Mistletoe (K19 Security Solutions Book 3)

by Heather Slade

  He’d been able to bury his feelings for years because Alegria had never been his. She still wasn’t, not really. She was too stubborn to admit she wanted Mantis back in her life, but one day she would, and that would leave him the odd man out. One would think that knowing it was an inevitability, he’d walk away now, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her.

  —:—

  Alegria tried to roll over, but her body didn’t want to cooperate. She needed a pain pill, but didn’t want to ask Dutch to bring one to her.

  If she’d been cleared to travel by plane, she would’ve flown to France and recuperated at her parents’ house, but that long of a flight was out of the question so soon after her surgery—the outcome of which was far better than the doctors had initially hoped.

  The damage to her spinal cord was significant enough that they’d told her going in that she may have long-term paralysis. When she came to, she could move all her extremities without any difficulty. The kind of pain she was experiencing now, however, they’d warned might be a constant in her life from now on.

  Instead of feeling sorry for herself—and she was—she should be thankful she wasn’t paralyzed.

  Without realizing how dead-on the random shot he’d fired had been, Petrov had hit her in the back as she was walking away. If she’d been facing his direction, his bullet likely would’ve killed her.

  “Mon coeur.” The words Mantis had said to her when she woke from surgery echoed in her head. How lovely they’d sounded, coming from his lips, but what had she done? As soon as she realized Dutch was in the room too, she’d reached out to him, essentially pounding the last nail into the coffin that had once been her life with the man who would hold her heart forever.

  “You’re awake,” said Dutch, opening the door to the room.

  “Yes.”

  “Time for some pain relief.”

  He handed her a white pill and a glass of water.

  “Merci,” she murmured.

  “You need more rest,” he said, stroking her forehead.

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after two in the afternoon.”

  “The pain…”

  “I know. Rest.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be back to check on you in a bit. If you need anything else, ring the bell.”

  “Wait. Dutch?”

  He was almost through the bedroom door but came back to her bedside.

  “Have you…”

  “Ask the question, sweetheart.”

  “Does Mantis know I’m out of the hospital?”

  “He does.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll be back later.”

  He left the room and closed the door behind him. Had she hurt his feelings by asking about Mantis? Why had she, anyway?

  —:—

  The flight had been quick and easy. The plane was now parked in the hangar at the San Luis Obispo airfield, and soon he’d be in a rental car on his way to Cambria. Any temptation he had to see Alegria would be thwarted by distance.

  The drive was as easy as the flight had been; there was virtually no traffic. Mantis guessed that later in the week he wouldn’t have been so lucky.

  He pulled into the inn’s parking lot and walked over to the office to check in.

  “Are you here for the holiday?” asked the woman behind the front desk.

  “I am.”

  “We have an unusually high number of guests this year who are. In fact, we’re fully booked like the rest of the inns on Moonstone Beach.”

  Mantis nodded. “I got lucky.”

  “You did. A man just called, wanting a room, and we had to turn him away.”

  Not interested in further small talk, he didn’t respond until she handed him his room key and he thanked her.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here too,” said Striker, walking past the office with a woman who looked familiar. “Happy Thanksgiving. Mantis, you know Aine McNamara, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand. “Happy Thanksgiving to you both.”

  “I guess we’ll catch up with you later,” said Striker, walking toward one of the rooms, holding Aine’s hand in his.

  “Sure thing,” he murmured, but they were already too far away to hear him.

  Striker and the McNamara twin? When had that begun? Mantis shook his head. It really wasn’t any of his business. If his chest didn’t hurt with loneliness, he probably wouldn’t have given the two of them a second thought.

  Maybe coming to Cambria for the holiday hadn’t been such a good idea. He couldn’t have stomached being the third wheel between Alegria and Dutch, but this might be just as bad. What if he was the only single guy here?

  —:—

  Dutch scrubbed his face with his hand, lamenting his relationship with Alegria for the thousandth time. If he hadn’t walked into the bar that night and found her drunk enough that he knew he had to take her home, maybe the thing that should never have started between them, wouldn’t have.

  If he were a better man, he never would’ve slept with her in the first place. Instead, he was the shithead who had lusted after and longed for his best friend’s girlfriend for years. When the opportunity presented itself, he’d swept in like some kind of goddamn vulture.

  Having her in his bed had been like a dream come true. No matter how many times his conscience told him he should end it, he hadn’t been able to.

  “Hey, you,” Dutch said, surprised to see Alegria walking into the kitchen.

  “Hi. I thought maybe I should eat something.”

  “Of course. Have a seat, and I’ll heat up some soup. Sound good?”

  She nodded and looked out the window.

  “Thanksgiving is in three days. We’ve been invited up to Cambria to have dinner with Razor, Gunner, and the rest of the crew.”

  “Okay.”

  “Sound good?”

  “Sure. Who else will be there?”

