Rockwell Agency: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  Angela shook her head in amazement. “You’re incredible.”

  “I have a good team,” Ryan said. Then he smiled again. “And the best possible motivation.”

  “I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Angela said. “I was afraid. I still am. Seconds before you walked in, I was committed to what I had said, even though I hated it. But when I saw you …I just. I can’t walk away from you. Even if that makes me selfish.”

  “If you’re selfish, then so am I,” Ryan said, leaning down and brushing his lips over hers. “Some things are worth it. You’re worth it.”

  Angela wrapped her arms around him, all the pain that still lingered in her body fading into the background as he held her. She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew that she would be all right as long as Ryan was still there to walk into the room.

  Ryan

  Angela let go of her walker nervously, taking her first steps on her own in many weeks. She wobbled slightly, but Ryan reached out and touched her arm, steadying her without taking over for her.

  “You’ve got it,” Ryan said, encouraging her to keep going. “You can make it.”

  Angela took another a few steps, gingerly placing weight on the leg that had been well-nigh destroyed by the alligator. If not for Jordan’s extra healing help, she probably would have lost the leg altogether, or at least all her use of it. But now, seven weeks after the incident, she was finally taking a few steps.

  She made it to the kitchen counter and grabbed onto it, smiling over her shoulder at Ryan. “Success?”

  “Success,” he said, coming up behind her and sliding his arms around her waist. He pressed soft kisses to her neck, and held her close against his chest. “I’m very proud of my beautiful girlfriend. How can I show her how proud I am?”

  Angela laughed, leaning back against him, and Ryan felt his heart swell with happiness. They had been together for seven weeks now, and every day was better than the last. If he had loved Angela three days after meeting her, he loved her exponentially more now. And she loved him. Without the constant threat of possession or murder charges, their life together had settled into a comfortable routine.

  Ryan had sold his house in the bayou. Together, he and Angela had moved into an apartment in downtown Baton Rouge, close to her university where she still worked. It was the right decision. It gave Angela some much needed space from the place that had tormented her and kept her close to what she loved, but it also allowed Ryan to work at the agency and continue to live his life.

  They were building a home together, and Ryan didn’t miss his isolated life, trapped in haunting memories.

  They hadn’t talked about it specifically, but Ryan was hopeful that when Angela’s time with the university was over, she would decide to stay in Louisiana. But even if she wanted some time back home, he wasn’t worried. He would go with her anywhere.

  “How proud are you …?” Angela asked, leaning back against him and wriggling her ass against his crotch.

  He grinned, sweeping her up into his arms and beginning to carry her towards the bedroom. She had been injured the whole time they had been together, but that hadn’t stopped them from finding ways to enjoy the heat and spark of their newfound relationship. Ryan carried her all the way to their bed and laid her down on it.

  She was so beautiful, lying there, looking up at him with heat in her eyes and a smile on her lips. He couldn’t imagine life without her. The one night he had lived, believing that she didn’t want him, had been one of the worst of his life. Whenever he remembered it, he could still feel the despair that had lived with him that night. He could still feel the relief that had moved through him the next morning when she had broken down in his arms.

  Ryan pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. His pants followed, and he stepped out of them before leaning down to pull off her own shirt, exposing her beautiful body to his eyes, fingers, and mouth.

  She was everything, and he knew it. There was no more possession to worry about. There had been no murder charge. There was nothing to keep them from being together, happy, and in love.

  Ryan stroked his fingers over the curve of her breasts, teasing her as he brushed a thumb over her nipple. “I can’t get enough of you,” he said, worshipping her with his fingers and his eyes. “I never will.”

  Angela pulled him down to her, sliding her arms around his neck as he stretched over her, avoiding her injured leg. “I’m glad I stayed.” She kissed him tenderly. “I love you, Ryan.”

  “I love you more,” he said, sliding his hands along her sides and pressing his hips against hers, groaning with pleasure. “I always will.”

  He didn’t know if she knew how much he meant that, or about his plans to ask her to marry him before her year with the university was done. But there was plenty of time to enjoy those happy moments. They had their whole lives together. Right now, he wanted to enjoy this happy moment.

  He carefully slid her shorts down her legs, kissing his way along her soft skin and teasing her until she was pleading with him. He didn’t make her ask twice—he wanted her just as badly. With love in his eyes and adoration in his kiss, Ryan made love to the woman who meant more to him than anything. To the one woman who knew who he really was and accepted him for it. To the woman who spent her nights making love to him or flying through the air on his back as he soared over the town that was home to both of them now.

  And as he held her, giving them both pleasure, he knew that no man had ever been happier.

  PART II

  Chapter 1

  Jordan

  Jordan Grey crossed her arms over her chest, surveying her friends with a perturbed look on her face. She shook her head, clucking her tongue in disapproval. “This is wrong. Honestly—there’s nothing right about this. We can’t do this.”

  Glancing over at her, Barrett rolled his eyes. “Come on, pixie girl. Get with the program.”

  Coming up behind her, Ryan ruffled the back of Jordan’s maroon pixie cut as he passed by. “Oh, come on—everybody’s doing it.”

