Crashing Into Jake

by Sara Blackard

  “Now you wisten to me, and you wisten to me now, mister.” Where did she come up with this stuff? “You are a handsome prince, just like the beast.”

  She slammed her chubby finger on the picture of the beast hidden in shadows. He should stick to the shadows as well. Few wanted the reminder his scarred face gave. He shook his head and focused on Eva.

  “Don’t you shake your head at me. I need cousins and lots of them.”

  Jake choked on spit as he inhaled sharply. “Cousins?”

  “Yes. If you get married, you’ll have babies, then I’ll get cousins.”

  “I don’t think anyone will want ugly ol’ me as a prince. Besides, I’m too cranky.” He tweaked her nose, hoping to distract her. “But go tell Sosimo about your plan. He’s already found and married his princess. You should tell them to hurry up.”

  Eva climbed onto his lap and put her tiny hands on both of his cheeks. The sorrow that pooled in her sparkling blue eyes nearly made him promise to rush off to wherever women hung out these days and round himself up a wife.

  “You are not ugly or cranky. Don’t talk mean like that. It’s not nice.”

  What a jerk he was. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  “You’re pretty and nice, and I love you, Uncle Jake.” She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed tightly.

  He held her and closed his eyes, glad for the moment to get the giant ball of emotion unstuck from his throat. The day his former Sergeant Major and now boss, Zeke Greene, had fallen and fallen hard for Eva’s mother had been the day that hope for a new tomorrow peeked into his heart. While he still wasn’t sure he could ever move past the ghosts that haunted him at night and be safe enough for a wife to be around, having women and children at the ranch helped him think less often of all he’d lost in the last mission he’d fought for the US Army.

  One would think it would’ve done the opposite, since all he had ever wanted was to serve his country with honor and marry someone who would be his rock to come home to. It was a family legacy that had started with his grandfather, one he’d wanted more than anything. But one mission, one moment in time, had shredded all his dreams to dust. At least here he could live vicariously through his friends’ lives, being a part of a family unit that had no blood ties.

  Rafe rushed into the room, a crease marring his normally jovial face. “Hey, Fairy Princess, I need to steal Uncle Jake away for important hero business. Why don’t you go find Tina? I think she’s working with that new dog of hers.”

  “Yeah!” Eva jumped in Jake’s lap, kissing him loudly on his scarred cheek before jumping down and racing off. “Be safe, my brave knights.”

  “We will, my fair lady.” Rafe waved to her and turned to Jake. “We’re heading to Steamboat. Can you be ready to fly in ten?”

  Jake nodded, his heart picking up with the intensity Rafe exuded. “What’s up?”

  “Davis Field just called—”

  “From the sandbox?” Wasn’t Davis still overseas?

  “Yeah. His baby sister is in some kind of trouble.” Rafe speared his hand through his normally perfect hair. “Well, I guess she’s not a baby anymore, and it’s more their cousin that’s in trouble.”

  “Rafe, breathe, man. What do you know?”

  “Some guy’s been stalking Chloe, Davis’s cousin. She’s an up-and-coming country singer. She’s in Steamboat for a music festival, and the creep followed them.” Rafe headed toward the door. “You’re flying us, and then you and I are playing babysitter.”

  Jake swallowed down his anxiety and followed Rafe out the door. He didn’t mind his new job as part of Zeke’s Stryker Security Force. Enjoyed it, surprisingly. The jobs he didn’t like were the famous ones. They always looked at him funny, like they’d just bitten into a sour candy. Worst were the women that curled their bodies away in fear.

  It shouldn’t surprise him. Since his injury, he’d gotten that reaction from most women no matter where he went. No, Eva shouldn’t get her hopes too high. He wouldn’t be finding his princess anytime soon. Jake scowled as the joyful morning tanked to gloom.

  Three

  Chloe tripped on a long skirt that dangled from the pile in her hands as she made her way down the stairs. Maybe she should’ve taken a smaller load? Or thrown the pile over the bannister. Yeah, that probably would’ve been smarter. Fewer trips up and down too. Not that Piper had that many clothes to bring down.

  “What are you doing?” Piper gaped at her from the couch where she flipped through a magazine.

