by S. M. Butler
That was hardly the same. And way more important. “What’s wrong with your mom?”
“She’s got diabetes, and she doesn’t always manage it well. And after my dad died, she was diagnosed as having an anxiety disorder, and it’s gotten way worse since my grandfather passed.” He winced. “I should probably move back there full-time, but I…”
“You can’t.” She touched his face, her heart aching for him. “No, of course you can’t.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“My general dislike and distrust of men isn’t even on the same scale as what you’re dealing with. Tell me more about what the truck stop needs.”
“Tell me who hurt you so I can kill him.”
She took a deep breath. “He outranks you. Is there something I can do to help?”
“What do you mean, he outranks me?”
“Let it go. You know what it’s like for a woman in uniform.” She scowled at him. “Or maybe you don’t. No chicks in the SEAL teams, right?”
“That’s not my call.”
“Whatever. It’s in the past.”
“No, not whatever. We’ve got eighteen hours to hash out this shit between us.”
“Oh, come on. We’re alone on a secluded island and I packed four bikinis, each one skimpier than the last. Do you really want to talk?”
“First of all, what you do isn’t talk. You bark. And secondly, I like the bikinis—a lot. But I don’t like it when you throw that at me like I’m not supposed to notice you’re a beautiful woman.”
“What? I didn’t say it like that.”
“You said it like something.” He swore under his breath in Spanish. She’d noticed he only used it when they were alone, when she pushed him. And this time she hadn’t caught what he said. She felt cheated, like she’d missed a secret glimpse into his mind.
“Well…” she sighed. Man, this was awkward. “You are a great guy. But you are also a little bit like…well, like all guys. You gave me a cheesy pick-up line while I had a Glock pointed at your head. All because you saw some boobs in a bikini top.”
“Pretty sure the Glock and your legs and the fucking smirk on your face had just as much to do with my instant hard-on as your breasts did, because that’s your whole package, and I like it, but sure. Think the worst of me. Let’s see how far that gets you.”
“Hey, hey.” Now it was her turn to placate him. “I’m sorry. I don’t think the worst of you. I’m just saying that… even you, even the good guys, you sometimes objectify women.”
“First of all, I don’t think any of that shit, cariño. I hard-core believe that beauty comes from within. We’ve both worked with guys who can be vain. They’re fit as fuck and they let that go to their heads. Then they get a leg blown off—or worse—and all of a sudden, they want to die.” Vince squeezed her arm with his hand, then smoothed over that spot with a gentle rub. “Self-worth can’t start and end with what our bodies look like because that’s damn fragile.”
She made a face because he was right. Damn him and his secret sensitive side. “Wow.”
“What?”
“You…you’re right. And now I feel like an ass.”
“Nah, don’t. Some men are assholes who objectify women. But I’m not one of them. And second of all…to me, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world. Inside and out. Temper and all. Your breasts and your legs and tan lines and your gorgeous blue eyes. I’m not objectifying you when I notice that. I’m appreciating it, because it blows me away. It always will.”
She snaked her arms around him and squeezed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. And I feel the same way.”
“You think I’m the most beautiful woman in the world?” He laughed.
“Yep. With the longest eyelashes and nicest legs.” She sobered up. “I really am sorry. I’ve been too hard on you.”
“I think you’ve hinted enough that there’s some good reasons. Who was he?”
She wiggled closer in his lap. The only way she could tell him about David was if she was holding on for dear life—and if she didn’t have to see Vince’s face while she talked. “You need to know that I was stupid. Incredibly stupid. So you don’t need to tell me that again, okay? I’ve beaten myself up about it many, many times.”
“Just tell me,” he said quietly, his hands splaying wide across her back. She closed her eyes and let the heat of his skin warm her. She was chilled despite the late afternoon warmth of the Caribbean sun.
“His name is David. We met in Afghanistan. He was a liaison officer, and my section had been assigned to escort him and his team to a few friendly villages. The first three were day trips, but the last two, we made camp for a night each time. And he struck up a conversation with me.”
Both of them had known it was against the rules. He wasn’t directly up her chain of command, but it was close enough that he was considered her superior.
Vince tensed as the silence stretched out. “When did he seduce you?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What was his rank?”
“He was a major.”
“Then yes, it was fucking like that. When?”
She nervously swiped her tongue across her lower lip. “While we were still in Afghanistan. My roommate thought it was romantic. So she gave us privacy. I was…I thought we were equals in the relationship.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing, at first. Our returns were staggered. He was home for almost a month when I got back, and he couldn’t make the coming home ceremony, but he brought me takeout that night and slept over. Then he pulled away, claimed it was too risky. I was—” She’d felt heartbroken, at the time, but now she knew better. “I was disappointed. And confused. I could keep a secret, and I wasn’t looking for a real relationship. We both worked too much to socialize as a couple. But then he told me he was going back to his wife.”
“He was married?” Vince’s voice had dropped to a sharp slice of sound, just above a whisper.
