by Louise Dawn
Max was by her side in a flash, tucking Gabe under his arm and stroking her hair. “Easy now, baby. Shallow breaths, you’ll be okay.”
Abby breathed through the pain before grasping his strong hand in hers. Max laid a sleeping Gabe by her side.
He described her injuries, one cracked rib, a badly bruised cheekbone and a stitched-up shoulder wasn’t a bad outcome considering she’d gone head to head with international extremists and survived the bloody war. A nurse then kicked him out, fussing over her vitals for the next thirty minutes. After that, the doctor traipsed in, followed by the warrior Asgard gang, needing a debriefing on what had gone down after Max and Abby were separated. Noleen then settled by the foot of her bed.
All of the excitement wore her out. All she’d wanted was quality time with her son and to have a simple conversation with Max. When they were finally alone, Abby drifted off into oblivion only to wake the following morning feeling like she’d been dragged through a hedge backward by a raging stallion, who tossed her to the ground, trampling over her tender body with giant hooves.
“Ouch,” she groaned without opening her eyes to the throbbing ache that was her body.
Max yelled for a nurse, and when one walked into the room a minute later, Abby heard the irritation in his voice as the attendant rifled through charts. “She’s in pain. Stop fannying about and get her something.”
Abby grinned inside. “Fannying about” was a British saying she’d adopted in South Africa. Max had obviously inherited the verbiage from her, and it sounded damn cute coming from him. She heard the poor woman scurrying around like she was about to get shot. The man was formidable, and she sympathized. No one wanted to be on the wrong side of that frosty glare.
Max spoke softly in her ear as he traced it with his thumb in that touching way. The muttered sweet nothings and the occasional kiss on her forehead kept her eyes closed. At some point, she’d need to put her big girl panties on and emerge painfully from her cocoon. A girl needed to pee and freshen up before facing a room full of tall warriors, and one adorable kiddo who needed attention. Besides, she needed to scrub the terror of the past couple of days off her skin.
“Where’s Gabriel?”
“With Noleen in the cafeteria, having his breakfast. That kid sure can eat.”
“He does love his food. There’s not a fussy bone in his little body. I need him with me.”
“You need to rest. You’ve been in the hospital for fourteen hours; your body hasn’t even begun to heal.”
“Stop making a mountain out of a damn molehill. I’m getting my shit together, and I’m starting with a shower.”
Ignoring the protesting alpha male in the room, Abby climbed onto wobbly legs before an unkempt Max with five o’clock stubble pretty much carried her into the bathroom. The nurse hovered close by as she negotiated through painful ablutions. A toothbrush, underwear, new pajama set, and a hairbrush sat on the counter. Looking at the mirror came as a shock; half her face was swollen. Butterfly stitching stood out starkly on pale skin.
When Abby was done, Max helped her back into bed. He’d retreated into that remote shell, the clandestine operator mode that made him seem like he had the world on his shoulders.
Abby reached out for his hand, and he grasped it tightly. “How’s the ankle?”
“I’m on pain meds, feels fine.”
“You look exhausted. How much sleep did you get?”
“Very little. I was on the phone with Washington and HQ for half the night.”
His calloused hand enveloped hers. Abby examined his fingers, running a thumb over his broad palm. It felt so good to touch him again. The temptation to crawl into his lap and hibernate for the next decade was strong. She craved this man, regardless of the solitary look in those polar eyes. The loaded stillness built as she waited for Max to say what was on his mind.
He finally spoke. “I screwed up. And—”
“That’s the fourth time I’ve heard that in the last twenty-four hours. Do operators apologize after all their missions?”
A flash of uncertainty flitted across Max’s face.
“Last night Noleen told me that she’d screwed up by not rescuing me from Roman before saving Gabriel. I told her what she already knew. Gabe always comes first.”
“You had it under control. Shit, you stabbed Roman in the fucking neck. I pray there’ll never be a next time, but if there is, pull the knife out immediately. With that move, he would’ve bled out in seconds.”
