Hero - The Ambush: Special Forces Romance

by Parker, M. S.

I knew there was no use arguing with him. He did what he was told, like a good little soldier. Dean wouldn't stand up for me, wouldn't make Haze go away. He was a coward. Haze wasn't a coward. He wasn't afraid of anything. Hell, he didn't feel anything.

  My eyes met his and I set my jaw. I'd go with him, but that didn't mean I'd like it.

  Chapter 15

  Haze

  I slammed the car door behind Leighton and kicked the back tire as I walked around to the driver's seat. The image of her on the black marble countertop was seared into my brain, and I blinked against the sting.

  The man's shiny black hair, his face buried between her creamy thighs, the look of pleasure on her face.

  I pushed the images away. All that mattered was that Leighton was okay, that she was safe. The man she'd been with wasn't a kidnapper. Still, the image of them together constricted my throat and I coughed sharply as I got in the car.

  I smelled the marijuana on her, the alcohol on her breath, and I told myself the only reason I'd found her...that way was that she'd been too drunk and high to know what she'd been doing. A voice in my head reminded me that Leighton was free to flirt or fuck anyone she chose. I had no claim on anything she did. If anyone was allowed to be upset, it'd be that asshole Ricky. He was her boyfriend. He was the only one who had the right to be angry that she'd been fooling around with some stranger.

  Except I didn't want to see her with Ricky either. I didn't want to see anyone with her. Anyone but me.

  Leighton was slumped against the car window, as far from me as possible, her legs tucked tightly under her. Her dress rode high above her knees and I imagined her legs stretching out, how her firm muscles would move, her thighs part, the hem inching up. That's what that asshole Dean Phillips must have seen when she'd left with him. The hot thrust of need was accompanied by a sharp stab of jealousy.

  Shit.

  I couldn't deny it anymore. I was jealous of anyone who could caress Leighton, catch her scent, kiss her lips, or press against her warmth...

  Fuck me.

  As we drove back through LA and up into the hills toward her grandfather's mansion, I thought back over the failed evening. Over the memories Ian's departure had brought back. The fear when I'd realized she was gone. The disappointment in Devlin's eyes.

  After I'd left Ricky in his hotel room, one of the images I'd seen flashed into my head, and I'd known what direction to search. Leighton would've wanted a fast getaway, and I'd seen a fast car racing away around the time she'd vanished. From there, I'd used Devlin's name and my own intimidation to get an address, arriving at the condo just in time to see Leighton clinging to her 'friend.'

  They'd laughed and groped their way to the elevator, and then I'd watched him take a drag from a joint and lean toward her. The elevator doors had closed before I'd actually seen the kiss, but I'd known what was coming.

  I should have stayed in the lobby, content that Leighton didn't appear to be stressed, but I hadn't exactly been thinking straight. All I'd been able to see was that man's hands pressing on the small of her back and I'd run up the twelve flights of stairs to the penthouse.

  “You broke down his door,” Leighton said suddenly, breaking through my thoughts. Her words weren't slurred, but they were definitely fuzzy. “You're going to have to pay for that. Doubt Grandfather will foot that bill.”

  “That's all you have to say?” I asked.

  “I'm not the one who broke into a man's penthouse like a demented bull,” she said. Her voice had a sing-song quality to it, making her sound almost innocent, child-like.

  “No, you're just the one who didn't bother to think about anyone else tonight.” I didn't bother to curb the edge to my words. I'd never said these things to her before, but she needed to hear it. “You're just the selfish brat who turned her brother's going-away party into a three-ring circus so the attention was on her.”

  Leighton smirked at me and crossed her arms. “Actually, I did the opposite.”

  She looked so pleased with herself that I wanted to shake her. I contented myself with a question. “You mean pretend you were drunk so we wouldn't suspect you could sneak away and endanger your life?”

  “Endanger my life?” She let out a bitter laugh. “No, that's what Ian's doing. That's what you encouraged my brother to do.”

