by Cara Carnes
Dylan held her hair back as she purged the meager contents of her stomach into the waste basket. Brant held out a cool washcloth and a cup of water when she finished. She rinsed her mouth out, then held still as Dylan washed her face.
“She’ll need a few stitches along her eyebrow,” Brant commented. “She may have a mild concussion. Watch her closely, monitor her often when she sleeps. Bed rest for the next couple of days. I’m not a psychologist, but she should talk to someone. You have a psychiatrist here now, for PTSD?”
“Not anymore,” Dylan said. “Long story. Have Marshall fill you in.”
“You’ll get another one though, right? I mean, the whole debriefing your day twenty minutes at night and twenty minutes in the morning had merit, you know? You guys need someone here to lead the group sessions and work with people one on one,” Mary said.
“We’ll find someone else, sweetheart.”
“There’s a psychiatrist in Nomad,” Brant offered. “She’s good. I can give her a call. See if she’ll come out here and help until you find someone else.”
“The last female doc we got had her big brother kidnap Mary. I’m not liking the idea of another stranger coming into the compound.”
“She served long enough to earn her medical degree. She probably saw more field time than whoever you had before. Give her a chance. I’ll even sit second chair for the group therapy if you want. The Warrior’s Path project is too important to table the good you can do.”
“Dylan, she could help Addy, too. You know she’ll need to talk to someone.” She swallowed back the nervousness crawling up her throat. “You will, too.”
“How about I make you a deal? I’ll get Nolan to work with Brant on getting his friend in if you promise me you’ll stop worrying about everyone. Let us handle things for a while.”
“I’m not the one who shot someone today,” she whispered. “Promise you’ll give it to me when you’re ready. That’s what we agreed, right? I—I know I screwed up when I used what you said against you, but I was trying to protect you.”
“I know, sweetheart. It’s one of the many things I’m starting to love about you.” He kissed her softly. “I’ll be back. I’m going to walk Brant out.”
Mary used the time to pad into the bathroom and tend to business. She jumped into the shower and started scrubbing away the day. She couldn’t get clean. Driggs. Peter. Chicago. San Antonio. Ugh.
The shower curtain pulled back. Dylan’s assessing gaze swept over her, more concerned than sexual. Mary let the anticipation flaring in her pulse to lead the moment. She reached out and pulled on him.
He yanked his shirt over his head as water pounded down on her body. She felt stupid with her casted arm wrapped in a baggie, but nothing mattered except watching Dylan shimmy out of his jeans and boxers. Her heartbeat accelerated, a ragged pattering. A reminder she was alive. Safe.
Though she wanted his mouth on hers, she knew the contact would hurt more than it would cure the ache inside her. The moment was about hot and heavy sex. It was a reminder of what they’d almost lost.
“Jesus, sweetheart, your face.” He kissed along her battered eyes, a feathery contact she barely felt, though the chain reaction spread through her entire body.
She trembled as he washed her hair. Twice. Then conditioned. Twice. Eyes closed, she leaned into his strength, warmth, and let him wash the dried blood and filth from her body. Some hers. Some Peter’s. Tears ran freely between them. Her hand roamed his body, washing and massaging, touching and enjoying.
Though she wanted him more than the breaths she dragged in through bruised ribs, she knew he wouldn’t make love to her, not when she still wore more reminders of what had just happened than ever before.
“You’re all that matters, Dylan Mason. I realized that too late. If it means making things work between us, I’ll walk away from ops. From the job.” She coiled her fingers around his hardened length. “You’re all I need.”
“Mary.” He dragged her name out, a plea and a promise rolled into one heady, gravely sound. He kissed along her neck and down her chest. Fingers taunted her hard nipples. His mouth followed, blazing a trail of fiery warmth and desire. She stroked his cock, relishing the small groans and rumbles he emitted. The way his body trembled wherever she kissed, touched.
They stroked, petted, and tasted, a languid exploration that somehow washed away more of the day’s filth than the soap and water. Dylan cupped her sex. She thrust against his hand, urging him to give her the release, so close she felt it rising from deep within.
Pleasure shot through her core as she clenched his fingers. He held her in place and started a firm, confident pace that seduced her closer and closer to the spiraling nirvana. She used the same rhythm, tumbled into the deep green depths of his gaze.
“I love you, Dylan,” she whispered. “I know it’s too soon, but I’ve never felt...After what happened today, I had to say it. I couldn’t risk not having another chance. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mary Reynolds. And I love you, Edge. I want you to know I love both sides of who you are. It’s important you know that after today. I’ll love and protect you both with my life. Everything I am and will be.” He kissed her as he found her clit and rolled the sensitive nub beneath his deft fingertips.
She came hard, her mouth scant millimeters from his. She drew in his breath as her own and worked his hard length. She wanted him inside her, but she sensed his need to wait, give her time to recover from today.
