“Why do you call me Diablo?” he asked inquisitively, leaning his lean hips back against the counter.
The motion really accentuated his abdominal muscles.
And try as I might, my eyes slipped down.
The light from the fridge gave off a soft glow that seemed to make Nico’s golden brown skin glow. It made the deep ridges of his abs seem more pronounced. Or, at least, that was what I was contributing it to. There was really no way that a man, one who’d been beyond ripped before he entered the Navy, could come back looking that much better.
“When you’re playing soccer, it’s like the devil’s on your heels. You leave everyone behind like you’re running for your life,” I answered him honestly.
Did I mention that Nico was a soccer star, too?
He could’ve gone pro, but he’d decided to go Navy instead, much to his mother’s disapproval.
Rosa Pena was a hell of a woman, but just like any Latino mother, she loved her children with a fierce protectiveness that bordered on going overboard. She wanted what she wanted for her kids, and that wasn’t joining the Navy.
I walked up to the kitchen counter and grabbed a glass from the cabinet. The kind that Nico hated because they were too small. ‘A waste of my time,’ he liked to say.
It happened to be the one directly in front of where Nicolas was standing, so my body grazed his as I leaned up and over him.
He didn’t move, and I didn’t ask him to as our bodies grazed.
Goosebumps started to chase down my spine as I felt his overheated skin against mine.
I held back a shiver as I stepped away from him and started filling up the glass.
Once filled, I closed the fridge door, plunging the room into darkness. Then I leaned back against the counter next to him, shoulder to shoulder.
“How do you like the Navy?” I asked into the dark.
I felt him take a deep breath next to me.
“It’s okay, I guess. I don’t really know what I expected… not what I’m doing, that’s for sure. I’ve met some really good friends, though. One of them actually lives fairly close to me. The others live in Las Vegas. Two brothers, if you can believe it,” he murmured.
He didn’t see how the sound of his voice sent goosebumps dimpling all over my skin.
My elbow hit the digital camera I’d left on the counter earlier and I grinned.
I’d been wanting a new picture of him for a while, but he never let me take one, something about national security and all that B.S.
My camera was my pride and joy.
I’d saved up for nearly two years to buy this bad boy and I’d just gotten it last week.
I couldn’t think of a better subject.
I turned the camera switch to the ‘on’ position and backed away from the counter.
Aiming it at where I thought his face would be, I depressed the button and a bright flash lit up the kitchen.
I smiled when I saw the picture.
It was a good one of him, most definitely with it being dark.
“You know,” Nico sighed. “You can’t post that picture anywhere. You can have it, just don’t put it on any social media. Or anything. Ever. Okay?”
Curiosity got the best of me, and I couldn’t help what I asked next. “You’re not like a hitman or anything, are you?”
He chuckled. “No. I’m not a hitman. I’m a SEAL. And we can’t just have our pictures floating all over the internet. Our lives could depend on it.”
A SEAL?
That was new to me.
“When did that happen?” I asked.
Setting the camera down on the counter, I leaned up against the counter again. This time we touched from shoulder to thigh.
“A year or so ago,” he said.
I could practically feel him roll his eyes.
“So, when do you have to go back? You practically wasted your first two days on the couch,” I teased.
He sighed. “I have… had a week. I go back on Friday.”
I turned to look at him. “You’re going to make our graduation?”
He looped an arm around my shoulders. “Yep.”
I shivered at the touch. A touch that I’d wanted for so long.
Although not quite the touch I yearned for, it would do.
I leaned my head onto his shoulder, staying like that for a few long moments before he pulled away.
Except it wasn’t to let go of me, but to turn so his body was in front of mine, leaning into me, pushing my hips into the counter.
“You’re legal now,” he whispered.
I felt his breath on my lips.
If I leaned closer… I’d be able to touch my lips with his.
I leaned.
Our mouths touched briefly, but just as quickly, he was gone.
And Nikki was in the kitchen, the lights flaring bright.
“Water, woman! How hard is it to grab some water? Oh,” Nikki exclaimed. “Nico, you’re finally awake!”
We both blinked at Nikki’s impeccable timing of turning on the lights.
Then we both got our first good looks at each other.
I was in my usual of a long t-shirt of my brother’s that reached my knees and some really short shorts. Ones that could pass for panties, if I was being truthful.
He was in a pair of boxer briefs. The type that left very little to the imagination.
His hair was shorter than I was used to, buzzed closely to his head.
He had on a pair of dog tags that hung between two defined pectoral muscles, and his smooth toffee-colored skin looked gorgeous. Although, he did have a new scar that ran the length of his arm.
“Well, my clock’s a little backward from what I’m used to. I was up all night last night, but I didn’t have the energy to wake up with y’all this morning,” he said, explaining away his tiredness.
Nikki walked into his arms and hugged him fiercely. “If you can manage it, Mama’s making chorizo and eggs in the morning. The kids miss you.”