  “Your brother has given his life over to serve this country,” I said, letting my disgust come through. “You gave yourself to a man with a mid-life crisis car and a vial of coke.”

  “And what does that matter?” she asked. “No one really cares what I do, just as long as I take my trained monkey bodyguard with me.”

  “What about Ricky?” I asked. I scowled, pissed that I even brought him up.

  “What about him?” She swiveled in her seat to glare at me.

  “You stole a bunch of cash from him, left him, and went off to hook up with some other guy.”

  “You're saying you feel bad for Ricky?” The expression on her face clearly said she didn't believe that for a moment.

  “Why not?” I asked. I didn't feel bad for Ricky, not really, but I felt sick at the thought that she'd used me the same way she had Ricky, the same way she had Dean. “You've been using him.”

  “How?” Leighton asked.

  “Oh come on,” I snarled. “You know that asshole's a waste of your time, but you're using him just like you use everyone else because you're terrified of anything that might possibly be real.”

  The words hung in the car heavier than the smell of stale marijuana and scotch. Leighton leaned back into her seat and crossed her arms, her mouth still open in shock. My breath heaved in and out of my flared nostrils as I tried to keep my mouth shut. I should never have let Leighton distract me from my job, much less lose control, and now I’d blurted out more than I cared to admit.

  “You're jealous,” she said finally.

  “Of what?” I asked. “A spoiled brat and her equally childish boyfriend?”

  “Oh, now I'm a brat?”

  I hit the brakes harder than necessary as we reached the wrought-iron gates outside her grandfather's mansion. “You ran away. Not exactly the actions of a grown-up. Instead of accepting your brother's decision and seeing him off with the respect he deserved, you ran away to play with some slime ball. Did you even stop to think how it would make anyone else feel or were you too busy only thinking of yourself?”

  Leighton got out of the car, unlocked a smaller gate, and stomped up the side path through the garden. Her shoulders were slumped and her arms wrapped tight around her middle as she walked. Had I made her cry?

  Fuck.

  I abandoned the car and ran after her. “I was afraid,” I called out.

  “What?” Leighton spun around, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

  “I was afraid someone had taken you, that you had been kidnapped. Any number of horrible scenarios went through my head. I was afraid I'd lost you.”

  I reached for her, but she pulled back.

  “You can't lose what you never had.” Her voice was sharp.

  “Listen to me–”

  “Stop, Haze.” She held up a hand without meeting my gaze. “Just stop. I don't want to hear any more of your judgements or expectations. When are you going to realize I'm not the girl you want me to be?”

  “No, Leighton, this isn't about us. This is something serious.”

  I realized the words had come out wrong the moment they left my mouth.

  She recoiled and then spun toward the house, stomping up the garden path and across the manicured lawn without looking at me. I had no choice but to follow her.

  Devlin threw open the French doors of his office and strode out onto the terrace even as Leighton walked past him. They didn't even look at each other, but as soon as Leighton was inside, Devlin turned to me.

  “Mr. Welch? A word?”

  Even though I desperately wanted to go after Leighton, I knew I had to go where the boss told me to, so I followed him into his office.

  “So, your
hunch was right,” Devlin said as he closed the door behind us.

  “Yes. The owner of the Lamborghini turned out to be Dean Phillips. I went to his condo and he was there with Leighton.”

  Devlin didn't need to hear any of the details about how I'd found them.

  “Did you say Dean Phillips?” Devlin curled his hands into fists.

  Clearly, he didn't need me to paint a picture. He already had an idea.

  “I'll kill that son of a bitch. He's a good fifteen years older than her; does nothing but throw money around. What were they doing?”

  I bit my tongue and refused to remember how I'd found Leighton splayed across Dean's black marble countertop. The soft sounds of pleasure I remembered she made ripped at me, but I refused to burden Devlin with the details. I shook my head.

  “Drinking, drugs...her usual.” He sighed.

  Having a man sniffing cocaine off her bare-naked thigh...

  “Sir, I may have broken Mr. Phillips' stairwell door,” I said.