The patience made her love him even more. She clung to him as they came together. Spent, she collapsed against him. He carried her from the shower and towel dried her.
He glanced over his shoulder, thunderously so, at the door. “Wait here, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.”
Mary sat on the toilet, wrapped in a towel. Conversation drifted through the door. Her body tightened. She didn’t want to welcome anyone, converse about the day, or anything. She wanted to crawl into Dylan’s bed. With Dylan.
He returned quickly.
She rose. “Who’s outside?”
“The girls. The brothers. Who isn’t outside would be a better question. I told them we’d get you dressed then head to the main house. Mom wants us there tonight.”
“But...”
“She needs us under her roof. She heard enough about today to get scared. We’re all crashing there tonight, giving her the calm of family and friends. Together. Safe. Loved.” Dylan smiled. “She’s cooking a late dinner.”
Mary’s stomach growled.
“I got you some shorts and a shirt of mine. I can go get your clothes if you want, but I love how sexy you are in mine.”
Her heart banged wildly again. “I like yours better.”
She dressed and followed him out and toed-on her flip flops. She grabbed the brush from the dresser and slipped it into her pocket. Her hair was probably a wreck. Dylan was in a pair of low-hanging shorts and a sleeveless shirt.
He drove them to the main house despite her protests they could walk. Everyone was huddled around the large, wraparound porch when they pulled up. They rushed the car like she was a queen or something. She got a couple tight hugs from Bree and Rhea, then Dylan was there, in front of her, growling about injured ribs.
She offered everyone a smile as they headed into the house. Vi, Bree, and Rhea dragged her into the adjoining room. Riley and Addy were hot on their heels. Mary lunged for the latter, hugging her tight as a fresh wave of tears spilled.
“I’m so sorry about Peter. I’m so so sorry.” She squeezed both Addy’s shoulders and looked into her watery eyes. “He didn’t have a choice.”
“I know.” She wiped her face. “I’ve been over everything a hundred times, and I can’t make sense of it all.”
“We’ll likely never unravel everything,” Vi whispered. “We’re here, whenever you’re ready to talk. That goes for you, too, Mary.”
“Dylan’s bringing in a psychiatrist from Nomad, some woman Brant knows.” She peeked at
Addy. “I was thinking maybe you and I could go together. It’ll be easier that way.”
“Yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Good.” Bree put her hands together. “Let’s get back out there before Dylan sends a search party for you.”
Mary chuckled. Anticipation beaded along her skin as her heart swelled. She was surrounded by her friends. The makeshift family. Dylan’s entire brood. As they made their way into the living room, everything misplaced in her life locked into place.
Dylan sat on the loveseat, eating up the entire space with his glower. Bree and Rhea giggled as she headed off in his direction. Her pulse quickened as the impulse she’d had back in his compound quarters had its moment of fruition.
He and just about everyone else tracked her movements as she passed people and offered hugs and whispers of gratitude to his brothers. Fallon. Gage. She reached into the pocket of the shorts she’d borrowed and dragged the hairbrush out. She turned and plopped on the carpet between his feet, back to him before he could comment. Brush held up in her good hand she waited.
“Oh my God.” Riley gasped the words. Tears reflected in her friend’s gaze.
“Why the hell are you crying?” Marshall asked.
“Oh shut up, you’re ruining the moment,” Riley ordered with watery words.
Mary offered Dylan’s little sister a smile through her own watery eyes as Dylan took the brush and slowly started working the ratty mess that was her hair. Jesse smiled warmly from across the room, a knowing gleam in his gaze.
She doubted anyone else in the room would ever know what the moment meant, the calm she gave him. What it meant to her. It’d be a little secret between the four of them until Jesse found his calm. For now, she hoped Dylan understood what she was promising.
No matter what, they’d have this. The calm.
Mrs. Mason fussed and fritzed over Mary a few minutes before her sons dragged her away and sat her between Jesse and Dallas. The billion-watt smile on her face indicated she loved every second of their attention along with the fact they’d hit pause on the messed-up events of the past several weeks and enjoyed being here, the home they grew up in.
Mary’s heart ached for what Addy was going through. She couldn’t imagine. Not even close. She’d been close to Peter, but he hadn’t been a brother. Flesh and blood. Mary had lost her half-brother, but that’d been his choice. He’d turned...
Okay, yeah, maybe she did know a thing or two about it. Dylan braided her hair then went about massaging the stress from her shoulders.
“Ma mentioned we should refurbish the old foreman’s house, maybe construct a few more small cottages along the back section of the ranch, beyond the compound,” Marshall commented. “We told her we were going to work on obtaining the old Burton place.”
“That’d make a great fixer-upper for a young couple starting out. Lots of space for little ones,” she commented not so subtly.