“You took care of him with the head shot.”
“We both took care of him, and I should’ve got there sooner.”
“Slater snuck in after the doctor left, to tell me that he’d screwed up by not taking Khalid out quickly, something about the wind screwing with accuracy. Like I would want him to risk an unclear shot with Gabe in the mix.”
Max stroked her arm. “Slater’s timing was faultless.”
“Exactly. Oh, and John says he’s screwed up with Lizzy. I’m not debating that one, we’ve both burnt that bridge. And then there’s me. I must’ve screwed up a dozen times in the last couple of days.”
“Granted, that stunt you pulled on the aircraft has given me grey hairs, but it gave us time to catch up. You are so brave, it blows my damn mind.”
“I did kick altitude ass! I also killed a man.”
“I know, Abs. You didn’t have a choice.”
“I can’t talk about it, not yet.”
“At some point, you’ll need to.”
Abby gave him a halfhearted fist pump. “Yay, more therapy.” She paused before tackling the elephant in the room. “So how have you screwed up?”
“What I said, in that concrete prison, was way off base. To think for even a second, you’d elope with Kris to save yourself was absurd. I don’t blame you, if you never want to see me again.”
Abby took a breath. “It was ridiculously way off base. I told you that I love you. I don’t love easily. You were anchored to the floor like a circus animal, watching me slip away, so I get it. Words shouted in fear would never extinguish what I feel for you.”
Max did his soul-staring thing with freaky eyes as Abby drew the back of his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles.
“Did your accusations hurt? Yes. I kept running over what you said, but you were in a bad place, physically and mentally. We both were.”
Max pulled his hand back to tuck a curl behind her ear. “I acted like a dick to the one person who means the most to me, and I stayed behind while they broke you.”
“I’m not broken. For the first time in years, I was no longer afraid. I was in control and whole again. My only fear was that they’d hurt or kill you. When I woke up yesterday I felt incredible. I went head to head with a heartless terrorist and came out on top.” She giggled. “Like I’d completed the most difficult triathlon on the planet. Hell, I actually ate a handful of darn crickets!”
Max smiled. “Let me guess, you feel like Wonder Woman.”
“Actually, the nerd in me feels like the Nike of Samothrace.”
Max ran his lips over hers. “Just two nerds colliding and getting their freak on.”
“I like the sound of that.” Abby wrapped her good arm around his neck.
“Easy there, Nike. No freaky stuff is happening until you’re properly healed.”
“Gosh darn it.” Abby patted his cheek playfully. “So, what’s next, once I’m mobile?”
“We still travel to Camp Lemonnier. That’s the hard shit. You’ll be taken in for questioning.” Max must have sensed the panic. “I won’t leave you, and I’ll make every arrangement in my power to keep Gabe safe. You’re more of an asset, rather than a suspect.”
“How long will it take?”
“Anywhere from a couple of days, to a week or even a month.”
“And then?”
“And then we get to start our life together.”
“Are you sure you want this?”
“I fucking love you. I love that you’re smar
t and funny. I love how your creative brain works. I love your independent and down-to-earth attitude. That mix of passion and serenity that runs through your veins fascinates me. And I’m just going to say this, your son is freaking adorable. I want to be the best role model for him. I want the hard shit and the happy shit all rolled into one.”
Abby ran her hand over his brow. “Well, you certainly know how to make a girl all gooey inside.”
“Abs, it won’t be easy. I’ll be deployed for months at a time. I’m a military man, and love what I do. When I am home, I may not always be the perfect partner, I’m bull-headed, and can be a bit of a loner. I’m bossy at times, but willing to learn. I give you full permission to kick my ass when I drop the ball.”
The bossy remark had Abby grinning. “I’m not so sure about two bossy nerds stepping on each other’s toes.”
Max kissed her jawline and slowly made his way down to her neck. God, he was so incredibly good at that. He nibbled her ear. “Is that a yes, Evans?”
“That’s a ‘hell yes!’ Hansen.”
Max paused. “It’s actually Andersen. Erik Andersen at your service.”