The ‘kids’ were Nikki’s and Nico’s sisters. There were six of them in total, including Nikki and Nico, ranging in age from nine to eighteen.
Nikki was the second oldest, and one of five girls, similar to what I was with my own family of all brothers.
That’s why we’d gotten along so well, because we both had overprotective brothers who didn’t like that their baby sister was old enough to date.
“I’ll try, sis. I really will,” he promised.
I was looking down at my hands, trying to will them not to shake from the moment we’d almost shared.
“If Georgia tries a piece of the chorizo, I’ll promise to stay up,” he declared.
I made a gagging sound. I hated chorizo. A Spanish form of sausage, it made me want to barf every time I smelled it.
Nico, however, loved it. He loved it so much that he wanted me to love it, too. Except it smelled like ass and I didn’t want anything to do with it.
Nikki laughed as she grabbed her cup of water and left the room, leaving the two of us staring at each other.
I’d planned on leaving before breakfast.
I had to go help my brothers with the farm work, because they couldn’t get it all done by themselves.
“I can’t stay. I have to be out of here by five. We’re moving the cattle to a different pasture in the morning,” I explained.
I was already tired.
It’d be a long day tomorrow, but I’d get through it. I only had four more days, then I was away to college.
I could do four more days.
Nico smiled at me, a warm me to my bones and more, kind of smile. “Maybe a graduation dinner before I leave on Saturday. To celebrate.”
“Friday afternoon is the only day I can do,” I said. “The other three days I’ll be branding cows,” I explained.
He nodded. “Friday.”
Except, the next morning, something happened that would change the
course of my life. Taking away everything that I thought my life might be, even my dreams.
Nico being one of them.
I never made dinner.
Chapter 1
Jingle Bells, Twilight smells, Edward ran away. Jacob cries, Bella dies, Harry Potter all the way. Hey!
-T-shirt
Nico
Eight years later
“Nikki, I can’t talk right now. I’m swamped,” I said as I continued filling out my paperwork.
“She’s back!” my sister crowed loudly into the phone.
“Who’s back?” I asked distractedly.
“Georgia Brianne!” my sister yelled.
That was enough to make everything freeze, even my blood.
“What?” I asked for clarification.
“You heard me, big brother. She’s here. I saw the farm’s gates unlocked when I walked past it this morning on my morning walk. You know how curious I get, so I had to walk up there and see,” Nikki explained.
My keys were in my hand and I was walking out of the bullpen moments later without actively thinking about it.
On the drive to her house, I thought about that night. The night I’d gone to her house to find it burned to the ground.
The two youngest of Georgia’s siblings, as well as both of her parents, perished in the fire.
It’d been a murder-suicide.
Her father had tied each child up, as well as his wife. Ace, Banks, Callum, Darby, Eden, Foss, and Georgia had all been shot by their father, but lived.
Foss and Eden, the babies of the group, hadn’t lived from their gunshot wounds, dying within minutes of being shot.
Georgia’s mother was burned alive, their father having doused her in gasoline and set her on fire to initially start the blaze.
It’d been while their father had set the fire that Georgia was able to get free, and their father had shot himself while Georgia untied her siblings.
The five remaining Valentine children had disappeared the next morning, and it wasn’t until a year later that I was able to find Georgia again.
They’d moved to Houston.
All but Georgia had been taken into state custody. Georgia had followed her brothers, taking any job she could get to help support herself.
The family who’d taken in the brothers was a good one. A rarity.
They’d taken in Georgia, too. Or would’ve if she’d have let them.
I pulled up to the gate that led up to the Valentine farm, stopping at the bottom to walk up the long driveway.
She’d get spooked if she saw the KPD squad car and I didn’t want to freak her out.
The farm looked much the same as it used to. The last couple of years it’d spent abandoned; yet, now, the pastures were mowed, and there were a couple cows mulling about on either side of the drive.
Almost like the last eight years had never happened.
The large, charred farmhouse was gone, though.
I’d seen to that.
There was nothing left but the bare bones. I’d gotten a pleading letter from Georgia around a year after the incident, asking me to ‘take care of the house’ and then a letter from an attorney giving me the right to do so under the law.
Since that time, I kept the property directly around the homestead free of weeds and overgrowth, keeping it ready… just in case.
Although there was only a barn left, there was a huge loft that they used to rent out in the summer to an extra ranch hand. That was probably where she was staying.
I spotted her the moment I topped the hill.
She was wearing jeans. Skintight jeans that made my heart skip a beat.
She looked exactly like I remembered her.
Long legs that went on forever, small dainty hands. She was around five-eight and had a killer ass. Her hair was the only thing different.
It used to be long and brown, down to her waist.
It was the same beautiful brown color on top, yet now there was a barrage of colors added to the layer underneath the top brown layer. It was shorter, as well. Short. As in to her shoulders, short.
In fact, it really did it for me.