Dylan chuckled behind Mary. All his brothers did as well, an understanding and amused glimmer in their eyes. Riley laughed outright. Tears rolled down her face. Addy even smiled. Mary would happily give Dylan’s mom that play over again a hundred times to see a smile on her friend’s face.
She rubbed her belly and thought about carrying Dylan’s babies. Yeah, that’d be pretty good. Her toes curled in her flip-flops as she leaned her head back and looked at him upside down. A knowing smirk spread across his face.
Her man loved her. How cool was that?
“I know you’re going to be taking a couple weeks off, but we’ve got a slew of applications coming in. Hell, we have operatives just showing up. Resino and Nomad are filled. It’s like a family reunion.”
“Word’s out. The Quillery Edge is at The Arsenal,” Nolan commented. “And Addy. She’s gotten quite a reputation as getting the job done in the field. Once they found out we have all three, they want in bad.”
“And we’re staying, too!” Bree shouted, hands up in the air. “I get to be part of the bad-ass brigade. Dallas even promised I could play with the toys down in the basement. On a real firing range. Can you believe that?”
“No, no I can’t,” Addy said. “We chatted about this, guys. She has a serious obsession with being a GI Joe version of Nancy Drew. You can’t fuel that.”
“Sorry, she just gets so excited about all the stuff, and we’ve got some seriously cool gear.” Dallas flashed a smile. “I won’t show her the stuff that explodes, okay?”
“The Pentagon is officially in business,” Riley shouted.
The guys chuckled. Heat rose in Mary’s cheeks. Dylan leaned down and kissed her. “Cute as hell, sweetheart. The Pentagon? Real cute.”
She ignored his teasing and focused on Riley. “Since I’m going to have some time off, I figured Dylan and I could look into that trouble you mentioned. Your friend, Rachelle?”
“Rache? What trouble?” Brant asked.
“We’ll chat later. It’s going to be okay. You know things in Marville are super creepy. Dylan said they’d look into it. I’m going to get her to stay out here a few weeks, use the renovations as an excuse. She loves that sort of thing,” Riley said.
“And she’s great at it,” Brant commented. “Keeping her mind on stuff out here will help. I’m in. Whatever it is, I’m in.”
The statement was meant for Dylan. Mary smirked to herself as she realized the doctor had more than a passing interest in Riley’s friend. The twinkle in the blonde’s eyes said she’d figured out the same thing.
Interesting.
“What about Hive? What are you going to do, Addy?” Rhea asked.
“Well, Marshall and the guys were talking with me earlier. If Vi and Mary will help, I’m thinking we’ll consolidate everything. Merge Hive into The Arsenal. I’d come on as a team leader. Graves is already on board to take a team, assuming you two geeks find us enough operatives to knock into shape.”
“Yeah, we can do that,” Vi said.
There it was. The final pieces tumbled into place. Mary smiled as Dylan hauled her up and perched her on his lap.
“You about ready for bed, sweetheart?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“You really want to sleep? I’m kind of wanting to pick up where we left off,” she whispered. “Or is it too weird, in your mom’s house?”
“This is your home, too. Once we get started on the renovations, I want you to pick out whichever place you like the most. We’ll get it put to rights, then we can make it our own. Whatever you want.” He caressed her cheek. “Then, when things are settled and you’re ready, I want my ring on your finger.”
“Holy shit,” Cord muttered from nearby.
“You...” Heat rose in her cheeks as a couple knowing grins spread near them. “Did you just propose? I’m in ratty shorts and flip-flops in your mom’s living room. You can’t just spring something like that. That’s worse than you dragging me to Bubba’s looking like a bridge troll.”
“Is that a no?” he asked.
“No, it’s not a no. It’s a what the heck?” She took a deep, shaky breath as the shock settled in.
Mrs. Dylan Mason. Mary Mason. Ha. She really liked that. Warmth spread through her. She leaned in and kissed his mouth. Gaze locked, she whispered, “Whenever. Wherever. However. Yes, I’ll marry you. You think your mom will help arrange stuff?”
“Yes!” She shouted from across the room, tears in her eyes. “Yes, dear! I know just the thing.” She sprang up from the sofa. “I need to make some calls.”
Laughter boomed through the room. Dylan scooped her up into his arms and carried her upstairs. Tomorrow was soon enough to deal with whatever elaborate plans his mom would come up with. For tonight, she’d celebrate life. Happiness.
Love.
Most of all, she’d found her other half. Dylan understood what made her The Edge. He took all the jagged pieces of her—Mary, the Edge, her past—and made her whole.
~THE END~
ABOUT CARA
Born in small-t
own Texas, Cara Carnes was a princess, a pirate, fashion model, actress, rock star and Jon Bon Jovi’s wife all before the age of 13.
In reality, her fascination for enthralling worlds took seed somewhere amidst a somewhat dull day job and a wonderful life filled with family and friends. When she’s not cemented to her chair, Cara loves travelling, photography and reading.
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