“Yes. That was the first I’d heard of it. And that was the end…until he emailed me a few month later to say he was leaving his wife again, this time for good.” Her voice cracked as she recounted going out on actual dates, and then the last time, where he’d introduced her to his kids.
She’d never forget how easily she fell for his lies. “Just as a friend, Larken. They’re not ready to know I’m dating yet.” He’d told her that, and she’d made them cookies and promised they could come back. He’d made her lie, too.
Larken closed her eyes as Vince shifted his hands, gripping her arms. He moved her away from his body, but he didn’t move her far. Just enough so he could touch his fingers under her jaw and lift her chin so she was looking at him. She assumed—it felt like they were face to face. Like a coward, her eyes were still shut.
“Look at me, cariño.”
Her heart leaped at the endearment. She blinked her eyes open.
His steady brown gaze was locked on her face. “You did nothing wrong.”
“That’s not what the U.S. Army decided.”
“How did they find out?”
“His wife. Turned out he wasn’t exactly separated either time.”
“Please tell me he was dishonorably discharged.”
She nodded. “Conduct unbecoming an officer.”
“And you?”
“I’m here.” Her punishment had been less severe, but her career had still been cut short. She’d run out her contract as a supply clerk and after two seasons of playing over-qualified lifeguard at a resort in Clearwater, she’d leapt at Rik’s offer.
“That’s…well, it’s fucked.”
She shook her head. “I ignored a lot of clues. I didn’t know, honest to God I didn’t, but something didn’t add up. And I didn’t ask any questions.”
Resignation and understanding dueled in his eyes. “So you don’t trust easy now.”
“I…no. I don’t.” It hurt to acknowledge how bitter and brittle David had made her.
/> “And here I come, full of swagger and impossible good looks…” He winked at her as she laughed despite herself. “Right? I’m irresistible even though you can’t trust me. The mysterious man from your past.”
“You’re not that mysterious. And I trust you. I do.”
“You wanna talk about the marksman competition?” He pulled her close again, kissing her jaw, then nuzzling her neck. His beard seemed to be getting longer by the minute, and now it brushed her skin.
She shivered.
He nudged her again, and she sighed.
“What is it?” he asked, his voice melting like butter on a hot plan. From serious to sizzling in no time flat.
“I don’t want to talk anymore.”
“Because of some neck kisses?” he nipped at her skin. “You’re so easy all of a sudden. I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Because of your stubble, you wild man.”
“Feels good?”
She breathed in deeply. “So good.”
“You deserve it.”
She turned to straddle him and pressed her index finger against his lips, shushing him. “You deserve to feel good, too.”
He rolled back onto the platform, carrying her with him. They tumbled until she was flat on her back and Vince loomed over her, filthy intentions clearly written all over his face. “Then we’re in agreement on the next team building exercise.”
Chapter Eight
‡
They’d spent the night in the cabin, and after a Larken special—protein bar and pineapple juice—for breakfast, they headed down to the beach to watch the sunrise.
As pink sky faded to a brighter yellow, they waded into the ocean together, hand in hand. After a long, exhausting, wonderful swim together, Larken discovered that beach sex was extra-sandy and only half as romantic as she expected, but then Vince carried her into the ocean again to wash off, and that tipped the scales back to sweet.
By the time Jackson arrived to pick them up, though, she was ready for a shower. And her bed—with company.
“Are you thinking about the fact we didn’t find any buried treasure?” Vince whispered in her ear.
She rolled her eyes. “We didn’t look for any.”
“Right. You kept distracting me with your breasts.”
“No. There is no treasure.” She stared at Jackson’s back. Could he hear them?
“Next time we can actually look.”
“I’m going to throw you off the boat.”
“I’d like to see you try,” he murmured, laughing at her under his breath.
“I could flip you,” she said hotly.
“I’d have you flat on your back in the bottom of the boat before you knew what hit you.”
Her nipples perked up at the idea of being pinned down. Turnabout was fair play. “Actually, I was thinking about a hot, steamy shower. We could squeeze into my bathroom together, or there’s an outdoor shower behind my cottage. It’s got this great wide bench. I bet if I kneel on it, I’ll be at exactly the right height for you to—”
He cut her off at the same as he shifted in his seat. “You haven’t had enough of the outdoors?”
She gave a not-so-subtle look at his erection and slowly shook her head.
“I’m a lucky bastard, then,” he grinned, sending tingles up and down her spine as he slanted his mouth against hers.
But when they docked, Rik was waiting.
He’d given her twenty-four hours alone with Vince. Now there was work to be done. They showered quickly and separately, then dressed in clean clothes and met the group back at the main house. Vince held her hand most of the way down the path, and it surprised her how much she liked that little bit of contact.
As long as they didn’t go too fast or push each other too far, this might just work out.
Over a working lunch, they briefed Vince on their last two missions and gave him a high-level overview of their security clients—in addition to the occasional high-stakes rescue, Trent and Jackson needed something to keep them busy, and rich people paid a lot of money for handsome, muscled men to install custom security systems. They outsourced the more generic bodyguard duties to larger organizations that specialized in that sort of thing.
