by Avery Gale
“My grandmother always reminded us that we should never delay joy. I’m not sure I truly understood what she was talking about until her memorial service, listening to her friends and family recount all their memories of her spontaneous moments of laughter and what she called shenanigans. As I sat there, I realized not one person talked about the time she spent working, they only spoke of all the wonderful memories they had of her fun-loving spirit and wise counsel.” By the time he’d finished speaking, Lakyn felt tears streaming down her cheeks.
“It’s very humbling to know I’ve spent so much of my life focused on nothing but work. Before the great tubing caper, I hadn’t done anything just for the fun of it since I first started modeling as a child. Everything has always been about working and making money… money that would someday fund my lifelong dream of designing clothing and accessories.” Trac joined them and gave her a rueful smile.
“Juan’s right, you know, life is brutally short and working yourself into an early grave is no way to spend the time you’ve been given.” Leaning forward, he pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, and his masculine scent washed over her, a stark reminder there was more to life than running from one job to the next. “Let us accompany you to New York. You need the protection and help with management, and we’re capable and willing.”
“And we won’t care if you use us for sex—that’s got to count for something.” Juan’s teasing words made her laugh, and she was grateful for the change in the mood surrounding them. What could be better than hot guys to keep me safe who are even better in bed? If it was so perfect, why did she feel as if something was missing? Chastising herself for seeing the glass as half full, Lakyn quickly thanked them, and the three of them began making travel plans.
Chapter Nineteen
Cooper stood alongside the stone fireplace in the Wests office, staring at his sister, certain she’d lost her ever-loving mind. He’d listened as she detailed the reasons she felt the callback she’d gotten was out of the ordinary, and he understood her reasoning. What he didn’t understand was why she’d go back when she knew it was likely a set-up.
Knowing Trac Hughes and Juan Rivera were planning to return with her was only a small comfort. Cooper’s reservation was the men’s close relationship with Lakyn. He knew as well as anyone how easy it was to become distracted by a woman you were charged with protecting—or one you were supposed to be shadowing to gather information rather than fucking on every available horizontal surface.
“Hey, big brother, I recognize that glazed over look. You’re totally zoned out. Holy hand bells, you aren’t listening to anything I’m saying. Drat, that’s flipping annoying. Just so you know, I’m not asking your permission. I’m simply playing nice and giving you a heads up that I have to leave for a while.”
Fuck. She was right—about zoning out at least, but he had heard her every word. As a Navy SEAL, Cooper had already been good at active listening while dividing his attention and sorting through a related problem, but his Agency training had ramped that up several notches. It seemed he had a natural affinity for functioning on several levels at one time, and the only person who always called him out on it was his little sister—and isn’t that too fucking humbling for words.
“I didn’t zone out. Just because I don’t agree with you doesn’t mean I’m not listening. Hell, I’m damned impressed Trac and Juan seem to have made some progress in improving your language. Your mouth has been writing checks your ass couldn’t cash for a long time, sweet cheeks.” It was a dirty trick, and Cooper had to admit, he felt a twinge of regret when he saw embarrassment flash in her eye, followed by a moment’s annoyance—or was that pain? He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings, but he did want to set her back a bit. She wasn’t taking her safety as seriously as she needed to, and he wasn’t at all pleased with her nonchalant attitude.
Lakyn had always underestimated the risks his job posed to her, and that was partly his fault. He’d never leveled with her about the kind of work he’d been doing for the past several years. She might not have known the specifics of missions when he was a SEAL, but there was enough information available, she hadn’t been completely clueless either. Cooper had expected Lakyn to gather her anger around her like a cloak and fire back at him—what he hadn’t expected was the petite blonde he’d seen walk by the open doorway to back up. She stood staring at him, her hands on her hips, her lips firmed into a line, fire blazing from her eyes.
