by Shauna Allen
Protecting Carissa
Special Forces: Operation Alpha
Shauna Allen
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
© 2018 ACES PRESS, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.
Dear Readers,
Welcome to the Special Forces: Operation Alpha Fan-Fiction world!
If you are new to this amazing world, in a nutshell the author wrote a story using one or more of my characters in it. Sometimes that character has a major role in the story, and other times they are only mentioned briefly. This is perfectly legal and allowable because they are going through Aces Press to publish the story.
This book is entirely the work of the author who wrote it. While I might have assisted with brainstorming and other ideas about which of my characters to use, I didn’t have any part in the process or writing or editing the story.
I’m proud and excited that so many authors loved my characters enough that they wanted to write them into their own story. Thank you for supporting them, and me!
READ ON!
Xoxo
Susan Stoker
Contents
Acknowledgments
Prologue
1. Cody
2. Carissa
3. Cody
4. Carissa
5. Cody
6. Carissa
7. Cody
8. Carissa
9. Cody
10. Carissa
11. Cody
12. Carissa
13. xoxo
14. Cody
15. Carissa
16. Cody
Epilogue
A note from the author
Other Books by Shauna Allen
More Special Forces: Operation Alpha World Books
Books by Susan Stoker
Acknowledgments
As always, much love to the lovely and generous Susan Stoker who not only allows other authors to delve into her creative world, but embraces, encourages, and cheers us on along the way. You are a true gem in this writing world and I am grateful for you!
Thank you to my assistant, Kimberly Dawn, and beta reader, Ella Gram, who help make my books shine . . . plus they are just generally awesome!
Thank you LeTeisha Newton for being a sweetheart and for the gorgeous, amazing covers!
Big, squishy hugs to my Shauna’s Angels for their unending love and support, much of it behind the scenes and in ways I could never express. You are more appreciated than you will ever know and loved beyond measure.
Lots of love to my girls at Divas, Ink—Selena, Sharla, Jamie, and Jennie—you girls are real friends in a world where that is exceptionally rare. Thank you.
Hugs and kisses to all of the readers, bloggers, and reviewers who have embraced these Special Forces books, especially those who I “inherited” from Susan Stoker’s Stalkers . . . you are all so incredibly amazing! The writing world can be an incredibly isolated and lonely place in front of a computer, but your love and excitement has made this ride an incredible journey. Thank you from the bottom of my heart!
Lastly, thank you is not enough, but it’s all I have to give, along with my love, hugs, and kisses, to my adoring husband and amazing children. You are the loves of my life.
***Please continue reading after the last page for a complete listing of all my books, including my Family Creed series and my YA series written as SC Montgomery.***
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About the book
Cody “Kid” Wilbanks is a loner. Quiet. Observant. Meticulous. The youngest of his highly trained United States Marine Corps Force Reconnaissance team, he knows he is often underestimated, but that’s only made him work harder to earn his place among this family of deadly warriors—his brothers—the men he’d lay down his life for without a moment’s hesitation.
Now, along with their closest allies in Wolf, Tex, and their entire team of Navy SEALs, they’re closing in on their biggest enemy to date, but things won’t be easy . . . in fact, they might be downright dangerous. And as the teams realize their biggest asset might be the elusive hacker who has been tormenting them for months but just slipped through their hands, they embark on the biggest chase of their careers, but Kid is in for an even bigger surprise . . .
Carissa Brewer—the girl he left behind after one perfect night together.
He’s held her heart since the moment she laid eyes on the sexy, quiet Marine, but now she holds the ultimate secret that could either rip them apart forever or be the key to unlocking the future she’s been dreaming about.
***The saga is nearly over! Don’t miss the beginning of the end of what started in Defending Danielle, Rescuing Rebekah, Saving Scarlett, and Saving Grace!
Prologue
Cody
At dawn, I went for a jog on the beach, my mind ticking through the current mission facing my team, which had morphed from what seemed to be a simple task of taking down one sleazy drug cartel kingpin and his hacker, to something else altogether when we began to unravel a puzzle that included munitions and arms sales to Middle Eastern terrorist groups that we’d been tracking for years.
My teammates were my brothers, my family, but in many ways, I was still a loner. I did my best thinking alone. That was why I liked my early morning runs. That, and because, if I left at just the right time, and took just the right route, I’d learned that I crossed paths with Carissa Brewer as she came in for her Monday morning waitressing shifts at Maverick’s Café.