  “I don’t know, exactly, but my guess is you’re asking about Mantis, and he won’t be. He’s going to Connecticut.” He set the steaming bowl of soup in front of her and watched as she took three spoonfuls and then rested the spoon on the side of the bowl.

  “I’m not as hungry as I thought.”

  “You can have more later.”

  Alegria shuffled back to the bedroom, leaving Dutch wondering if the news about Mantis being on the East Coast for Thanksgiving had ruined her appetite.

  —:—

  The first Thanksgiving she spent in America was at Mantis’ parents’ house in Connecticut. He’d invited her to go along when he realized that, as an international student, she’d be staying at the academy with a handful of other people for the holiday.

  She was nervous on the flight, and he reassured her.

  “My parents are really nice. You don’t have to worry. They’ve always been great about me inviting friends to the house,” he said.

  “Is that what we are, Cadet Cassman?”

  “What would you like us to be, Cadet Mondreau?” He smiled, leaned closer, and kissed her.

  Later that night, Mantis sneaked into the room where she was sleeping, and she’d lost her virginity.

  From that trip on, they’d been a couple. Sure, they’d broken up and gotten back together several times after they graduated. There were times she thought they’d never speak again, like she did now. They’d always wound up back together, though. Would this be the one time they didn’t?

  Chapter 6

  Zary and Gunner

  “We aren’t eating until four. You’ll feel better by then. Don’t worry—your mom, my mom, and I got this.”

  Zary smiled. There were so many things she loved about Gunner, but none more than how he was with her mother.

  Little by little, they left the translation app behind and communicated in a mix of English and Azeri. Today, Gunner and his mom, Madeline, were teaching her how to make stuffing for the turkey. Zary could hear him asking her mom to read the ingredients
out loud. She struggled, but Madeline helped her sound out the words.

  They were responsible for bringing the turkeys over to Razor’s while other guests pitched in with side dishes and pies. At least that’s what Gunner had told her was happening.

  Their combined guest list had grown to a number Zary was unsure of, but most of them were staying at inns along Moonstone Beach rather than at the duplex. Even Gunner’s sister had opted to stay at one of the inns so their mother could stay at the house.

  Every morning, Gunner brought a tray in with a bowl of cereal and a banana; the only thing she could keep down before noon.

  “I can get it myself,” she’d say again and again.

  “Let me take care of you,” Gunner would respond each time.

  “Good morning,” Madeline said, poking her head in the bedroom doorway.

  Zary smiled. Gunner’s mother was one of the nicest people she’d ever met, exhibiting no signs that Gunner inherited his grouchiness from her. His sister, Odette, was just as nice.

  “Good morning,” Zary responded.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better,” she answered, waving her hand over the breakfast tray Gunner had delivered.

  “I can take that if you’re finished.”

  “I can get it.” Zary started to get up.

  “Let us take care of you,” Madeline said, making Zary smile. “What?” she asked.

  “That’s what Gunner always says. I should get up anyway.”

  “I remember feeling the same way you do when I was pregnant. I’ll tell you what my mother told me.”

  “What is that?”

  “Once this baby is born, you’ll no longer be able to stay in bed when you don’t feel well. For eighteen years, maybe longer, you’ll have to take care of someone else before yourself. Rest, relax, and sleep while you can.”

  “Thank you,” Zary murmured. She understood Madeline’s words, but before Gunner, it had been a very long time since anyone had taken care of her. It was a difficult concept to get used to, especially coming from so many people.

  In addition to Gunner and his mother, her own mother, Odette, and even Ava and Aine fussed over her.

  “I don’t know why I feel so tired,” Zary confessed to Madeline. “I feel like all I’ve done is sleep.”

  “That’s because your baby is sapping everything he or she needs from your body,” said Ava, joining Madeline in the bedroom’s doorway.

  “You’re both welcome to come in…”

  “I need to go check on Gunner, your mom, and the turkeys. I’ll take your tray and come back a little later,” said Madeline.

  “You’re sure I’m not intruding?” asked Ava.

  “Definitely not.” Zary pulled the covers up and tucked her arms under them.

  “Are you cold?” Ava asked.

  “A little.”

  “This is one of the things I love about this place. Razor and I have a fireplace in the bedroom too.” Ava flipped a switch. “This will help. It is chilly in here.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is there anything else you need?”

  Zary smiled again. “You’re pregnant too.”

  “I’m further along than you are, though.”

  “Doesn’t that mean you should be more tired than I am?”

  Ava smiled too, and then studied her.

  “What?”

  “Sometimes I feel like I’m looking in a mirror, and then at other times, I don’t think we look anything alike.”

  “I’ve seen it too.”

  “You have?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I wonder if…maybe I’m pushing you too hard.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No, don’t be,” Ava gasped. “I didn’t say that to make you feel bad.”

  “I haven’t had a lot of female…relationships. I haven’t had many relationships at all.”

  “Your life hasn’t been easy.”

  Her chest tightened. “Yours hasn’t been either. Gunner told me about the boarding school.”

