“I do. That’ll make seven. Seven against the world.”
“Well?” Alex bit out. “Are you in or out?”
“Count me in. I’ve seen worse odds,” Walker breathed without thinking more about challenges or risks. He already knew saving one child was worth everything, even dying for. Didn’t know why he’d asked. He’d saved Emily, hadn’t he?
“I knew you’d want in,” Zack purred. “Until we heard about your case, Alex was thinking of ending The TEAM, weren’t you, Boss?”
“My case?” Walker asked.
Alex’s gaze dropped to his intertwined fingers. “Yes, you, damn it. The more I dug into your trial, then found out you’d gone to Guatemala alone to rescue Emily Dooley, I knew you’d fit right in. And yes, I’ve considered changing our mission from working federal contracts to hunting down human-traffickers one hundred percent of the time. But not every agent can handle these situations, and there are plenty of other people who need our unique brand of help.” His head came up, his blue eyes lethal. “Like Mei, LiLi, and Song.”
“Like Quinn and Emily Dooley,” Walker added. “Quinn didn’t know who to turn to without getting the media involved.”
“What would those folks have done without guys like us to go into Hell and save their kids?” Zack asked quietly. “Their souls?”
“I only need a few good men.” Alex sounded like a damned USMC recruiting poster.
But Walker understood the import behind those words. Save the world. His line of work. “When do we start?”
“Soon as you get this tugboat back to Florida,” Alex groused. “That’s where you’re headed, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but that will take a couple months,” Walker answered. “I’ll have to take her back through the Canal, and I don’t sail alone.” Not anymore.
“Then get it done.”
Walker took that for permission to select his one-woman crew. “So what else is going on? Why are Lennox and Maher really here?”
“Because…” Alex scrubbed a hand over his face. “Like everyone else in this damned world, Zack and Connor just had to meet you.”
“And you paid for them to…? Come all this way just to meet… me?”
“Hell, yeah. You’re a fuckin’ star.” Zack leaned over his knees and grinned at Walker. “Welcome to The TEAM, Junior Agent Judge.”
He saw that meaty ham-sized set of knuckles coming dead center of his still-healing shoulder. Ouch. But did he flinch? Not. One. Bit.
Alex muttered. “You’ll do.”
“You’ll do, too, Boss,” Walker replied. “Yeah. You guys will do just fine.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Two months later
With a sigh, Walker settled on the blanket he’d spread under the trees beside Persia’s bungalow, the same trees she’d hidden beneath the night he’d come ashore to kiss America goodbye. The night he’d thought he was alone in the world. Everything had changed since then.
Stretching his legs, Walker crossed his ankles, leaned back on his elbows, and breathed. Just breathed. It was a lazy, late summer afternoon. Blue sky stretched forever overhead. A handsome green iguana ambled by, his magnificent tail dragging behind him.
This island was as close to heaven as Walker could get. Straight ahead, his second home, the sea, redolent in all its turquoise majesty, beckoned. To his right, the bungalow that housed the sexy goddess he adored. Walker had a ring in his swim trunks’ pocket. If there were a better place in the world to propose, he didn’t know it.
Familiar scents of salt and sea rolled ashore with the breakers. The ridge of waving sea oats between him and the shoreline of this tiny island made a decent privacy screen, in case things went the way he hoped.
For now, his yacht bobbed calmly at the deep end of Persia’s sturdy dock. He meant to buy it when it came up on the next FBI auction. The last two months traveling from California, through the Panama Canal, and onto Florida, had been time well spent. He’d gotten to know Persia better. He’d swum with her every chance he could. They’d played on every shore they’d dropped anchor on, as well as on every flat surface the yacht offered. For the first time in a long damned time, Walker hadn’t felt the need to look over his shoulder. Not even once.
But of all the places they’d been, this was the only place to propose.
