t you a romantic?” she snips.

  “I want something more permanent. Ink lasts forever. Your initials inked in my skin shows a commitment that can’t be mistaken.”

  “Oh my God.” Her hand flies to her mouth, the fiery blaze transforming into a bright blue hue. “That’s so much cooler than a ring.”

  “Babe.”

  “Now I want to get a tattoo, too.”

  “Why don’t we talk about it later?”

  “Right. I have to go make a lot of women happy and chirpy with fabulous drinks, hot guys, and my fabulous specialty martini. Plus, we don’t want Tom to walk in on me jumping you on his desk.”

  My cock twitches, the image of her on that desk filling my head. “Don’t tempt me. But before we go back out there, you need to adjust your shirt.”

  “What’s wrong with my shirt?”

  “It’s tied up under your tits, showing everything.”

  “It’s tied at my midriff and completely appropriate.”

  “Every man in that bar will zero in on your tits.”

  “Hello! Every man in the universe zeroes in on tits. It’s in your DNA.”

  “Harley—”

  “Achilles, shut it and lighten up!” She bounces up to kiss me and yanks me out of the office.

  When we get to the bar, the place is packed. She squeezes my hand and rushes to help Jewls and Tom, who’s working service bar. He takes one look at her and juts his chin at me in appreciation.

  I go to our regular spot, shaking hands with a few of the guys from the force. Major slides a beer my way and clinks his with mine.

  “How’d that go?”

  “Good.”

  “Then why’s her shirt still tied below her tits?”

  I pause mid-sip and glare at him at the same time a roar of laughter comes from the others.

  “Shut the fuck up,” I grumble.

  “Preppy blonde across the bar is sizing her up. Just saying…”

  Anything else he mutters drones out as I stand, ready to deal. My head whips across the way to find Erik waving her down. Major laughs, punching me in the arm. “You make it too easy.”

  “Wouldn’t get too cocky. Jewls has an admirer.”

  His eyes fling to the end of the bar where Jewls is chatting with a well-dressed guy who’s clearly interested. She’s dressed similar to Harley in tight, ripped jeans and her Tom’s shirt. But instead of her shirt being tied up, she’s cut the bottom off, making it a crop top. Considering it’s also tight, she’s showing more skin than Harley.

  There’s a flicker of irritation in Major’s glare before he turns, shaking his head. “He’s out of place in this bar.”

  “She doesn’t seem to mind.”

  “Not her type.”

  I want to correct him that the guy is exactly her type, but think better of it. “So, still just friends then?”

  “Yep, friends.”

  Her head turns our way, and she flashes a flirty smile.

  Jesus, my best friend is a true dumbass if he thinks that’s a smile aimed at ‘just a friend’. But I decide to let it go. Whatever is happening between them seems to work.

  Major waves his beer in the air, signaling he’s ready for another. Which is bullshit, since he’s only had a few sips. She pulls four bottles out of the tub of ice, bringing them over.

  “It’s a good thing you arrived when you did. Tom was milliseconds away from tying Harley to a chair and taping her mouth shut,” she teases, passing out bottles.

  “She’s settled.”

  “That means your meeting went well?”

  “Went the way we expected.”

  “I’m shocked they let you go. All those lines they crossed to keep you in the loop, and they cut you loose?” She makes a scissor gesture with her fingers.

  “Not exactly, we’re staying in the Reserves in a more training and development role,” Major informs her.

  “I dig that. At least, now, you guys only have one dangerous job we need to worry about.”

  “You don’t need to worry. We can handle ourselves.”

  “You can keep repeating that and I’ll do the same. We worry.” She emphasizes the last sentence.

  “Aww, little Jewls. You saying you love us?” Talon makes a kissing sound.

  “Yeah, you asshat. Don’t know why, but I guess I do.”

  “Jewls! Get back to work. You two wanted this damn themed night. Go take care of these women,” Tom barks brusquely.


  Like everyone, she’s unaffected, patting his cheek and sashaying away.

  A quick glance, and I note Major’s eyes glued to her ass.

  “You guys know anything about Hayes Security waltzing into my bar?”

  The name gets all of our attention. Casting a glance over Tom’s shoulder, I catch Robbie and Finn with their wives and another couple, Jimi and Abbi. Max is hanging to the side.

  “My guess is Harley and Jewls invited them, and their husbands are checking this place out.”