  “Yeah. Although, I had Aine.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry about your father.”

  “Did you think of him that way?”

  “No.”

  “Neither did we. It’s like our dad died before Petrov did. Does that make sense?”

  “It does. My father died when I was a small child.”

  “Your mom is very nice.”

  Willing her tears away, Zary closed her eyes and rested her head against the pillow.

  “It’s okay to cry,” Ava whispered.

  When she opened her eyes, Ava was crying too.

  “I’m sorry,” Zary said again.

  “Please don’t be.” Ava sat on the side of the bed. “Would you mind if I hugged you?”

  Zary shook her head. “I’d like that.”

  “Hey, what about me?” she heard someone say.

  Both Zary and Ava looked up and saw Aine had come into the room.

  “Get over here, girl,” Ava told her sister, pulling her into their hug.

  —:—

  “Can I help?”

  Gunner looked up from chopping celery and saw Striker standing in his kitchen. He stifled a groan.

  “You can do the onions,” he grunted at the man.

  Striker laughed and walked over to the sink to wash his hands.

  “Who’s this?” asked his mom.

  “Mom, meet Striker,” Gunner said without looking up.

  He rolled his eyes when he heard his mom say, “Nice to meet you.”

  “I’m not your son’s favorite person,” Striker told her.

  “Knock it off,” Gunner grumbled. “I don’t like anyone.”

  “Except Zary,” said his mother.

  “No, Mom. I don’t like Zary, I love her. And I love you too.” He kissed her cheek.

  “See? He can be sweet.”

  Gunner pointed to the pile of onions. “Get busy,” he told Striker before getting back to chopping the celery.

  “What’s wrong?” he heard his mother say.

  He looked up to see Zary’s mom join them; she was crying.

  Even if he’d gotten his translation app turned on in time to catch what she was saying, Gunner doubted it would’ve picked much up as emotional as she was.

  He watched as she pointed down the hall and was about to bound to their bedroom when he heard her say, “Sisters.”

  “Oh,” cried his mother, whose own eyes filled with tears.

  Gunner set the knife down, walked down the hallway, and looked inside the room in time to see Zary, Ava, and Aine hugging.

  “Damn,” he heard Striker mumble from behind him and turned around to see him wiping a tear away.

  As tempted as he was to give the man shit about it, he didn’t. It was a beautiful moment to witness.

  “How long has it been goin’ on?” he asked Striker once they were back in the kitchen.

  “It hasn’t. Not really. We met at Ava and Razor’s wedding.”

  “But she invited you to Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “We’re giving it a go.”

  “Be careful, Striker. She’s family.”

  “I really like her, Gunner.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Get to work.”

  A few minutes later, his mom came back into the kitchen with Zary’s mother, Svetlana, who walked over and showed him her phone.

  Rauf will be here tomorrow was written on the screen.

  “That’s good,” Gunner responded, not knowing what else to say, especially when the woman smiled.

  Life had certainly turned into a shitstorm of weirdness in the last six months, and there was nothing he could do but go along for the ride. Former CIA agents were hanging out with former Russian assassins; people he’d never dreamed would be standing in his kitchen were, and the woman he loved more than life itself was in the bedroom with his baby growing inside of her.

  When he’d talked to Zary about her saying she wasn’t sure she
wanted to have a baby, she told him that wasn’t what she meant.

  “I’m not saying I don’t. I’m saying I don’t know how to feel, Gunner.”

  “But you want to have the baby?” he’d asked for reassurance.

  “Yes. I just told you I did.”

  It wasn’t exactly what she’d said, but he was smart enough to drop it at the time.

  Either way, he had a hell of a lot to be thankful for this year.

  —:—

  “I want details,” Ava said to Aine as she walked over and closed the bedroom door.

  Zary looked between the two.

  “I really like him,” Aine admitted.

  “Who?” Zary asked.

  “Striker. She brought him with her.”

  “He met me here, but you’re right, I invited him.”

  Zary nodded. “They’re seeing each other.”

  “Wait,” said Ava. “You know already?”

  Zary nodded again. “He’s a good man.”

  Aine shrugged. “He is. Although…”

  “What?” asked Ava.

  “Gunner doesn’t like him.”

  “That isn’t true,” Zary told them. “He respects him. It’s just that Gunner struggles with telling people how he feels.”

  “You really love him,” said Ava.

  “I do. I have for a very long time. Years, in fact.”

  “Wait. How?”

  Zary told them about the day she first saw him, and how she’d risked her own life instead of killing him. “If anyone had found out I let him go, I would’ve been killed.”

  “What happened next?” asked Aine.

  “Nothing. I didn’t see him again for a long time, but I always knew he was the man I was meant to be with. I know now that he felt the same way.”

  “Oh my God. That’s so romantic,” gushed Ava.

  “I’m so glad for you,” added Aine. “You and Gunner both deserve to be happy.”