Neither man wanted to be seen carrying Jennifer Lawrence’s puppy in and out of New York department stores.
“I can help with that work as well,” Vince said gruffly, rocking back in his chair. “I’m going to be traveling back and forth to the mainland for my family responsibilities, might as well put the travel to good use.”
“Larken, can you give an update on the training facility?” It was mostly a recap, although Jackson and Trent had been gone for most of the two weeks prior to Vince’s arrival, so she caught them up to speed, too. Her plan was to offer their clients a retreat-style self-defense course. Calli was happy to organize meals and lodging. It would mean hiring some housekeeping and wait staff, but money wasn’t an issue, and the amount of coin they’d be charging anyway would keep the project well in the black.
“The range is cleared and I’ve got a good collection of targets. We’ll need an armories built down there for orderly dispensing of weapons, but it’s coming together nicely.”
“Range?” Vince’s chair clattered as he sat straight-up, his gaze glued to Larken’s face.
“Yeah. No point in having this nice big private island if we can’t shoot whenever we want, right?”
He nodded slowly. “Right.”
“What are you thinking?”
“We should make use of that later.”
“Deal.” She laughed. “Maybe I’ll finally reclaim the title of top marksman from you.”
A look she couldn’t decipher twisted his face into a smirk. “You think you could?”
Yeah, she did. While he’d spent the last dozen years jumping out of planes and diving deep under water and a whole bunch of other ridiculous things, she’d been a grunt. A good one, who spent as much time as she could on a range. And while she’d never put her name in for the annual competition again, she’d trained two kids who’d been ended up in the top three, without having gone to sniper school.
He nodded, one brow cocked. “Deal. How about we make it interesting?”
“What were you thinking?”
He pulled the Browning he’d won in the poker game from his shoulder holster and set it on the table. “I’ll put that in.”
“Okay, I’ll get some cash.”
“No cash.” His voice slicked out like liquid silk, rushing over her as his meaning became clear. “Your key.”
“You want another week in Casa White?”
“Nope. I want the cottage permanently.” That look flickered in his eyes again, but it disappeared before she could lock on to its meaning.
“No deal.” She didn’t want to put her haven on the line.
“Have a little faith in yourself, Larken.”
He said it gently, but suddenly she was painfully aware that her teammates were all watching. All hearing Vince point out that she didn’t have faith in herself. Damn him, because it wasn’t true, not really, but it had been, and either way, it was all too close to home. Hot embarrassment flooded her chest, but before she could push away from the table and storm off, Rik’s voice interjected.
“I’m in.”
She snapped her gaze to her boss, who just shrugged. “I like to shoot, too.”
Ha. That was an understatement. Rik could out-shoot both of them, backwards and on cross-country skis. Norwegian freak. But the distraction worked—she never backed down from a challenge. “You want my cottage, boss?”
“You’re going to turn my magnificent house into a glorified bed and breakfast. I wouldn’t mind a little privacy with my wife.”
“Fine.” She yanked her key out of her pocket and tossed it next to the Browning. “I’m in.”
Rik added a clip of money to the pile, then Jackson threw on a pair of Miami Heat tickets.
He shrugged at the scandalized look Mats
gave him. “What? That’s not cheaping out. They’re courtside.”
The younger Norwegian rolled his eyes, tossing in a roll of bills. “Fine. I’m in. I want that Browning back.”
That just left Calli, who laughingly bowed out, and Trent, who tossed on another one of his listening pens.
“Cheap-ass bastard.” Jackson muttered, which made Mats howl in outrage. “Shut. Up. Courtside tickets are a big fucking deal.”
Rik held up his hand and everyone quieted down. “All right, Larken. What are we shooting?”
“M-16, three position, at three hundred and six hundred yards. and a 9 mm pistol of your choice, slow-fire and rapid-fire, at twenty-five and fifty meters.” The familiar rules spilled out of her with ease. “We’ll skip the closer distances because we’re not wusses, right?”
“That favors the snipers among us,” Jackson grumbled good-naturedly.
“Oh, that’s right, you SEALs prefer to let other people do the hard work for you, right?”
Vince snorted. “Hiding in a tree or on a roof is hard work, now?”
She grinned at him. “Gotta be very, very quiet.”
“How the hell do you manage that?” he asked with a slow, lazy wink.
The trash talk wicked away the spike of tension. She excused herself to grab the rifles from the weapons room, a smile on her face. They all headed out as a group for the range area, and when Vince looped his fingers through hers, she held on tight.
Once they had the range set up for three hundred yards, she repeated the rules for the ten rounds of competition. They’d shoot from standing, kneeling and prone at both distances with the rifles, then do two rounds with the pistols at twenty-five and fifty meters.
She’d have an advantage, with the Norwegians, for the rifle rounds. It would be in the pistol rounds that the former SEALs—and Trent, the wily bugger—might close the gap.
So it wasn’t a surprise that Rik was in the lead by the end of the first set and Jackson was scraping the bottom of the list. What was a surprise was Vince was hot on her heels in third place, edging out Mats.
Also a surprise was how that didn’t concern her in the least.
