Tate
Lighthouse Security Investigations
Maryann Jordan
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Also by Maryann Jordan
About the Author
Tate (Lighthouse Security Investigations) Copyright 2020
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, then you are reading an illegal pirated copy. If you would be concerned about working for no pay, then please respect the author’s work! Make sure that you are only reading a copy that has been officially released by the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover by: Graphics by Stacy
ISBN ebook: 978-1-947214-60-6
ISBN print: 978-1-947214-61-3
Created with Vellum
1
Ravaged. That was the only word Tate could think of to describe everything about this day. As part of the Honor Guard at the funeral of a fallen service member and fellow SEAL, he felt ravaged. Considering the funeral was for his best friend since childhood, he felt ravaged.
Looking across the flag-draped coffin toward Nathan’s parents clinging to each other, their faces were ravaged. And when he captured and held the gaze of Nathan’s sister, Nora, the woman he planned on marrying, he saw nothing but raw, ravaged emotion pouring from her.
The service was soon over, the salute was given, the flag folded and presented. He sucked in a ragged breath, reminding himself to breathe even though his chest ached with each inhalation. The idea of passing out almost brought a smile, thinking that Nathan would have found it hilarious for Tate to faint at a funeral. With a last glance back toward the now-bare coffin, the idea that Nathan would never laugh again ravaged him.
The funeral had been hard enough to get through, but he felt choked in the crowded house full of mourners. If one more person came up to him to thank him for his service or tell him that they remembered he and Nathan had always been together, he was not sure he’d be able to handle it.
One look at Nora’s pale face while standing in her living room gave evidence that she felt the same. Without speaking, he simply linked fingers with her, and they walked out together. He assisted her up into his truck, having no destination in mind. Dark clouds were beginning to roll overhead, adding to the silent, somber mood.
After a while, he finally drove to the Double T, his family’s ranch, and parked outside the barn. Filled with memories of the three of them throughout their youth, at that moment it was the only place he wanted to be. A storm had been brewing all day, dark clouds moving in, lightning in the distance, and the winds started to whip fat raindrops against the front of the truck. He climbed down from the driver’s side and raced around to her door. Cognizant of the heels she wore, he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the barn before setting her feet to the ground. He glanced down, wondering if being there was upsetting, but for the first time that day, she looked as though she could breathe. She took his hand, linked fingers with him, and walked to the ladder leading to the hayloft.
Climbing close behind her, his feet had landed on the wooden floor just as she kicked her shoes off. They walked together to the wide opening and stared out toward the mountains in the distance. By now, the storm had descended all around them. With rain pelting the tin roof and the winds howling, they turned and faced each other, drawn by the magnet that had always existed between them.
They moved slowly at first, hands simply grasping each other’s shoulders as the distance between their bodies closed. He bent and kissed her lightly, but her fingers tightened, and she clung to him, the kiss taking on an intensity he had not planned for but they both needed.
Clothes were soon tossed, his uniform heedlessly dumped onto the hay. Their hands roamed wildly, noses bumped as tongues thrust, and lips devoured each other. The need to bury their shared grief in each other’s bodies overtook all other thoughts.
Kneeling when they were completely naked, she soon slid to her back, her breasts beckoning, arms lifted and legs spread in need and invitation. Dating for years, this was not the first time they’d had sex, nor the hayloft been their hideaway, but he could not remember ever needing her body quite so desperately. When he finally plunged into her warm sex as her arms and legs clung to him, he could no longer tell where he ended and she began.
Lightning speared through the dark and the following thunder shook the barn. She surprised him when she pushed against one shoulder, and he rolled to his back, his cock still deep inside. She leaned forward, her honey-blonde hair creating a curtain as her hands clutched his shoulders. Her eyes squeezed shut and her breasts bounced as she rode his cock, lifting and plunging with a ferocity that he knew mirrored his own.
She threw her head back, crying out her release, and shame hit him at the realization he had not taken care of her needs, having concentrated more on his own. She fell forward, her breasts tightly pressed against his chest, and he flipped her so that she was once again on her back. She continued to cling to him, her eyes now open and pinned straight to his. He lifted one of her legs so that he could drive his cock deeper.
Finally, he shuddered as his orgasm sent shockwaves throughout his body. Continuing to pump until every last drop was drained, he barely managed to fall to the side, pulling her close as he dragged aching breaths deep into his lungs.
The only thought in his mind had been to forget, but as she held his gaze, memories came rushing back. The three of them racing around the ranch as kids. The first time he’d looked at her as a woman one summer when she pranced around the swimming hole in a bikini. The promises he and Nathan made when they joined the Navy. Especially the last promise… the one that said he’d take care of Nora.