“You’re in for it now.” Kent’s low chuckle came from his left, but a quick glance at Kyle let Cooper know he evidently hadn’t seen the tiny avenging angel. Her gaze moved from him to his sister, then back to him, and Cooper would have sworn she grew two inches taller as she took in Lakyn’s expression. She zeroed in on him and stalked forward.
“Who are you? What makes you think you can speak to one our guests like that? Didn’t your mama teach you it’s rude to embarrass people in front of their friends? I don’t think I like you very much.”
Cooper fought his grin at the small fireball’s understatement. She must have seen the amusement in his eyes because she tapped the toe of her stilettos and glared.
“Boy, oh boy, guys like you frost my cookies. From the looks of you, I’m not the only one who thinks you’re an ill-mannered ass.”
“Kitten, you know you are not supposed to interrupt meetings.” Kyle’s words were probably intended to sound menacing, but the laughter in his voice had ruined the effect.
“If it’s not a public forum, you should close the door. I was just walking down the hall, minding my own business when this butt-muffin started blowing mean words at Lakyn.” Her face paled and she clasped her hand over her heart so dramatically, Cooper dropped his arms and started to step forward, but Kent’s hand on his shoulder stilled him.
“Oh, fudge nuggets, I sound like one of those Stepford mommies in the kids’ library group. Damn it all to dangling doo-dads, look what you made me do. This is all your fault.” She pointed a long scarlet red fingernail at him before shaking her head. Turning on her heel, the diminutive blonde tornado pulled Lakyn to her feet giving her a fierce hug.
“You come out to the kitchen when you’re done, okay? And don’t you dare take any trash from that guy. You stick with Juan and Trac, they won’t treat you ugly like that yo-yo.” Without looking back at him, she walked out of the room with her head held high. She pulled the door closed behind her, and the quiet snick of the latch was followed by an uproar of laughter from the men in the room.
Kent looked at him, shaking his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“As I’m sure you have already figured out, Cooper, that was our wife and our submissive, though she seems incapable of mastering the finer points of submission.” Kyle’s voice held more amusement than annoyance. Cooper looked around the room to see several of the men battling to contain their laughter and suspected what he’d just experienced was a small initiation of sorts. His reaction would determine how the Wests and every member of their team viewed him.
“Well, she’s right.” Turning to Lakyn, he smiled at the only person in the world who truly meant anything to him. She’d taught him the meaning of unconditional love the moment he held her in his arms as a child. Even at ten years old, he’d known there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.
“Lakyn, I apologize. You hold my heart in your hand, and I’m grateful you have a friend who was willing to confront a stranger—at the risk of making her husbands angry—to defend you. Hold on tight to that friendship, sweet cheeks because I can tell you from experience, that kind of loyalty is damned hard to come by.”
He’d deliberately repeated the nickname he’d given her when she first started modeling in hopes he could begin erasing the damage he’d done by using it in a diss a few minutes earlier. If he was going to build the new life he’d dreamed of—one where he felt connected to the people he worked and played with—he needed to maneuver his way out of the quagmire he’d created.
Hell, no
t so long ago, he’d growled at Cat Adler for the same damned thing.
Yes, indeed your life is officially a shit show when you’re comparing yourself to the one woman who drives you fucking insane.
Chapter Twenty
Lakyn wanted to snatch Trac bald. Had there ever been a human more annoying? He was taking the bodyguard thing to a whole new level of ridiculous. Knowing Cooper approved was proof enough the whole thing was out of control. Hell, she’d barely been able to go to the bathroom alone. Juan was staying busy, acting as her manager, so he hadn’t been available to act as a mediator, something he’d easily managed until they’d returned to New York.
Walking down the street to the studio where the re-shoot was scheduled, Lakyn noticed there were several dark sedans with tinted windows parked along the street. The morning sun was bright despite the shadows from the skyscrapers, and she was grateful for the added anonymity of her dark glasses and wide-brimmed hat. She wasn’t sure if they were friends of the men flanking her or not, and before she could ask, Lakyn saw Trac tap the earpiece he was wearing.