  “That doesn’t make it right,” Jordan said, refusing to budge. She shook her head again, leaning up against the wall of the main room in the Rockwell Agency. “Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Not right.”

  Angela, Ryan’s girlfriend, and the newest addition to the Rockwell group of friends, laughed, walking up to Jordan and standing beside her. “I agree,” she told Jordan in confidence. “It’s much too early to be putting up a Christmas tree. Back home, we often didn’t put the tree up until Christmas Eve. This way, we’ll be tired of it long before we even get to celebrate Christmas.”

  “Exactly,” Jordan said. “It’s December 6th. This is nonsense.”

  Jordan liked Angela. She thought she was a nice addition to their small group of friends, and she was wonderful for Ryan, who had been happier in the past eight weeks than he had been in all of the time Jordan had known him. And she had known him almost all of his life. Jordan had been there with Ryan and Angela while they fought for Angela’s life. Angela had been possessed by a murderous spirit who tried to kill her in the Louisiana bayou, causing Angela to be attacked by an alligator and almost killed. Add the threat of a murder charge on top of that, and Angela had been through quite a bit. Even now, she was still limping slightly, as she moved around the front room of the agency, helping the others set up the Christmas decorations despite their protests. But she was doing better than any of them had expected her to, and Jordan was very glad to have her around.

  That was unusual for Jordan. She didn’t normally like people. She loved her family and the friends that she worked with, but she had very little tolerance for anyone else. She might be a small package at only five feet tall, but she packed a strong punch, and she wasn’t afraid to land that punch anywhere she felt necessary. It wasn’t just that she didn’t take easily to other people—other people often preferred to avoid her as well.

  But Jordan didn’t think she was unkind. She would do anything for those she cared about
. She just kept her circle small—as small as she was, actually.

  “If you help us finish up, then we’ll go fly,” Quentin said, bribing Jordan with her favorite thing, as he hung strands of holly on top of the many windows. Jordan loved to shift into her dragon form at night and go flying with the others. Whether they played one of their many games or just flew around the city, she found it to be her most relaxing time.

  But Jordan didn’t take bribes, and she didn’t negotiate with terrorists. “Nice try, but I’ll fly on my own. Or with people who understand that Christmas does not begin the day after Thanksgiving.”

  Hannah, who loved the holidays with an abiding passion, pouted at Jordan. “Come on …” She was waving an ornament at her. “Come help me arrange these on the tree. It’ll be fun.”

  If there was one person in the world who Jordan could refuse nothing, it was Hannah. For all of Jordan’s sharp edges, Hannah had soft, rounded corners to even her out. Hannah was the type of person who cried over sad stories about animals on the news and volunteered to hold babies in the hospital. She loved everyone and everything automatically, and there was some part of Jordan that wished she could be a little bit more like Hannah.

  But only a little bit more. Jordan liked that she was tough outside and inside, and that she didn’t suffer fools, gladly.

  “Fine,” Jordan said, taking an ornament from Hannah and walking over to the tree that Barrett was still adjusting. “I’d like it to go on record that I’m doing this for Hannah—not for any of you all.”

  “Duly noted,” Ryan said, going over to the iPod and switching the song that had just come on. He played a more upbeat Christmas song, grabbing Angela and swinging her in a dance around the room. He did all the work for them, keeping her feet just off the ground, so that her leg didn’t hurt her more than it already did.

  Jordan couldn’t help but smile at the duo. They were so sweet together. Part of her also wished that she could find a way to want, much less find, something like that, because they did look happy. But a much bigger part of her knew that she was happiest on her own. Jordan didn’t follow rules or take orders well, and everything she had seen, told her that being in a relationship inevitably required both. Living your life alongside another person always involved submission and sacrifice. As much as Angela loved Ryan, she had also sacrificed a lot to stay here in Louisiana with him—living in the place that had almost killed her. Angela was talking about moving here permanently now, and Jordan had no doubt that she would, given how well she and Ryan were doing together. It was going to be a big change for Jordan—a change necessitated by love.

  Jordan valued her independence too much to commit herself to that kind of a relationship. She had her friends and her family, and that was more than enough for her.

  Hannah was singing along to the Christmas song and bopping her way around the tree, hanging ornaments all around it in perfect symmetry. Barrett, finally satisfied with the top of the tree, got down from the step stool that he’d been on and started putting lights up around the room. Ryan and Angela were pretty well absorbed with each other, and Angela was draping tinsel over Ryan’s head as Quentin tried to retain enough of the tinsel to actually decorate the tree.

  It was, Jordan had to admit, a very cheery scene. About two weeks too early, unfortunately.

  The phone at the reception desk rang, and Barrett hurried to answer it. The agency only had a part-time receptionist, and they had sent her home early that day, so she could spend some time with relatives who were in visiting.

  Jordan checked the clock above the receptionist’s desk, noting that it was after 5:00. The agency didn’t keep strict business hours, but it was rare for them to get a call after 5:00 unless it was about an ongoing case. But there was nothing big in the works right now. It was the holiday season, and Baton Rouge was relatively calm. People were thinking more about shopping, and decorating, and baking than investigating.