  “Bonfire. Remember?”

  “Now?” Piper stood, her voice coming out like a squeak.

  “Yep.”

  “But what about the note? Shouldn’t we stay inside and wait for Zeke’s guys?”

  Chloe tossed the clothes on the entry floor and rushed back upstairs. She would not cower in fear inside like some burrowed animal. Piper had enough worry for the both of them. Besides, Piper said the two men from Stryker Security should be there within the next hour or so, and there was no way Piper would light ‘em up with guys around.

  “Go pile those in the fire pit on the porch,” Chloe hollered, making her way to Piper’s bedroom.

  Piper’s muttering made Chloe chuckle, unwinding the tight ball her guts had twisted into. Piper’s relay of the conversation with Zeke, the owner of Stryker Security, had helped too. He’d told them not to call the police until his men arrived. He wanted them protected before they let anyone in.

  She hated that this jerk could make her fear even the police. She’d seen enough thrillers to know all it took was the right uniform and—boom—caught heroine. She gathered the rest of Piper’s clothes and headed back downstairs just as Piper came from inside.

  “I’m glad you already changed. Who knows what these friends of Davis’s will look like?” Chloe wiggled her eyebrows as Piper blanched. “Why don’t you run upstairs and get the rest while I stack this stuff up?”

  Chloe had met enough of Davis’s friends to know that the possibility of them being good-looking ranked high. She and Piper had too often whispered behind their hands when they’d visit Davis on base. It might be shallow, but she hoped they got some cute ones. If they liked to flirt, they’d get bonus points. It’d be a shame to have a boring protector. If she had to have one, she wanted one that kept things interesting.

  She tossed the clothes on top of the fire pit and turned to find something to light the fire with. Wow, she definitely had watched The Bodyguard too many times in the hospital. The hospital had owned a handful of movies to choose from. Since the other four had been preschool cartoons, she and Piper had gotten really familiar with the romantic classic. In fact, they pretty much had it memorized. After Chloe had gotten back home, she’d sent the hospital a new library of movies.

  She needed to remember that life never happened like it did in the movies, and she definitely wasn’t gorgeous like Whitney Houston. She’d have to play it cool if she didn’t want to come across as some ogling ditz. Maybe it’d be better if Zeke sent some happily married old guys.

  “Okay. I also brought my grannie panties.” Piper’s cheeks pinked as she tossed them onto the pile. “No use keeping these with the insane amount of sexier ones you bought me. Not that anyone else but me will know.”

  “I’m telling you, pretty underwear builds confidence. And when you’ve snagged a guy and get married, he’ll like them just as much as you do.” Chloe whistled low and long. “Pip, you look stunning.”

  “Really? I feel …fat.”

  “Don’t even say that. Never again, Pip. You aren’t. Not even close. You have all the right curves in all the right places.” Chloe pushed on her cousin’s shoulder. “Men will drool for miles. It’s too bad you can’t sing to save your life. With you on the cover, we’d sell millions.”

  “Whatever.” Piper rolled her eyes and scrutinized the upcoming sacrifice.

  Honestly, the fact that the purchase of new clothes transformed the wilting wallflower
into an exotic orchid amazed Chloe. Piper’s looks had always been beautiful, but the clothes she would choose left her skin colorless and her body shapeless. The deep red sweater she wore now made the gold of her dark brown eyes stand out. Too bad a new wardrobe couldn’t transform Chloe. Nothing could help her curly blonde hair that celiac had thinned. Thank goodness she could pull off the pixie cut, otherwise she didn’t know what she’d do with the stringy strands.

  “Don’t you think I should donate these clothes instead of burning them?” Piper bent to pull some shirts from the pile.

  “Pip, you’ve been wearing these for so long, there’s no way anyone else could fit to your mold.”

  “You’re probably right.” Piper bit her bottom lip. “I think we should start out with half and add more as they burn down, though.” She glanced up at Chloe with a gleam in her eyes. “Wouldn’t want to catch the house on fire. Firefighters and bodyguards all in one day might be too much eye candy to take in.”

  “You can never have too much eye candy.”

  They worked together to build the perfect pyre with the grannie panties at the top. Piper squeezed a long stream of starter fluid over the clothes and scrunched her forehead.