I could admit I was nursing a bit of an obsession for the woman, but damn, she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. And sweet. So sweet. Something about her made me want to protect her from the world. Maybe it was the vulnerability shining in her big, bright, brown eyes, or that long, Orphan Annie red hair, but she exuded an innocence I’d never seen in a woman, paired with a genuine goodness—plus a killer pair of legs and a mega-watt smile that she seemed to only pull out for me—and I was hooked. But, I’d never taken things further than breakfast on Monday mornings and simple hellos. A sweet girl like her didn’t need to be mixed up with a man like me, who lived a life of uncertainty and danger. And, besides, she’d given no indication that she was interested at all. She was friendly because it was her job.
Still, I came by every single Monday morning because I wanted to get my fix of that sunny smile and the café’s amazing pancakes.
I slowed to a walk a few blocks from Maverick’s to catch my breath, thankful when I spotted her red hair through the front window.
I pushed inside and inhaled appreciatively. She a
lready had the coffee brewing. I made my way to my usual seat at the counter and waited for her to notice me, ignoring the tripping of my heartbeat at the mere sight of her.
She finally glanced up from filling a sugar container. The way her face lit in an automatic, genuine, certifiably gorgeous grin made my heart melt. “Good morning.”
“Hey.”
“Your usual?”
I nodded and feigned paying attention to the news on the television. Why I could never talk to her in actual sentences was beyond me. I never talked much to anyone, but still, it was a mystery, even to me.
“Okay.” Still, she was always so chipper and sweet. “Coming right up.”
I watched her disappear to put in my order and get my drink. Beside me, the bell on the door chimed as Rebekah, my buddy Maverick’s woman and the owner of the café, strolled inside.
“Hey, Kid,” she said, gliding up to kiss my cheek, smelling of oranges and cinnamon.
“Hey there.”
Carissa reappeared with my water and a glass of orange juice and set them down with a smile and a hello for her boss.
The two women chatted while I sat there between them like a dummy, nodding when it was appropriate and sipping my water, somehow feeling like I was under a microscope and not understanding why.
After a few minutes, Carissa walked away, saying something about checking on my food.
“Kid.”
I snapped my head around at the stern tone of Rebekah’s voice.
“Seriously.”
“What?” I demanded, not sure what the hell she was talking about.
“Are you for real right now?” Her gaze darted toward the kitchen then back.
“About what?”
“The girl likes you, you moron.”
“What?” My eyes zipped toward Carissa, who was chatting at the kitchen window with the cook. She looked over at me, her smile growing. I turned back to Rebekah. “No.” My body fought the denial, desperately wanting it to be true.
“Are you really that dense that you can’t see it?”
“I guess.” I fidgeted in my seat. “I don’t think—”
“Oh, I know you don’t think,” she cut me off. “The question is, do you like her?” She glanced over again. “She’ll be back in a second, so we don’t have much time. But, all of your coming in every week, sitting in her section, making goo-goo eyes at her, is a tease, ya know? If you don’t like her, maybe tone it down a notch, okay? But, if you do, for goodness sake, ask the poor girl out and put her out of her misery, Kid.”
I was frowning as she strolled away and Carissa popped back over with my breakfast, all smiles and sweetness. First off, goo-goo eyes? Marines did not make goo-goo eyes. But, second, could Rebekah be right? Was there a chance in hell I was hurting the poor girl’s feelings?
Damn it.
I dropped my head and cupped the back of my neck.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly, slamming the final nail into my coffin of self-loathing.
I lifted my eyes to hers. “Would you . . .” The words felt rusty and thick on my tongue. I tried again, feeling ten times the fool. “I was wondering . . . if you’d like to go out? With me?”
Her Hershey’s kisses eyes rounded in surprise. “You’re asking me out?”
I nodded.
“Like . . . out?”
“Yes.” Was this a horrible idea? Shit. But I’d started this. I would see it through. “Like out. On a date.”
She stared at me for a long moment, then in a reaction I would’ve never expected, wilted back against the counter behind her, as if in relief. “Finally.”
I arrived at Carissa’s small apartment complex more nervous than I’d ever been in my entire life. I hadn’t been this anxious before any mission, before telling my mom I’d wrecked our only car when I was sixteen, before anything.
I took a sharpshooter’s breath, clutched the bouquet of flowers in my sweaty fist, and knocked on her door.
I had a night of dinner and drinks and listening to live music at a romantic little place planned since I had no idea if she liked to dance. I wanted to talk and get to know her. I wanted her to get to know me. I had no idea if we could have any kind of a relationship, but I was willing to—
Every thought froze in its tracks when she swung open the door and faced me, her pale cheeks mottled and tear-streaked, though she was obviously trying valiantly to hide her distress from me.