After off-loading Goff to the local authorities in San Diego, and after answering three days of questions from those same authorities, Walker and Persia had finally been allowed to hoist anchor and sail away. By then, Alex, Zack, Izza, and Connor had flown onto Virginia. Senator Sullivan was back on the Hill. Walker didn’t know precisely where Brim and Rover had gone, only that they’d disappeared the same time Alex did.
The Navy scandal was no longer front-page news. Except for an occasional uneducated hater, America and the world had accepted Walker’s innocence and moved on. The body lying beneath Goff’s headstone? One of California’s poor homeless, a middle-aged woman. No name. No birth certificate. No DMV license. No record in any government system. Which made the discovery even sadder.
There was no way to know who’d killed her, but the blunt force trauma to the back of her skull testified her death had been violent. Turned out the local medical examiner had also been one of Goff’s buddies, which was why those morgue photos looked authentic. They were. Goff had actually posed for them. But there was no way to prove he’d murdered the woman, and his ME buddy consistently declared he’d only done what Goff had told him to do. That Goff provided the body that went into the casket. Not him.
None of that mattered to the US Attorney General. Goff’s ME buddy went down for complicity. He and Goff were now sitting in the Navy brig in Miramar, San Diego, hopefully on their way to Leavenworth.
Walker wished he’d known then, when he’d worked for Goff, what he knew now. He’d give his last dollar for a time machine to go back and prevent Emily’s abduction. Problem was, there were so many predators like Goff and his lackeys in the world today. And plenty more children who needed saving.
He glanced up at the sound of Persia’s bare feet padding over the sand. She’d brought two frosted bottles of beer, a couple glasses, and she was wearing nothing but the slip of a halter top dress he’d bought her in San Diego. Mint green had never looked so good. This was their coming home celebration, and that dress would look just as good on the sand. Nothing was going to spoil what Walker had planned.
The longnecks made him smile. This would be their first alcoholic drink in months, and that beer was old. She’d bought it months before she’d gone to the Netherlands to bring his ass home. But he’d drink it. Hell, he’d toast to their new life together, even with stale beer.
Tugging her onto his lap when she drew close, he set them on the wooden tray he’d located by the blanket.
Twisting around on his thighs, she tipped forward and set two frosty glasses with the bottles. Her delightful breasts filled the cups of that halter top perfectly. Fully. She was ripe, sensual seduction personified, and her nipples were diamond hard. This woman had proven she could be a handful on the job any day, but she was his handful today.
Just that fast, every muscle in his body turned to steel. His palms settled on her hip, his fingers splayed, already absorbing the seductive sensation of her bare skin under the thin fabric of the dress. He licked his lips, wanting another kiss. Another taste. Another long, drawn-out suckle… But no. Not yet. They had business to discuss. Work first. Play—a lot—later.
“Before we head up to Virginia for work, I’d like to meet your parents,” he declared, his voice uncommonly ragged, his throat dry. “Remind me what your dad’s name is? I don’t think you’ve ever said.”
She hooked one arm around his neck. “I’d love you to meet them, my sister and her family, too. But I’ll bet you’ve probably already heard of Dad. He’s Dupree Coltrane.”
Oh. My. Hell. “As in General Dupree Coltrane? The officer who accompanied Schwarzkopf into Baghdad back i
n 1990, after the invasion of Kuwait?”
“He was only a colonel then, but yes. That’s my dad.” She cocked her head, those sultry browns so damned sexy.
A man could fall into those deep, dark pools and never be seen again. It was an effort to pull back far enough from this alluring woman to collect his senses. Her scent enveloped him and her fingertips were fluttering like velvet butterflies over his skin. Everything Persia was turned Walker inside out. He couldn’t think!
“Sugar,” was all that came to his lips.
“Are you afraid to meet him?” she breathed in that come hither, kiss-me tone she did so well.
Yes! “No. Certainly not. I just…” Damn. I was going to ask you something, wasn’t I? Oh, yeah.
“So you’re an Army brat,” Walker said once he could speak again. Only that wasn’t what he’d wanted to ask, not by a long shot. General Coltrane was her father? My hell…
Walker had never once connected her cotton-growing dad with that particular, hard-driving US Army officer. General Dupree Coltrane? Holy shit! Being who he was certainly explained Persia’s audacious nerve. Her dedication to country. Her tough as hell work ethic, and her innate ability to lead.