  “The Rockwell Agency,” Barrett said, answering in his most professional tone. He was facing Jordan, though not looking at her as he spoke. She could tell the moment that he got bad news. His face clouded over, and his posture went rigid. Immediately on alert, Jordan waited for him to announce that they had a big case, but he turned away, muttering something into the phone and putting it down.

  “Jordan, hang that up when I pick up in my office, will you?” Barrett asked, as he slipped past her and headed towards the end of the hall, where his large office waited.

  If he was taking it in his office, the news really must be bad. Jordan put the ornament she was holding on the tree and walked over to the phone, picking up the receiver. No one else was paying much attention. They were focused on their holiday decorating. But Jordan was curious. She knew that Barrett had been having some trouble with the agency lately. The Rockwell’s had run the Rockwell Agency for generations, and they were known for being strong, powerful, and commanding leaders. The oldest Rockwell, male or female, always had a birthright to run the agency, and everyone had believed that Barrett, an only child, and the sole current Rockwell heir, would be an excellent successor to his father and his grandfather before him.

  And Jordan believed that Barrett was a great successor. He was capable, and efficient, and a strong leader who inspired loyalty in those who he had chosen to work alongside him.

  So, it didn’t make sense that things kept going missing. There had been some money lost and some paperwork misfiled, and it had all been very embarrassing because this was just Barrett’s first year running the agency, and the older generations still routinely checked in to see how things were going. Every time they did check in, it seemed that there was some new mistake to find.

  Jordan wondered what could be distracting Barrett.

  Picking up the receiver, she held it briefly to her ear.

  “Dad, I swear—that leak didn’t come from our office. I’m looking at the client’s file right now. There’s no way that anyone here leaked that information. All of the paperwork is here.”

  Barrett’s father, Gideon, didn’t sound reassured. “Barrett, nobody else knew. We have to make sure that our clientele can trust us. If they can’t trust us, then they won’t come to us anymore. And, given that most of our cases are supernatural, we have to be even more careful. We can’t let people get ahold of information like that. It would only confirm all the rumors people like to spread about the Rockwell’s anyway.”

  “I’m telling you …,” Barrett said, “it didn’t come from us. I don’t know what else to say, Dad. You have to trust me.”

  Feeling bad for eavesdropping, Jordan put the phone down on the receiver, cutting herself off from the call. She hated that Barrett sounded so upset, especially since he’d been having such a nice time helping to get the office ready for the Christmas season. She also wished that she knew what to do to help him. It was obviously bothering him that people were questioning his ability to run the Rockwell Agency efficiently, but there was little that she could do to make sure that nobody questioned him. She always filed her paperwork and kept her files in order and made sure that she accounted for the money she used, if she used any at all.

  Maybe she should offer to help take over some of the accounting or the office work. Maybe they needed a new receptionist. Or a full-time receptionist. The problem could be that there was just too much paperwork for the number of people who were working there.

  That had to be it, Jordan decided. They just needed a few more hands on deck. Or at least one more set of hands on deck. She could help find someone else to pitch in. Her younger sister, for instance, had a lot of free time on her hands, and she looked up to all of the shifters who worked at the agency. Collette would be happy to come by a few afternoons a week, after she got out of her university classes, and helped with odds and ends.

  Determined to run the idea by Barrett at a later time, Jordan made her way back over to her friends and picked up another ornament. “Come on,” she said, dangling it from her finger. “Why did everyone st
op singing?”

  “Did you just get bitten by the Christmas-spirit bug?” Ryan asked, bumping his hip against hers, as he grabbed an ornament from the box. “Everyone—hurry! Jordan is ready to be merry.”

  “Don’t push it,” Jordan said, although she was smiling. “I’m just saying, if we’re going to do Christmas way too early, let’s at least commit. Everyone—get to singing.”

  Quentin raised his voice above the others, bellowing out the Christmas lyrics and making them all laugh with his dramatics. When Barrett walked back out of his office, his face was grim, but the energy in the room quickly put him at ease again. Jordan smiled to herself, glad to see that they were able to provide an escape from Barrett’s problems. She might not care about many, but those she did care about, she cared about deeply.

  Chapter 2

  Wes

  “Oh, come on!” Wes slammed his fist down on the bar, causing his beer to rattle to the left. He swiped it up and took a swig, before putting it back down on the bar and grabbing one of the wings from the basket that he and his friends had purchased to enhance their enjoyment of the football game. “Why can’t he catch—just catch the ball!” Wes said, gesticulating with his free hand. “That is literally what he is paid millions of dollars to do. Catch. The. Ball.”

  Garland, one of Wes’ friends and coworkers, shoved his shoulder jovially. Garland was rooting for the other team, and the fact that the quarterback for Wes’ team had just missed a crucial pass was now the highlight of his night. “Aww, too bad!” Garland said, reaching for his own beer. “That’s the game, man. That right there—that’s the game.”