“Carissa?”
“Hey, come on in. I’ll just be a minute.”
I frowned but followed her inside. Her place smelled of her, lemon and vanilla. It was light and airy, making the small apartment seem larger than it really was.
She grabbed her purse, and with her back to me, she bowed her head, her entire body sagging in obvious sadness.
“Hey.” I approached her, not sure what to do, but needing to do something—to fix whatever was bothering her. Gently, I touched her shoulder. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Suddenly, she spun and threw herself into my chest as uncontrollable sobs began to wrack her body.
I collected her in my arms in an automatic gesture and consoled her, though I had no idea what had happened to the sunny girl I’d left at the café that morning. I led her toward her sofa and sat with her while she cried it out against my chest. I let my fingers run through her soft, red curls and caress her back, touching her in ways I would’ve never dared otherwise.
As her tears dried up, she stayed in my arms, her hands against my pecs, her fingers plucking at the buttons on my shirt, her nose to my collarbone. Her breath was hot against my skin as she exhaled the last of her spent emotion.
“Thank you,” she whispered finally.
“Don’t mention it.” I ran a fingertip down her arm. “Wanna talk about it?”
“I got the call that my uncle died today.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. You were close?” I kept caressing her arm, her back, her hair.
“I don’t really have a lot of family,” she said softly, leaning farther into me like a snuggly cat, her hand on my waist. “My aunt and uncle were basically it. They were like my parents. Now, it’s just my Aunt Linda.”
“That sucks. I’m so sorry.” I twirled a curl around my index finger. “Where does she live?”
“Montana.” Her fingertips just grazed the skin between my T-shirt and my jeans, though I didn’t think she realized it. I sucked in a breath.
I nodded and fought for something to say. Something serious and sympathetic that was appropriate for the moment, even though all I could focus on was the way her flesh felt on mine and the way she’d become like my second skin.
We sat quietly for several minutes as I offered her whatever comfort I could, all while praying she didn’t notice my body’s uncontrollable reaction to her below the belt.
She nuzzled closer, her mouth at my throat, just under my ear. “Can I ask you something?” she asked, her voice whisper soft.
“Sure.” My own voice was rough and needy. I tried to shift my position to ease my discomfort, but she had me pinned.
“They call you Kid.”
I nodded.
“Why?”
“Because I’m the youngest on the team.”
“What should I call you?” Her fingers found my abs. It definitely wasn’t an accident this time. I saw it in her eyes as they lifted to mine, mirroring back everything I was feeling in that moment.
I was young.
I was quiet.
But I was still all man.
I grabbed her waist and flipped us both until I had her pinned beneath me, and we were nose to nose and eye to eye. My hardness to her softness.
She did not hesitate to reach up and run her fingers through my short hair, arching her body to mine in a silent offering.
I leaned down, my lips a breath away from hers. “Cody,” I whispered just before I claimed her in our first kiss that would lead to so much more. That would lead to everything. “You should call me Cody.”
Cody
Five months later . . .
My team and I had spent the last several months chasing our tails, hunting down Mustaf Al Shadeek and his second-in-command, Mohammed Mahiir.
After Tex had received a cryptic message from El Lobo Blanco, warning of a bombing of the U.S. Embassy in Zimbabwe, we’d scrambled for intel and resources, but we’d still been unable to stop it. Dozens of people had been killed in the attack, and we’d been on a wild goose chase ever since, leading us through Africa to Yemen to Iran, then finally back to where it all started for us in Syria.
Tex continued to feed us leads, thanks to El Lobo Blanco—who we now knew to be Brianne Kennard, the best friend of Grace Trevino, my buddy Lucky’s girlfriend—but so far all we’d managed to do was stop one more attack on a U.S. military convoy and confiscate a cache of weapons. No Shadeek and no Mahiir. Also, there had been no sign of Brianne or the Mexican kingpin, Marco Esteban, who still held her hostage and was apparently helping to arm Shadeek so he could carry out these attacks.
It’s a strange world, but Grace seemed to have proven herself legit, and she swore by her friend, Brianne. Lucky believed her, so I was inclined to believe her, too. I’d seen the evidence of the Mexican drug cartel forcing them both to do their dirty work, using their love and loyalty against them.
But, damn it, if we didn’t catch a break, and soon, it was obvious that there would be more attacks. Threats were coming in daily against other U.S. embassies. It was only a matter of time before Shadeek struck again. We had to find him and eliminate the threat.