  “They friends of yours?”

  “Guess you can say that. Only been around them a few times. Why, something I should know?”

  “Robbie Hayes and Finn Black are bad mothers. Max Roberts works with them occasionally. Robbie’s dad owns the security firm, and his reputation is hailed far and wide. Over the years, we worked together a few times. When I retired, thought about hitting up James Hayes for a side gig, then changed my mind. That team has skills.”

  “We know that first hand,” Ford relays.

  Talon and Ford called a few friends in MARSOC to get backgrounds on Finn, Robbie, and Max. Their military and professional records are impressive.

  Finn, Robbie, Presley, and Ember came by a few days after we got home. The guys didn’t share who relayed the intel of our mission, but gave us a rundown of the news that came in. Max had already left town, but a few days later, I called him to thank him.

  While we were in the hospital, Harley filled me in on the night she learned we were shot. The jealous bastard in me reared up, knowing another man had her in his arms, but I forced myself to hold it in, knowing how torn up she was.

  Max took care of her, and that is something that she’ll always remember. So, I sucked up my pride and let him know how much it meant that he was there.

  “They’re good people to have relations with. Remember that. Word on the street is they’re always recruiting.” Tom’s parting words hang in the air after he walks away.

  “Hey, guys!” Harley notices them, jumping up and waving.

  With each bounce, her shirt goes higher, and I dip my chin to my chest to keep from losing my mind.

  “Hey there.” A hand lands on my shoulder, and I tilt to see Presley sliding in close. “You alright?”

  “Trying to keep from catapulting across this bar and yanking that fucking knot out of my fiancée’s shirt.”

  Her mouth splits into an amused smile. “Yeah, you’re okay.”

  “Better man than me,” Finn mutters, offering his hand.

  “I’d have Ember over my shoulder and out the door,” Robbie adds.

  “Hardly, I’ve had two kids and miss the days my stomach was that toned and sexy,” Ember speaks up.

  “Amen, sister.” Presley salutes her with a flick of her fingers.

  Both men roll their eyes.

  “You ladies get the signature drink of the night on the house!” Harley chirps, pushing three martini glasses across to them.

  “Oh, thank God. It’s been a day from hell. I’ve been jonesing for hours.” Abbi steps in, swipes a glass, and finishes half in one swallow. “This is divine!”

  “Oh, fuck.” Jimi drops his chin, much like my move earlier, and shakes his head.

  “Four IPA’s, whatever you have,” Finn orders from Harley.

  Major, Ford, Talon, and I offer our seats to the girls.

  Harley delivers the drinks and hustles to the end of the bar where a crowd has formed.

  “Damn good to see you guys,” Max repeats the sentiment we’ve heard over and over.

  “You too, man.” I slap my hand in his, bringing him in to bump shoulders.

  “Did you get it done?” he refers to our meeting.

  “We’re not out, but this team is retiring from covert operations.” I describe our new arrangement.

  “Knew they wouldn’t let you go.”

  “They were happy to let both these thugs go. It was Ford and me that were the losses. Thought Willie would weep the way he took the news,” Talon jokes.

  “More like weep with happiness your pain in the ass isn’t his responsibility anymore,” Major throws out.

  “What did I miss?” Harley props her elbows on the bar.

  “Oh my God, I totally understand why you live at the Club. These guys are fun,” Abbi chirps, finishing her drink.

  Apparently, the Club rumor has made its rounds.

  Harley looks to all of us, her eyes landing on me last. “They’re a mess, but they’re the best.”

  “Did Jay ever tell you about her and Jewls’ first visit to the Club?” Harley’s grin vanishes at Talon’s question.

  “No!” she cries out.

  “Oooh, this sounds like a fun story.” Presley does a little shimmy. “Tell.”

  Talon tells the story with Ford and Major interjecting parts of it. All the while, Harley’s cheeks blister into a deeper shade of pink.

  “… then she and Jewls went flying. Screeching like banshees, all arms and legs tangling up as they rolled around. Had to be the worst attempt at being undercover. The only thing they had going for them was the matching black sprocket attire. Funniest fucking shit ever.”

  Jewls hears the story and grins proudly, shouting, “Good times,” as she passes.

  Everyone gets a laugh at the remark except Harley. She shoots Talon an evil glare and goes to serve a group of guys. They measure her up, one of them openly gaping appreciatively at the edge of her tattoo.