“No, I’m your brat,” she murmured suggestively as she pressed her lips to his chin, then ran the tip of her tongue up his neck to his ear. “Want to do something about it?”
“I do,” he purred, slipping his hand beneath the mint icing on tonight’s dessert and his fingers into Persia. She was bare to the touch. Slippery. Ready for the real question of the day.
Her lips parted on a heated sigh. The long-ago day when he hadn’t been able to perform was a fuzzy memory. He’d proven himself a hundred times since then. Meant to prove how much he loved her again on this very beach. Until the stars came out.
The sensation of her fingertips scraping over his scalp worked shivering magic up his spine. Walker tipped flat to the blanket and took Persia with him. She was right where he wanted her when she landed, straddling his hips. No panties. Just the way he liked her.
Arching his back, he slipped his swim trunks down his hips, then toed them off.
She tipped over him, her long fingers splayed on his pecs, her dark eyes shining on him with sparkling light. The rest of the world disappeared. He was so damned in love.
They were different people now. On the night they’d first met, she’d been running on empty and fighting demons. There’d been sparks in her eyes then, too, but they’d been warning shots. Staunch declarations for him to move on and take off.
He hadn’t been in much better condition. Hell, he hadn’t been able to make love to her correctly. But now? She owned him, his ass, his yacht, this beach house, and together they were shopping for a stylish home in Falls Church, Virginia. Her nightmares had stopped, and they hadn’t had so much as a beer in months. He had his life back, and a career that promised not only out-of-sight benefits, but the satisfaction of knowing he’d make a difference at the end of every day.
When her hair spilled like cool, silky ribbons over his chest and neck, he pulled her in for an urgent kiss. Persia was everything good and sweet and holy in his life. She was perfect. The moment he deepened the kiss, he knew it was time.
But the moment he opened his mouth to ask, she whispered, “Alex and his wife are expecting a baby. Do you like kids?”
That seemed like the perfect segue, so he licked her lips and replied, “Love ’em.”
“How many?”
“Ten.”
“Ten? Really?”
Walker didn’t really want to discuss kids at this moment, but he knew what this line of questioning was about. Persia had grown pensive and quiet their last days aboard the yacht. Knowing she’d almost become part of Goff’s harem—or whatever he called his ‘girls’—had changed something in her. She’d been asking different questions since then, questions about the cost of childcare, even Medicare, for hell’s sake.
Walker paused in his quest to propose and settled both hands on her hips. She needed to talk and he needed to listen. “Too many?”
“My sister has two boys.”
“Are you pregnant?” He wouldn’t mind if she was.
Breathing out a long sigh, she leaned into his chest and settled under his chin. “No, but I’ve never really wanted to be a mom. I had a career, everything I wanted. Until I met you.”
He noticed the tense in her verbs. Had. Wanted. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yes. Of course. Since I met you, I don’t drink anymore. I don’t even think about sneaking a flask into my bag, and I sleep better. I’m putting on weight. That’s got to stop, but the point—”
“You’re healing, sugar. You don’t have nightmares anymore, either. And you don’t turn the nightlight on when we go to bed.” Just saying those four words—we go to bed—brought a deep sigh up from Walker’s heart. He and Persia shared a bed, and sometimes, they actually slept in it.
“That’s because I’m with you.”
“And because you know I’ll never leave you again. You’re stuck with me, woman. From this day forward.” For better or for worse… Until death do us part… A lump formed in his throat at the unspoken question. Maybe if he just blurted it out…?
“Am I? Because I’ve always thought I was born for bigger, grander things than just motherhood and being a housewife. If I really meant to get ahead, I knew I had to be the toughest woman in the world. I brought Domingo Zapata down, damn it. I did that.”
“Yes, you did.” Walker let her own that dubious distinction. Her bringing Zapata down had nearly been the death of her peace of mind, but she didn’t need to be reminded of that.