As they dressed, he held her close, kissing her forehead. He wanted to ask if she was okay, but one look at her still-grief-stricken face and he knew the loss of her brother was almost more than she could bear. If he could take away her pain, he would have. His SEAL training had prepared him for everything—except how to make this better for her.
2
Ten Years Later
They’re missing it all.
Casting his gaze upon the other occupants in the business class section of the plane, Tate did not see one other person looking out their window. Snoozing. Reading. Working on their computers. Ordering their next drink. But no one was paying attention to the ever-changing vista below.
&
nbsp; He shifted in his seat, glad his long legs had extra room, then leaned over to stare out his window and continue his perusal of the ground from his 30,000 feet elevation.
Flat plains and rolling hills. Green grass and scrub brush. Thick forests and craggy peaks. The occasional city could be seen in the distance, but below, houses and barns nestled amongst acres of wheat on farms or at the edge of massive cattle ranches. Roads weaved between small towns, the thread that connected everyone below.
The man across from him flipped up the visor on his window, leaned over and peered down, then immediately turned back to his computer, his expression never changing, dismissing the view below.
But for Tate, the wide-open spaces below settled deep inside, bringing back memories of home. The place where he was born and raised, taught love of family and love of the land. Where he was taught pride in hard work and the reward of good fun.
Home was saddling his favorite horse and riding the ranch, keeping an eye on the cattle that grazed in the pastures near the base of the hills. Home was also hours spent on the massive tractor, plowing, planting, and then harvesting the hay. Home was learning how to hunt and fish with his granddad.
Home was Sunday mornings, sitting in the family pew of the little white church in the nearby town, listening to the preacher and singing hymns. It was a Sunday dinner that his grandma, mom, and sister prepared that would feed the whole family, some of the farmhands that lived nearby, and anyone from church that his dad recognized needed a good meal and good company.
Home was the county fair each summer where his mom’s apple pie almost always took home the blue ribbon and everyone was begging for grandma’s apple butter recipe.
Home was where he grew into his large hands and feet, finally filling out the gangly body of his early-teen years. Reaching six feet, five inches, he’d packed on muscle with his mom’s good cooking and the hard, daily ranch work.
Home was high school baseball games, where he knew everyone in the stands and they cheered for each kid like they were their own. Home was long bus rides to get to school, but he didn’t mind because he could stare out the window at the land all around with his friends at his side.
He scrubbed his hand over his chin, smiling as more memories flooded his mind. Home was also tearing up dirt roads in pickup trucks as a teenager, the rougher the terrain, the better. Home was sneaking his first cigarette and beer behind the barn and hiking up the mountains behind the family ranch with his best friend, Nathan.
Home also brought back memories of Nathan’s sister, the beautiful girl he loved when he was young and full of ideas about the life he wanted to lead. The girl he was sure he’d marry one day. Settle on part of the ranch. Build a house. Raise a family.
A sigh left his lips as his thoughts turned.
Home was also time spent alone in the mountains, sitting on a rock outcropping and surveying the expanse of land, wondering what else was out there in the world. Excitement. Adventure. Big cities. Big oceans. Ports of call. And when the call to duty sounded, he and Nathan joined the Navy, but his dreams of the future were always of hearth and home. Those ideas were what kept him grounded when missions took him around the world and danger lurked in the shadows. What would I have done differently if I knew what was hiding in the shadows? Dreams change, and the young become less idealistic, forging new paths and new places to lay our heads.
A former SEAL now employed as a Keeper for Lighthouse Security Investigations, he made his new home in Maine but still loved being able to travel the world. A few weeks ago, he was in French Guiana on a rescue mission and had just finished a security detail in Texas. He enjoyed his post-military life, especially being able to take this detour to celebrate his mom’s birthday by returning to his childhood home for a visit.
As the plane began its descent into the Denver airport, he smiled as the ground rose to touch the wheels of the plane and the pilot executed a smooth landing. His fellow business class passengers were checking their phones and watches, putting away their computers, and pulling out their itineraries for the next leg of their journey.
For him, it would be a quick flight on a much smaller plane to Rawlins, Wyoming.
Thirty minutes later, he was back in the air, once more staring out the window at the familiar landscape below of forests and mountains, grassland and scrub brush. This time, the smaller plane flew closer to the ground and the cars and trucks on the little roads were easily visible. Less than two hours later, he walked through the small airport, out into the bright sunshine.