“All clear?” He’d spoken so softly, she had barely heard him, but evidently whoever was on the other end had because he seemed to relax, at least marginally, as they entered the building. She hadn’t been to this particular studio before, so she took her time walking through the large lobby, enjoying the architectural details and craftsmanship of a bygone era.
The small cream and black octagon tiles had been laid in an intricate sunburst pattern that wouldn’t be nearly as impressive with today’s technology. Knowing the craftsmen who built this building designed and built it without that advantage was remarkable. The bronze angel faces featured along crown molding made her wonder what the building’s original purpose had been. As if he’d read her mind, Juan looked down at her and smiled as they entered the elevator.
“It’s remarkable, isn’t it? I’ve always enjoyed period architecture, the meanings behind various elements because they are often so different from what they seem. The various pediments, dentil ornamentations, finials, and medallions—so many of them are deeply entrenched in history.”
Lakyn was astonished to find out he had such a keen interest in the beauty surrounding them. Most people walked into and by amazing buildings every day without giving them a second glance. Lakyn often found herself walking into things because she was always looking up, fascinated with the intricate details most people ignored.
Trac hadn’t said anything, but she’d seen his lips twitch while Juan had been speaking. She started forward when the doors of the elevator slid open, but Juan wrapped his hand around her upper arm holding her back as Trac stepped into the dimly lit hall. The lobby had been filled with light, so it seemed odd this floor was so poorly illuminated.
“Don’t move. The building was cleared, but something isn’t right.”
“I don’t hear anything. Usually, I can hear the chatter of my agency’s make-up and hair team. Did they confirm with you?” When he nodded, she frowned. “Then they must be here.” The next thing she heard was Trac shouting from the distance for them to go before the hallway exploded in a ball of fire.
*
Trac noticed the trip wire the minute he stepped off the elevator. He’d easily stepped over it and the next two but hadn’t seen the security camera above him pivot until he was already pushing open the heavy metal door to the stairwell.
Shouting over his shoulder at Juan to get Lakyn out, he jumped down the first set of steps, easily landing on his feet, but the explosion above him blew the door to the hall onto the stairs. The damned door was well made and slid quickly down the stairs knocking his feet out from under him. When his ass hit the horizontal surface of the door, it was enough weight shift to send him sledding down the next set of stairs, slamming him into the concrete wall.
Fucking hell, his ears were ringing like a son of a bitch from the explosion, and now his vision blurred from the blow he’d taken when his head collided with the wall. Staggering to his feet, he could hear a door several floors down slam open. The muffled sound of boots running up the stairs was the last thing he remembered before darkness closed in around him.
*
Cooper Hicks was watching the monitor in a nearby van when he saw a glint of light along a narrow wire picked up by Trac Hughes body cam. He knew instantly what the other man was facing and was already sprinting across the street when he heard Hughes shout, “Go. Go. Go” to Juan and Lakyn. Kent’s voice came over his earpiece, telling the team Lakyn and Juan were still descending, so he hit the door to the stairwell at a full run, slamming the door against the wall and taking the stairs two and three at a time.
His heart skipped a beat when he found Hughes slumped to the floor, but a quick check of his pulse showed he was alive. The damned man was huge, carrying his dead-weight down three floors was going to be a bitch, but Cooper wasn’t going to take a chance waiting for the fire department to arrive. Calling for back-up, he lifted one of the men his sister was so damned fond of over his shoulder and started down the stairs. Christ, his broken ribs were already throbbing, and he’d only managed to go down two flights of stairs.
Leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath, Cooper heard Hughes shout, “Put me down, asshole, before you puncture a fucking lung.” He would have laughed out loud as he set the man on his feet if it wouldn’t have hurt so much.
“Wait here, help is on the way.” He took in Trac’s appearance and wondered how he’d gotten the big goose egg on his forehead. “Where are you hurt?”