  “Good. I hope you shocked the shit out of him,” Devlin said. Then he shook his head. “Never mind that. Dean will never have the balls to ask us to foot the bill.”

  “He was worried that I'd mention his name to you,” I said.

  Devlin's eyes narrowed and I saw the resemblance to Leighton more strongly than I ever had before. “Because he knows I'll destroy him for this. He had hopes of an executive producer title on my next sci-fi series, but he can go straight to hell now.”

  “Sir?” I took a deep breath. He wasn't going to like what I had to say, but I had to do it. “We have to tell Leighton about the threats. She's running around LA without any clue how dangerous it is for her. Don't you think if she knew, she never would've tried a stunt like tonight?”

  “Please,” Devlin said with a roll of his eyes. “I thought you knew my granddaughter better than that by now.”

  I snapped. “You can't keep treating her like a child!”

  Devlin's mouth flattened. “Just like I can't keep treating you like a family friend. You endangered Leighton's life tonight by neglecting to do your job, and now you dare tell me what's going to keep her safe?”

  I spoke through clenched teeth. He was my boss, but she was my...fuck it. She was my everything.

  “Leighton needs to know someone is threatening her life. The letters are getting more detailed, hinting at something happening soon. She has to know.”

  “No,” Devlin said. “The only thing that has to happen is you taking the day off. Pull yourself together, Mr. Welch, your job depends on it.”

  Chapter 16

  Haze

  I was still angry when I stepped into the steaming hot shower. I'd failed Leighton. I might've found her, and brought her home safe, but now I'd made things worse. I was certain she wasn't speaking to me, and it was a safe bet she'd go out of her way to avoid me. How was I supposed to keep her safe when she didn't want me anywhere near her?

  Devlin had been right to reprimand me and take me off duty for the rest of the day. I'd lost my focus, started thinking with my heart...and other things. I'd quit being smart, quit being the man Devlin hired to protect his granddaughter. I needed to find a way to get back to being that man again.

  The hot water started to uncoil the knot of stress in my neck. As my body loosened, an image of Leighton appeared in my mind. Except, this time, it wasn't the fist-curling position I'd found her in with Dean. It was her the night we'd first met. Leighton on my lap, her bare arms wrapped around my neck, and her eyes looking into mine as we came together.

  The surge of want was so strong that all my muscles tensed again. Shit. I'd never be able to relax or think clearly with such a desperate need. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to remember every detail of that night. I pressed one hand against the wet shower wall and wrapped the other around my hard-on.

  The sight of her, the scent of her, surrounded me. I remembered the way she'd felt, the desperation in her movements, the way her eyes had glowed. I groaned her name as the sounds she'd made came back to my memory. My hand tightened around my cock, squeezing until it almost hurt. It'd been that tight inside her, tight and hot and her muscles had flexed around me as she'd come...

  I leaned against the shower wall, a shudder running through me as I came. The hot water poured over my head and I sighed as I pushed back from the wall. I felt better, but my mind circled right back to my current impossible situation before I even stepped out of the shower.

  Dammit!

  I was out of ideas. Immediately after Devlin told me to take the rest of the night off, I'd gone downstairs to the gym and punished myself on the treadmill. The grueling miles had done nothing but make my blood boil hotter.

  Now, my blood was boiling for another reason and I needed something to make it stop.

  I got dressed, wishing there was some mess I needed to clean up. My quarters were technically part of the estate since the guest house was on the grounds, but I'd asked to not have the maid service cleaning things. Besides, it wasn't like I'd been there long enough to mess it up too much. I searched through the kitchen and found myself standing in front of the generously stocked liquor cabinet. A housewarming present I hadn't used yet. A stiff drink was a great idea, but the thought of drinking alone within yards of where Leighton was pouting wasn't appealing.

  The gardener laughed when I stopped to ask him if there were any real bars in LA. At least I didn't have to explain what I meant.

  “Sure, man, but you have to drive a hell of a way from this neighborhood.”

  “All I need is a beer,” I said.