Home for a few days. Minutes later, with his duffel bag in one hand, he grinned at the sight of another high school friend, now brother-in-law, Thomas. Dropping his bag, he clasped Thomas’ hand in his before pulling him in for a back-slapping greeting. Thomas was not as tall as Tate but muscular with a ready smile and friendly demeanor.
“Jesus, man, my sister must be feeding you well.” Tate popped Thomas on the stomach, laughing as the other man jumped away, rubbing his midsection.
“Fuck, Tate. Working the ranch, I’ve got no time to get fat.” Grinning, he wiggled his eyebrows. “But then, Caroline learned how to cook at your mama’s knee, so she always takes good care of me.”
“Hell, I can’t wait to taste their cooking again.” Tate reached down and grabbed his bag, hefting the large duffel. Years of hauling heavy loads as a young man and then as a SEAL enabled him to shoulder the heavy bag as though it were weightless. Walking alongside Thomas, he easily spied the family ranch pickup truck, faded blue with the logo for Double T Ranch on the side, dirt on the tires, and dust covering the back. “I see Dad’s still got the pickup running.”
Thomas chuckled, shaking his head as they both climbed inside. “One of the reasons your dad’s ranch makes money is that he doesn’t waste it on stupid shit. As long as a truck, tractor, or any piece of machinery can run, he keeps it going.”
Right on cue as he turned the switch, the old truck fired to life and, spinning the steering wheel with a practiced hand, Thomas pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road. They quickly left any semblance of civilization behind. The family ranch was about thirty miles south of Rawlins and they drove on a two-lane highway, cutting through the hills and valleys.
Thomas kept up a running monologue about the ranch, his kids, and any gossip about people Tate used to know. Settling back in the seat, Tate listened with enjoyment, not surprised to find that many of his high school friends were now running their family ranches or businesses. Boys he played ball with were now married with kids, much like Thomas. Girls he had flirted with were now moms. Some of the boys and girls he knew had left for college or jobs elsewhere, but many of the farms had been passed down through the generations.
Tate always winced when he thought about his grandfather’s reaction to him leaving high school and joining the Navy. It had been his grandfather’s dream that he would stay in Wyoming and continue to run the ranch with his father. At one time, that had been his dream also. Thank God for Caroline and Thomas. His father accepted that his heart had been set on becoming a SEAL, and Tate had been able to leave with little guilt, knowing that his older sister Caroline was marrying her sweetheart who was eager to work the ranch.
They passed the outskirts of the little town and he swung his head around. His gaze snagged on a little strip mall shopping center that used to be nothing more than a local grocery. “Whoa,” he murmured under his breath. Reading the businesses, his voice raised. “Nail salon. Day spa. Cell phone store. Coffee shop. A Chinese restaurant!”
Nodding his head with vigor, Thomas grinned. “Hell, we’ve got pizza, a brewery, Mexican, Chinese. Of course, there are more steak and barbecue places than you can shake your fist at.” He glanced to the side and added, “Sometimes, after church on Sunday, we’ll stop and have a meal out.”
He jerked his head around again, this time staring at Thomas. What the fuck? “Since when did Mom quit cooking a big Sunday dinner?”
Thomas shrugged his beefy shoulde
rs, turning onto another—and smaller—two-lane road. “She still cooks, but we don’t have as many ranch hands as we used to. She says that sometimes it’s just nice to sit down in a restaurant and let them do all the fixing.”
“I know changes make sense, but… hell, somehow, I still think of this place as it was when we were kids.”
“I know you didn’t see it ‘cause it was on the other side of Rawlins, but we’ve now got a new medical center. Your mom finally convinced your dad to go in for a full checkup since he didn’t have to go very far.”
Before he had a chance to ask more about the family, Thomas turned off the road and onto a lane underneath a sign declaring Double T Ranch. The drive was paved, but dust kicked up all around, nonetheless. Without thinking, his gaze peered through the windshield, ignoring the pastures to either side as he strained to see the familiar house that rose from the side of a hill. The massive barn was off to the left, but it was the house that held his attention.
Two stories made of wood and stone nestled amongst the trees his great-grandfather had planted. Massive windows filled the front, offering the residents an unparalleled view of the ranch with snow-capped mountains in the distance. A wide porch extended from the side, steps leading down to a large stone patio, complete with benches and chairs surrounding a firepit. The flowerbeds were all dormant, but shrubs lined the patio and walkways.
Memories hit again, of family and friends gathered for barbeques, his mom bustling around with platters as his dad manned the grill. After everyone left or turned in for the night, he and Nathan used to lean back in the Adirondack chairs, drink a beer, and look at the stars, dreaming of a life outside of Wyoming.
Tate (Lighthouse Security Investigations Book 6) Page 1