“Well, Mr. Andersen, are you as good of a kisser as Hansen is?”
“Mmm. Debatable. As long as you rest those ribs, I’ll let you be the judge. Tell me if this hurts your sore little cheek.”
Kissing Max for the next twenty minutes was blissful torture. His expert tongue gently plundered her mouth, leaving him visibly hard and her frustrated.
“This is going to be a long couple of weeks,” Abby sighed.
Max slid a hand under the blanket and found her clit, stroking it once, then twice before whispering in her ear. “Think of it as foreplay. I’ll touch you every day, until we’re both ready to go insane, then when you’re healed, I’m going to fuck you so thoroughly, with my mouth and my dick, that you’ll be coming for days.”
With a quick kiss on her nose, Max was out the door. Well, that took her mind off the aches and pains. Abby grinned at the ceiling. That sounded like fun, and fun wasn’t a word she’d ever used to describe her life. No more stormy shadows, it was all breezy sunshine on the road ahead.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Johannesburg.
Four weeks later.
That damn dog wouldn’t be able to fight its way out of a paper packet, never mind protect his Lizzy. Johnny watched her mom’s little rat dog take a shit on the sidewalk, before his blonde beauty bent over with a poop bag to sweep up the steaming parcel. Johnny paused to take in the spectacular view that was Lizzy’s incredible ass. Perky butt cheeks shaped beautifully by faded skinny jeans. Her retro outfit included a Michael Jackson “Thriller” T-shirt, silver sneakers, fire-engine lipstick and a bandana holding back curls.
Where was she taking the ankle biter? There were no parks nearby plus she carried a bright red handbag. Not the wisest choice on the streets of Jo’burg, yet she wandered down the street like she was strolling through Central Park. Granted, it was a suburban area, but it wasn’t safe. Lizzy dropped the bag of rat droppings into a neighbor’s garbage can, then wiped her hands with a wet wipe. Her phone beeped and she fished it out of her bag, pausing to type out a message.
“Woman!” Johnny wanted to yell. “Pay attention to your surroundings!” Finally, she pocketed the phone before continuing on the walk.
As Lizzy rounded the corner, Johnny turned the car on, following from a safe distance. He’d landed a few hours before. This was a personal trip—he’d rented a vehicle before heading for her parents’ home, arriving about the same time as she slipped out of the front gate.
A couple of blocks later, Lizzy walked into a strip mall parking lot, heading straight for a food truck parked in the corner, before buying a hotdog and a Coke. She sat on an outdoor bench that had seen better days. The Chihuahua was on the receiving end of some intermittent meaty titbits, as she scrolled through her social feeds.
Johnny turned the engine off. It was time for the talk. The one needed to tie up loose ends. The conversation he prayed would keep him centered in her world. Clammy hands were a new experience for him and he swiped them over his jeans. Suck it up, dickhead, and make this right.
Johnny opened the door and paused.
Two scooter ass punks sidled up to Lizzy. Greasy-haired teenagers with pants sitting halfway down their legs. One of the dickbags, donning a hooped nose piercing, propped his foot up on the seat next to her and leaned in. She folded her arms defensively. The other, with blue-tipped hair, bent over to pick up the dog.
Johnny slammed the car door, flexing his muscles as he zeroed in, marking the ringleader. Definitely Mr. Nose Candy, who was now gesturing wildly in her face.
A split second before he stepped between her and the juvie, Lizzy’s wide eyes registered shock.
“Back off. Now!” Johnny barked.
“What are you doing here?”
Johnny’s only focus was establishing a safe perimeter.
“What the hell, dude!” The punk straightened.
“I said BACK THE FUCK OFF.”
The teenager stumbled back, his surprise evident before quickly recovering his bravado. “Who the hell are you?”
“None of your damn business.” Johnny flicked a glance at the second kid still holding the highly-strung rat. “Give her back the dog.”
“John, don’t be an ass, Curtis lives on my street.”
“You know these punks?”