  “Well, this time of night's a little early for the 'it' crowd, so you might get one beer in peace at Tulsa's. About ten minutes down the boulevard,” the gardener said. He gestured in the direction I'd need to go.

  “Thanks,” I said. It'd have to do, I supposed.

  Twelve minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot. Tulsa's turned out to be a small restaurant with a back bar. The barroom was narrow with a gleaming wood bar and brass rail. Narrow high-backed booths lined the wall, and a few round bar tables spilled out onto a patio. There was a good selection on tap and only a few scattered people sitting along the bar. Not bad.

  “Whiskey shot and a lager,” I said as I slid onto a bar stool.

  “Unwinding or gearing up?” the bartender asked.

  She was willow thin and tall, her blonde hair as straight as her figure. I watched as her delicate hands poured the shot and hooked a pint glass to pull the beer at the same time. Her hazel eyes flickered up to mine as she slid the drinks towards me. A confident smile curved her full lips.

  “Some of both, I guess,” I said.

  “Would it help if I did a shot with you?” she asked.

  Why the hell not? I nodded and she poured a second whiskey shot. We clinked the small glasses and tossed back the auburn liquor. She leaned on the bar and twirled her empty shot glass.

  “Whatever you're doing,” she said. “I bet it'd be easier with company.”

  “You're right,” I agreed. “It's been way too long since I went out on a date or even flirted.”

  “Well.” The bartender flipped her hair over her shoulder. “A few more customers followed you in. Why don't you look around and tell me if there's anyone you want me to introduce you to.”

  I glanced around the barroom and realized there were at least fifteen more people than when I first arrived. The gardener was right; I wouldn’t get more than one peaceful drink before the place filled up. The bartender's plan of finding some company was sounding better, and I nodded toward a cluster of women teasing a waiter out on the patio.

  “I do have a thing for red heads,” I said.

  The bartender stood up and wiped the bar clean between us. The air between us froze. “Well, good luck with that.”

  Shit.

  I took my beer and retreated to a narrow booth within view of the patio. Not only had I insulted the beautiful bartender who I now realized had been flirting with me, but I'd
blurted out a ridiculous confession about preferring red heads, especially when I'd never had a problem with blondes or brunettes before. When had that happened?

  When I met Leighton, I thought.

  I longed to order another shot of whiskey, but doubted I'd get prompt service from the bar, and the waiter was busy serving the cluster of women. I sipped my beer and thought about what it had been like going out for drinks with my army buddies. They used to call me 'Bait' or 'Chum' when we were out in the bars, because the women would flock to me.

  I sighed. I should've told Leighton how Ian wouldn't be alone. I could've told her countless stories of how soldiers looked out for each other. Instead, I'd yelled at her and told her she was acting like a spoiled child. She had been, but that hadn't been the point. The point was, I'd been an idiot.

  “The ladies on the patio want to know if they can get you anything,” the waiter said.

  “A shot of whisky,” I said. “No, actually a double on the rocks.”

  Leighton was back in my head and no amount of flirtatious smiles would chase her out. It was time to get drunk. I finished my beer, so when the waiter returned with my double whiskey, I ordered another. Then I raised my glass to the ladies on the patio and drank deep.

  “Drinking alone or can I join you?” a woman asked.

  She was tall, with curly chestnut hair and warm honey eyes. I gestured to the seat across from me and took another deep sip of my whiskey. I knew Leighton had tried to push me away with alcohol and sex, and as the whiskey swam into my head, I started to think I should try the same technique.

  “I'm glad you came over,” I said. “Your friends aren't bad, but you've got a delicious smile.”

  She bit her lip and let her honey eyes melt a little more. “And you just look delicious all over. What brings you to LA? Acting?”

  “No,” I said with a laugh. Then I added, “Though I was just mistaken for an action star.”

  “Stunt double?” she asked.

  “Nothing in Hollywood,” I said with a smile. “I work in security.”

  “I thought you looked familiar,” she said. “Are you a bouncer? That would be so great. My girlfriends and I are looking for somewhere fun to go tonight.”