  If they’re on the force, I don’t recognize them. I sip my beer, lasering in on the guy who’s now bent over closer, his mouth moving. When his hand covers hers, I’m on the move.

  “Shit,” Major hisses at my back.

  Instead of heading around, I march straight behind the bar to her side. My hand circles her waist and squeezes possessively. “Baby, the girls need more of those drinks. Do you want me to help you here?”

  The guy’s hand retracts, and he jerks his chin in acknowledgment.

  She tilts her face to mine, eyes fierce with irritation. “No, bayyybee, I’ll handle it.” Her tone’s a mix of saccharine and sarcasm, her fingernails biting into the skin through my shirt.

  She shunts me to the side and grabs three highball glasses, filling them with scotch.

  The guy gives her a card to start a tab, then steps out of the way to make room. I dip my face to find her glaring.

  “Can you try to not be bullheaded and overprotective?”

  “I’m pretty fucking restrained, considering your shirt is still tied. The guy didn’t need to lay his hand on you to order a drink.”

  “I’m riding the high of my-initial-being-inked-on-your-finger.” She pokes me in the chest. “Get over my shirt.”

  A throat clears, pulling our attention to Rowan and Ginger standing there. I’ve seen them regularly over the last few weeks. Harley explained Rowan was finally coming out of her shell. She joins the girls for Saturday morning Pilates and a few after-work gatherings.

  Like all the times I’ve seen her, Ginger is smiling brightly. Rowan is a more reserved, quiet type.

  During one of their happy hours, Rowan confessed her ex was a controlling asshole who stepped over the line by using force. The morning after our callout, she began kicking him out of her life.

  The night after that outing, I received a text from an unknown number with two words.

  Thank you

  Simple and direct.

  Since then, when we see each other, she’s more comfortable, but still shy.

  “Y’all came,” Harley chirps eagerly, her agitation forgotten. “Try tonight’s specialty drink.”

  “Sounds great to me. This week has been hell. I swear this last semester is killing me,” Ginger replies dramatically.

  “I remember that last semester at Vandy. So nerve-wracking,” Rowan chimes in. “At least you already have a job waiting.”

  Part of her statement surprises me. I knew they’ve offered Ginger Harley’s vacant position when she graduates, but I didn’t know Ro
wan attended Vanderbilt.

  “What did I tell you about being behind my bar? Unless your ass is wearing one of my shirts and working for me, you’re a liability!” Tom yells. “Get your ass out and over to the customer side.”

  Harley passes their drinks over the bar. “Grab Erik and come around to the other side. I want to introduce you to our friends.”

  “And you need to go before Tom has a conniption. He’s had his fill of me tonight.” She pokes my stomach.

  “When I get you home, I’m getting my fill of you tonight.” My thumb scales across her midriff, goosebumps popping at the touch.

  Her eyes flare with heat, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth.

  I brush my lips over hers. “Behave.”

  She backs out of my reach.

  Tom grunts when I pass him, slapping his shoulder. There’s a fresh beer waiting, and Jimmy hands it over.

  “So, I guess you and I should talk about my job.”

  The surrounding murmurs quiet, and the hair on the back of my neck prickles. My eyes slice around before coming back to him. “Your job?”

  “Yeah, Harley says you’re making a career change. Interested in becoming an accountant.”

  I freeze, beer lifted mid-air, completely caught off-guard. The silence lasts a few beats before Talon howls, followed by the rest. Jimmy’s lips twitch, revealing he’s aware of the inside joke. My gaze travels to Harley, whose hand is covering her mouth while her body vibrates.

  “Bunch of smart asses,” I mumble, not able to hold in my amusement.

  Oh, the ways Harley will pay for that later.

  30

  Harley

  “Where are you?” Achilles barks in greeting.

  “Hello, how are you? How’d your afternoon with the girls at the spa go? Are you excited about tonight? Don’t be nervous, you’ll kill it,” I snap back sarcastically.

  “Baby, I’ll ask all those questions when I see you, which was supposed to be ten minutes ago.”

  I check the time and realize we’re cutting it close. “I’m at the house, where you told me to meet you.”

  “I meant this house, so we’d ride over together.”

  “I misunderstood when you said ‘our house’!”

  “Don’t go in without me. I’ll be there in two.” The line disconnects, and it’s my turn to huff.