Lizzy moved to stand next to Mr. Nose Candy aka Curtis. “Yes, they’re on summer vacation for a couple of weeks. They’ve come home from boarding school.”
“Why were you arguing with Curtis?”
“He was supposed to mow our lawn on Sunday and he didn’t show up. So guess who was the plonker, who ended up having to do all the work!” Lizzy glared at Curtis.
“I’ll make it up to you. I swear it.”
“My father and I will not be paying for the yardwork you’re doing on Saturday. If you don’t show up, I’ll be having a little chat with your old man.”
Johnny hid a smile. She sounded like a real schoolmarm.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And are you back to smoking weed?”
“No. I’m trying real hard. By the way, thanks for the tech gig, I’m working the eight o’clock shift tomorrow.”
Lizzy gave him a brief nod. “I’ll see you on Saturday. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I need to talk to this beef bazooka in private.”
Curtis snickered as the two boys ambled away.
Johnny folded his arms. “Beef bazooka, really?”
Lizzy knelt down and tethered the pooch’s leash to the table leg. “I was going for Hulk Hogan, but that seemed mean, even coming from me.”
“What did he mean by a tech gig?”
“What’s with you suddenly being all up in my business? Oh, I forgot, that’s your thing, inserting yourself into other people’s lives without their permission.”
Ouch.
“What did he mean, Lizzy?”
“It’s no great secret. I work from time to time on cars with my dad. Curtis wanted to learn more about mechanics. I got him a part-time job at a local mechanic shop.” Lizzy gathered the hotdog packet and napkin before throwing it in the bin.
“I didn’t know you worked on cars.”
“There’s lots you don’t know about me. What do you want?”
“Just to talk.”
“You flew halfway across the planet to talk. I was okay with just the text you sent, after rescuing Abby. I’m glad she’s safe.”
“She misses you.”
“The moment she lied to me, our friendship was over.”
“She was trying to protect her son and you at the same time.”
“Yet I landed smack bang in the middle of a shootout.”
“We all messed things up when it came to you.”
“Story of my life.” The bitter edge was hard to hide and Lizzy turned away, concealed emotions smacking Johnny square in the chest.
; “I love you.” There. He’d said it. It was out in the open. Again.
When Lizzy didn’t answer, he continued, “I’ve thought about you every day since I saw you last. I can’t get you… get us…out of my head, and I worry about you constantly. You live in a dangerous city. I’m shit scared that you’ll be hijacked or hurt, and I’ll be thousands of miles away.”
He stepped up to her delicate back, daring to stroke her shoulders with his broad hands. She smelled like sun-kissed peaches and hope.
Lizzy moved away. “In two weeks I’m leaving Johannesburg, so you don’t have to worry.” Sarcasm laced her words.
“Are you moving to Cape Town?” It was a slightly safer option.
“I’m leaving the country.”
“You’re going back to the States?”
“Nope.”
Hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention. “Where the hell are you going, London?” He knew she had an uncle in the UK.
“Kenya.”
“What the fuck will you be doing in Kenya?”
“Can you please watch your language?”
“Answer the fucking question.” Lizzy’s reticence in not answering had Johnny’s shit barometer dinging away. “Lizzy, talk to me.”
“I need to find myself, and I can’t do it here. I need a fresh start.”
“You’re an American citizen. Go to America, there are multiple states to choose from.”
“I want to be a flight attendant. Abby mentioned her flying career once and it sounded so glamorous. I’ll get to travel and explore new places.”
Shit, there weren’t any topnotch international airlines based out of Kenya. There was certainly nothing glamorous about the state-run airline. “What the hell did you do?”
“I have a job with a private security contractor called JetHaven. They provide specialized and tailored services to accommodate VIP, diplomatic and crisis flights.”
“I know what they do.” Johnny wanted to punch something and paced wildly before turning on Lizzy. “Let’s start with the residing in East Africa thing. Kenya is one of the thirty countries that the DSS deems high-threat nations. That means it’s rife with terrorism. It’s an extremist hotspot.”