  “Do you think that’s enough?” Piper turned the can over in her hand and read the directions again.

  “How should I know? Why don’t you toss a match on, and we’ll find out? If it doesn’t catch, you could always squeeze more on.”

  Piper set the can down on the table and lit a match. “Goodbye, dear friends. Thanks for wrapping me in comfort all these years, but it’s time to step out into a new me.”

  Chloe giggled as Piper bowed her head to the fire pit before tossing the match in. The whoosh of flames caused both women to shriek. Chloe’s heart stopped in her chest then ramped up to hyper-drive as the flames settled down to a normal height. She peered at Piper, whose eyebrows almost touched her hairline, and burst out laughing. Good thing Chloe had short hair or more than clothes might’ve caught on fire.

  Banging on the front door caused her to shriek again. Piper stepped around the fire pit to join Chloe next to the sliding porch door. Chloe gripped Piper’s shaking extended hand.

  “It can’t be them yet. It hasn’t been an hour,” Chloe whispered. Ridiculous, since whoever rapped on the door couldn’t hear her.

  Another knock made her heart jump from hyper-drive to supersonic hyper-drive.

  “What if it’s him?” Piper’s voice shook, steeling Chloe’s spine.

  This jerk wouldn’t get the satisfaction of her cowering. He certainly wouldn’t be pushing sweet Piper around. She already worried enough about Chloe’s health.

  “I hope it is. Then maybe I’ll have a friendly talk with him. Introduce him to the lovely ski pole I found earlier.”

  Chloe marched to the front door, muttering to herself that she didn’t need to fear a shadow. She peeked through the peephole to see two men. One had his back turned from the door and was scanning the area. The other scowled at the door like he could open it by sheer willpower. The tension from her shoulders relaxed. Surely these were the men from Stryker Security.

  “What’s the password?” Chloe cringed at the ridiculous saying that made her feel ten years old again. Her hope of a good impression slipped through her fingers, and she hadn’t even opened the door yet.

  The gruff man’s deep voice sliced through the door like a hot knife through butter. “Butterfingers and potbelly pigs.”

  Her skin tingled. How did he make that sound sexy? Focus, keep cool. She unbolted the door while she chanted in her head. You’re not Whitney. You’re not Whitney.

  The door felt like it weighed fifty pounds as she swung it open. Her gaze connected with the scowling man, and her knees wobbled. She may not be Whitney, but he knocked Kevin Costner out of the park. She stared, she knew it, but somehow couldn’t tear her gaze away. His light blue eyes reminded her of the hydrangeas her mother had planted by the house. He had his hair pulled back into a low bun and a scruffy beard covered his face. He towered over her petite frame in an imposing way that should’ve made her feel frightened but didn’t. His scowl deepened, and he scratched his cheek, drawing her attention to a large scar she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed.

  “Chloe?” A familiar voice turned her head to the other man.

  “Rafe?”

  Rafe Malone squeezed her into a tight hug, causing the other man to scowl even more. Davis’s best friend sure had grown up. He’d always stolen hearts with his funny charm and playful good looks, one heart in particular, but those looks had turned him from boy-next-door to hubba hubba. She darted a glance back at Piper, who stood frozen by the couch. The color had leeched out of her face, leaving Chloe to wonder if the couch held her cousin up.

  “Think we can move this reunion inside?” Tall, dark, and grumpy pushed Rafe on the back before scanning the neighborhood.

  Rafe picked her up with a growl and stepped into the house. Nope, the Army hadn’t trained the playfulness out of him completely. He placed her down and stepped back, his smile fading as he stared over her shoulder. He swallowed and cleared his throat.

  “Pipster?” His voice pitched low and his eyes about bugged out of his head.

  “Hey, Rafe. Long time, no see.” Piper’s voice came out calm and matter-of-fact, and Chloe almost cheered at her friend’s ability to play it cool though Chloe knew Piper was probably on the verge of fainting.

  “Too long, it seems.” Rafe crossed the room and pulled her into a hug, lingering a tad long to Chloe’s way of thinking. “You look amazing. Davis would flip a brick if he saw you now.”