“But now…” Lifting her chin, she stared into his eyes. “Do you know who’s tougher than both of us put together?”
Patiently, he settled both palms to the sides of her head, his fingers threaded in her hair. This dark-eyed beauty got him like no one else ever had. “Who, sugar?”
“Quinn Dooley and Alex and Kelsey, and Zack and Mei Lennox, and Mark and Libby Houston, and…” A sigh whooshed out of her. “And all the ordinary parents of the little girls Goff and Peckering were trafficking. All those little kids…” Another sigh. “Plain, everyday moms and dads are tougher than us, Walker.”
Damn. She was right. His eyes misted as he stared up at his queen. Whatever Persia wanted, she would have. All she had to do was ask. But first, she had to figure herself out. Children were a lifetime of joy and pain. They deserved to be wanted. Cherished. That meant a man and woman had to make compromises and changes. They had to alter their careers and future plans. Because babies really did change everything.
“You do know I love you,” he murmured, pouring his heart out to the only woman he’d ever loved. “And anything you decide is what I’ll do.”
“And you know I mean what I say.”
He smiled. “So what do you say, princess? Want to make babies? Because I will if you will.”
Leaning back on her butt, with her knees still snug beside his ribs, she said, “I just know I want… more. I feel like I’ve had my career ladder up against the wrong tree for a while now. I’ve done a lot with my life. I have, but I’ve watched my sister with her little boys, she’s got something I don’t. Then there’s Mark Houston and Libby. She’s a doctor and yet, they have five kids! Mark adores those girls. They both have crazy jobs, but they’re happy, and somehow, they’ve made it work. All you have to do is see them together and… Then there’s Izza and Connor and… I just don’t want to die without really living. Does that make sense?”
“Marry me,” Walker breathed. “When the day comes you’re sure—”
“I’m already sure,” she whimpered, melting onto his chest.
The sweet perfume in her hair messed with his brain. He nearly forgot what he needed to say. “I’m pushing forty,” he breathed, wanting her to think long and hard about their age difference before she decided. She hadn’t hit thirty yet.
“You’re thirty-nine. I read your file, remember?”
“But you’re still a kid.”
Wrong thing to say. She canted her head, a lethal sparkle in her brown eyes. “Excuse me?”
“I just meant I’m older. Ten years older. I’ll be decrepit while you’re still ready to dance.”
“So? Ten years means you’re finally emotionally mature. You’re ready to settle down. Besides, I’ve been missing something in my life, and that something is you, and—oh, damn.” Persia rolled to his side, straightened her dress, and covered her bare backside. “We’ve got company. Get up, honey.”
Not the answer Walker expected. He threw out his best two-year-old whine. “But I was up.” And you haven’t said yes yet.
She swatted his belly, making him jump. “Trust me, I was up for it, too. Now get moving because we’ve got company. Looks like Alex brought everyone. Hurry. The TEAM just landed.”
“Answer me first. Will you—?”
Persia fell into him, her arm around his neck in a stranglehold as she breathed, “Yes, I’ll marry you, but I want kids. Two to start with. A boy and a girl. Okay?”
His chest heaved. “Yes, ma’am. Two to start with, then we’ll go from there.”
“Now move it. The TEAM’s here, and they brought their kids.”
Walker lifted his head. This wasn’t how he’d wanted his proposal to end, but Persia was right. Alex was already standing on her dock like he owned the place. He was helping a tiny woman and a little girl, both with long dark hair, come off a magnificently huge, pontoon boat. Another man… Was that Zack Lennox? The son of a gun had jumped the boat and was tying mooring lines to the dock’s cleats. Looked like he knew what he was doing, too.
By then, a couple more pontoon boats had bumped the dock, and more athletic guys were ashore, mooring their boats. An outboard putted between two pontoon boats, bringing another man and a woman with red hair, along with two red-headed boys, to the party.
Walker (In the Company of Snipers Book 21) Page 41