I made sure to scuff my boots on the gravel to let her know I was behind her, and she froze, turning slowly.
Her face was exactly like I remembered it.
A smattering of freckles still covered her nose and cheeks, and her beautiful lips were still round and full.
And God, her eyes were to die for.
Crystal fucking blue.
She was gorgeous.
Those gorgeous baby blues widened when she saw me, but it didn’t take her long and she was running.
I widened my stance and caught her as she launched herself into my arms.
She was my world eight years ago, and now, it felt exactly the same. I wanted her so bad it hurt.
Wrapping my arms around her, I buried my nose into the crease of her neck.
“Nicolas,” she breathed into my neck.
She smelled like the sun and felt perfect in my arms. Like she was always meant to be there.
Eight years ago, I’d made the first move. Letting her know that I was interested.
I’d waited too long, though.
I should’ve done it earlier, but I was worried about propriety.
I worried that she’d been too young, that I should wait until she was graduated.
Maybe if I’d made my move earlier, she’d have stayed.
But I didn’t, and she’d disappeared.
Then I’d gotten deployed, and we’d lived on the occasional letter to keep in touch.
My favorite letter, the one that’d saved me. The one that was the first thing I’d read after the death of nearly my whole unit. The one I still carried with me to this day.
It was nothing special. Just a short one from Georgia telling me she’d taught a boy, in a park she ran at, how to do a sliding tackle. But it’d been the words at the end of the letter that had pulled me out of whatever zone I’d been in.
Three simple words: I need you.
The letters had gotten me through a lot of years and a lot of scary days.
She probably didn’t realize it, but she’d saved my life.
“Georgia,” my roughened voice croaked. “I’ve missed the hell out of you.”
She leaned back, giving me her eyes. “I’ve missed you, too. Did you get the message I left you at your place?”
I shook my head. “No, I haven’t been back there in nearly twenty-four hours.”
She frowned. “You work too much.”
I grinned at her.
Right back to telling me what I should and shouldn’t do, and we’d only been in each other’s presence for a little over three minutes.
“Are you here for good?” I asked, setting her back on her feet.
She nodded and led me over to a tree that had been recently cut down.
“Did you do this?” I asked worriedly, staring at the large sections of wood and the chainsaw that was on the ground beside the pieces.
She shook her head, the movement revealing a large amount of red, blue, and purple in her hair.
“No,” she said, nodding her head to the barn door. “The boys are home with me.”
“So you’ve moved into the loft with your brothers?” I clarified.
She grinned. “Yeah, we’ve been staying together, on and off, for the last year or so since their adoptive parents died; their biological children never really got along with the boys, so we decided it was time to come home.”
She looked good, really good.
“And you’re okay… with being here?” I confirmed.
She pursed her lips and looked down at her hands. “Yes… no. I don’t know yet. We’ve got a mobile home coming tomorrow. I don’t plan on staying in the loft, or Granny’s old place on the back of the property. I don’t think I can. But the boys… they were younger. They don’t remember as much as I
do.”
“If you ever need a place to stay, I’m right down the road. You know that, right?” I asked her.
She nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears at my announcement.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I’m scared to be here,” she admitted.
My eyes didn’t leave her face for long moments as I stared at her, ascertaining her feelings.
“Have you spoken with anyone?” I asked quietly.
All of these questions were burning on the tip of my tongue. So many things I wanted to know.
She nodded. “Yeah. I haven’t told them exactly what happened, but I have given them the gist. They say I have a mild form of PTSD. One that doesn’t really make itself known until it’s the dark of night. I usually can circumvent any flare-ups by leaving lights on and making sure I can leave a door open… or see outside.” Once she said that, she frowned. “Why is it, after eight years of not seeing you, you can still get me to talk? That’s really… really not fair.”
I grinned. “Maybe, if you ever come out to dinner with me like you promised you would, we can compare notes on PTSD. ‘Cause, in all honesty, I have enough PTSD to share with just about everyone in the Kilgore area and still have some to spare.
She looked down at her hands. “I’m not the same girl, Diablo.”
I snorted. “I’m not the same man, niña.”
She shot me a quelling look. “I’m not a child.”
I laughed, remembering how much she hated being called that when she was younger, too.
“Why do you think I kept calling you that then?” I asked.
She didn’t get the chance to answer because my pager went off.
A-fucking-gain.
“Jesus Christ,” I hissed, pulling it off my belt loop.
She looked at me worriedly.
911.
“Fuck,” I hissed. “I gotta go. Call me in the morning, niña. I have a present for you.”
Without waiting for a response, I started running down the driveway, making it down the half-mile dirt road in less than two and a half minutes.
Not bad for jeans and boots.
The last thing I saw as I pulled out of the driveway was Georgia standing at the top of the hill with a huge grin on her face.
She waved when I held my hand out of the window, and I couldn’t help the stupid little grin that stayed on my face the entire way to the station.
Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set Page 22