“What?”
Cooper tried not to smile at Trac’s shout. Okay, safe to say his hearing took a hit. Cooper had been close to enough explosions to know how annoying the ringing was and how damned long it lasted. Hopefully, Trac’s concussion wasn’t so severe, they couldn’t give him something to knock his ass out because the only thing Cooper had ever found to help him escape the annoying sound was sleep.
Kent ran up beside them and gave him a questioning look. “Is there some reason you two are standing in the stairwell of a burning building, shooting the shit?”
“What?”
This time Cooper did laugh, then held his ribs and groaned.
“Christ, you two are a fucking pair.” Kent shook his head and chuckled. “Hell, my brother is going to blame me for this. God damn it all to hell. He’s going to swear it’s my fault the two of you are hurt, you know? And, he’s a real pain in the ass when he has something to lord over me. Fuck. Come on, let’s go before we get run over by the guys from NYFD.”
They stepped out onto the sidewalk, just as the first fire trucks slid to a stop out on the street in front of the building. He could see Juan and Lakyn standing halfway down the long block near an ambulance and hoped Juan managed to get her out of the building unscathed.
Juan’s muscular arm was wrapped around her waist, and it looked as if he had Lakyn picked up off the ground—no doubt trying to keep her from rushing back toward danger. He knew she was worried about her brother and probably him as well, but he wanted her to stay where she was. He shook his head when he saw her arms flail and her mouth running a mile a minute. Chuckling to himself, he bet Lakyn had just blown all the progress she’d made cleaning up her language.
“Can either of you hear what our woman is shouting down there? Damn, it looks like she’s racking up punishment points right and left.”
Kent coughed to cover his laughter at the looks they were getting as they helped the shouting, battered, and bruised man down the street. Thank God it was New York, and the passersby giving them curious looks wouldn’t give any of them a second thought once they’d moved on.
Just another day in the jungle.
*
Juan had been pacing the considerable length of the hospital’s waiting room for over an hour, waiting for news about Lakyn and Trac. Christ, he’d even counted the number of square tiles, he’d been so desperate for a distraction.
Lakyn had been fine when they’d run from
the building, but one look at Trac’s bruised and bloodied face as Kent and Cooper helped him out of the burning building, and she’d fallen over a curb, spraining her ankle so badly, they’d had to x-ray it to be sure it wasn’t broken, and she’d gotten a nasty cut on her palm he was sure needed stitches.
Trac was suffering from a significant concussion and would likely be held at least overnight if the nursing staff didn’t kill him. His hearing had already started to improve by the time he was wheeled through the double doors by two waiting orderlies. Thank God he’d stopped shouting at everyone—a little of that had gone a long way.
Juan had never been in a hospital yet that operated in a timely fashion, but that wasn’t helping his patience. Damn, if he didn’t hear something about Lakyn soon, he was going to take the place apart looking for her, and that wasn’t going to end well for anyone. Turning his attention to Cooper, he listened as he and Kent reviewed what little information they’d been given by local law enforcement. No one understood why the team had cleared the lobby and floor where Lakyn was scheduled to meet the photographer and several members of her staff but minutes later walked into a trap.
Kent pulled his phone from his pocket when it beeped. “What have you got?” Juan was familiar and comfortable with Kent’s terse communication style—once a SEAL, always a SEAL. “Remotely or on-site?” There was a pause before he abruptly disconnected the call. Juan saw anger flashing in Kent’s dark eyes when he turned his attention to those gathered around him. Several other team members had joined them when they heard him answer his phone.
“Somebody accessed the elevator’s control panel, sending Lakyn two floors above the one we cleared.” Kent’s anger was practically vibrating around him.
“Of course, they knew we would clear the floors above and below the one where she was supposed to meet the photographer.” Sam McCall was standing nearby and sounded as frustrated as Juan felt.