  Chloe barely stifled a happy dance as she wiggled her eyebrows at Piper over Rafe’s shoulder. Her makeover hadn’t come at a more perfect time. Maybe now Rafe would notice what he’d been too dense to see as they grew up.

  “Do I smell smoke?” The rich, low voice right behind her startled a squeak out.

  She really needed to stop doing that. “Oh yeah, we were just … um…”

  The men marched to the back porch, completely zoned in on the threat out back. Piper whipped her frantic, pained face at Chloe. Shoot. Chloe rushed out behind the men to salvage the situation.

  “I told you this was a terrible idea.” Piper accentuated her told-you-so whisper with a jab to the ribs.

  “It’s fine. Just be cool.”

  “I’ve never been cool.”

  Piper’s groan of despair fell all the way to Chloe’s toes. She’d fix this. Somehow. The men stood frozen on the porch, staring at the smoking fire that had grown impressively tall since they’d lit it.

  Rafe’s partner tipped his head to the side. “Are those underwear?”

  Piper wilted in Chloe’s peripheral as she snatched up a handful of clothes left to burn and plopped them over the crown of perpetual embarrassment, smothering the flames to smoke. If Rafe hadn’t changed from the jokester they knew growing up, Piper would never hear the end of it.

  “Why are you two burning clothes? Some sort of demonstration or something?” Rafe coughed and waved the smoke from his face. He moved closer to Piper to get out of the fumes.

  “It’s a ceremonial pyre celebrating change.” Chloe ignored the way Piper threw a glare at her.

  “What change?” Rafe turned to Piper and scanned her up and down.

  To Piper’s credit, she didn’t squirm.

  “Well … um …” Come on, Chlo, think. “We didn’t bring the right clothes for the Colorado cold, so we got new ones.” She cringed at the ridiculous excuse.

  “You got new underwear for the Colorado cold?” Rafe asked in a tone that clearly said he thought they were crazy, which he stressed with a snort.

  She crossed her arms, determined to dry Mr. Chuckle Buddy’s humor right up. “No, we found this store with some sexy bits of lace we couldn’t pass up. No use keeping the cotton ones when you’ve got pretties to wrap yourself in. Though, I guess it’s not really wrapping, since there’s not much fabric there to begin wit
h.”

  She cocked her head to the side and gave him a demure smile. He adjusted his coat that he hadn’t taken off and cleared his throat. He peeked over at Piper. She stared into the fire while she rubbed the neckline of her sweater. She probably didn’t realize the self-comforting act drew Rafe’s stare like a moth to fire.

  “But why the fire? Why not just throw them away?” Her unnamed protector’s voice warmed her more than the now dying fire.

  She tipped her head to the side at the impotent flames. Who would’ve known that clothes could smother a fire so completely? They may have to get the lighter fluid back out. She turned her attention back to Grumpy Guard and smiled.

  She spread her arms wide, tipped her head back, and conjured up her most dramatic voice, which didn’t take much conjuring at all. “Sacrifices to the Goddess of Fashion, petitioning her for marvelous fits that drive men—”

  The fire whooshed into an impressive shot of flames. Chloe yelped and stumbled backward as blazing fingers licked her face. The pile of clothes still waiting to perish wrapped around her foot and tripped her. This backward tumble would hurt. She cringed as she braced for impact.

  Arms of solid steel wrapped around her and pulled her against an equally powerful chest. A comforting scent of spices, oranges, and the woods wafted from him. She looked up into eyes that weren’t glaring but held concern. She was so pulling a Whitney. Crushing on your bodyguard proved too easy to avoid.

  “I’ve got you.” His words curled her toes.

  Oh boy, you do.

  His eyes widened before his scowl slammed back into place. Did she just say that out loud? She cringed as he righted her. Maybe she shouldn’t have thought about that stupid movie so much this last hour. Maybe then her brain would keep thoughts in instead of words out.

  Besides, Whitney and Kevin’s story ended with no one happy. She’d had enough of that to last two lifetimes. She dreamed of strong arms around her through years of life, not just a moment, and children’s laughter as the soundtrack. So instead of fantasizing about how Kevin Costner held Whitney to slow dance, she needed to replay the end with him all alone. Maybe then she’d keep her perspective straight.