Brotherhood Protectors: Exposed (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Scandalous Moves Book 4)
Page 1
Text copyright ©2017 by the Author.
This work was made possible by a special license through the Kindle Worlds publishing program and has not necessarily been reviewed by Twisted Page Inc.. All characters, scenes, events, plots and related elements appearing in the original Brotherhood Protectors remain the exclusive copyrighted and/or trademarked property of Twisted Page Inc., or their affiliates or licensors.
For more information on Kindle Worlds: http://www.amazon.com/kindleworlds
EXPOSED
Scandalous Moves Series
By:
Deborah Grace Staley
Table of Contents
Dedication
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
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Deborah Grace Staley
This book is dedicated to my favorite photographer, Eli Harlan. The first time we met, we both knew we were going to be great friends. The way you see the world and care for people inspires me. Thank you for enthusiastically brainstorming with me over lunch, for girls’ nights, and always, for your love and support.
Author Note
Dear Reader:
Have you ever done something daring that forced you to step outside your comfort zone? That’s the concept behind my series, Scandalous Moves. In each of these longer novellas, you’ll see strong, driven women do something out of character that shakes things up. Typically, I’d say these women have carefully structured lives, but Soleil Fortune-Gardner does not fit that mold. Soleil is a free spirit with a nomadic lifestyle. Her world gets flipped when she has to stay in one spot for an extended period of time. Through this, she, along with the other heroines in this series, will learn that some chances are worth taking because they’ll realize a life well-lived includes change. Even though there are sometimes failures, that just makes the successes all the more sweet.
Exposed is a Scandalous Moves crossover title with Elle James’s Brotherhood Protectors Kindle World. In addition to a Scandalous Move, you’ll also get a sexy hero along with other characters who are veterans who work as bodyguards. Let the suspense and intrigue begin!
Scandalous Moves is a FLAME (Sexy) contemporary series not recommended for readers under eighteen or those who blush easily! But if you like your romance novels with sexy heroes and scorching hot sex scenes, read on! If you have a preference for more TAME (Sweet) romances, I have something for you, too. Check out my best-selling and award-winning Angel Ridge Series and my Fast Break Romance short stories (see links to purchase on the “Also By . . .” page). Whatever your preference, I strive to give readers Sweet with heat and Flame with heart, so there’s something for everyone!
Maybe you’ve made some Scandalous Moves of your own. If you dare, share your stories on my Facebook page and on Twitter using #Scandalous, and be sure to tag me @debgstaley.
For more information about the Archie Carr Wildlife Refuge, visit https://www.fws.gov/refuge/Archie_Carr/. For more information about efforts to save Florida’s manatees, visit http://www.defenders.org/florida-manatee/how-you-can-help.
Happy reading!
—Deborah Grace Staley
1
“Congratulations on your wedding, man,” Jake Stanton said to A.J. Johnson.
The three men clinked their longnecks in a toast. Jake drank and looked around the table at the friends he hadn’t seen in several years. As a Special Forces engineering sergeant warrant officer, and then senior sergeant, he’d served with A.J. Johnson, who lived in New Jersey now and ran a security systems service. Hank Patterson, a former SEAL who’d collaborated with them on joint missions, had gone back to his home in Montana and had opened up Brotherhood Protectors, a personal security firm. Both men only staffed with special operations veterans. They’d kept in touch over the years. Today, sitting in the bar of a posh Miami hotel, they had the attention of a number of patrons, particularly female.
Hank lifted his beer in Jake’s direction, “I can’t believe you finally got out.”
“It was time,” Jake said. At forty-one, he’d aged out of going on missions and had spent the last several years training, which hadn’t been as fulfilling as the hands-on work. He’d missed out on enough with his kids and was looking forward to a big shot of normal.
“Think you know how to be a civilian?” A.J. asked.
The men laughed. “Guess we’ll find out, man,” Jake said. “Twenty-three years is a long time, but I gotta say, it’s good to be back home in Florida.”
“Lucky for us, we were both in Miami to properly welcome you,” Hank said. “I’d still be out west if it wasn’t for my wife’s movie premiere.”
“Yeah, I heard you married some Hollywood starlet, Montana,” Jake said.
Hank chuckled. “Sadie was my high school sweetheart before she became a famous actress.” He set his drink on the table and leaned forward. “We were pretty psyched when A.J. and his wife, Maddie, agreed to come down from Jersey to join us.”
“Maddie’s a financial planner,” A.J. explained. “Hank suggested Sadie hire her. So, it’s a win-win. I get to hang with an old military buddy from time to time while the ladies shop and get pampered.”
“You sure you don’t want to attend the premiere tonight?” Hank said. “Sadie can get you a pass.”
“Hell, no,” Jake said. “Even if I owned a tux, I wouldn’t be eager to suit up in this South Florida heat.”
A.J. leaned in as well and said in a low voice, “True, but that means the ladies will be wearing a lot less.”
Hank clinked bottles with A.J. “Hell, yeah.”
“Easy boys. You’re both married,” Jake pointed out. “And I cannot believe I just said that. I never met two more dedicated bachelors.”
“As opposed to the mighty Jake “Silver Hawk” Stanton, who left a string of broken hearts on every post across the U.S. and most of Europe,” Hank said.
“Well, you know, I tried the marriage and kids thing, but it didn’t work out so well for me,” Jake said.
“No judgments,” A.J. said. “We’re just saying that even though we’re both happily off the market doesn’t mean someone we know and love can’t enjoy himself,” A.J. added.
“I appreciate the gesture. Maybe some other time.” He intended to leave his reputation with the ladies behind—maybe have an actual relationship if he could remember how.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Hank asked. “It’s hard to live on enlisted retirement.”
“I’m trying to recruit him into Veteran Security Services,” A.J. said. “I’ve been wanting to expand into personal protection services, and I can’t think of a better partner. Even though I’m based out of New Jersey, you could easily head up the division in Florida that could serve the East Coast to start, and then we could look to expand. Together, we could make bank by installing state-of-the-art security systems and supplying bodyguards. South Florida is teeming with celebrities who need personal security.”
“You men must not understand the meaning of retirement. You know, sleeping in, fishing, getting fat?”
“Bullshit,” A.J. laughed.
“Right. That’ll last about a day,” Hank agreed. “I never met anyone less
suited to idleness.”
“I’m gonna try to do as little as possible,” Jake said. “Besides, I got a grandkid on the way who needs to be spoiled rotten.”
“Oh, right.” A.J. put his fist over his mouth to hide the big smile on his face. “I forgot how old you are, Silver Hawk.”
“Forty-one isn’t exactly ancient. I can still take you any day, any time,” Jake said, and sipped his beer.
Hank huffed. “You can no doubt take us both. Another reason you should go into personal protection services. I’d love to have an East Coast partner for Brotherhood Protectors.”
“You trying to poach my potential employee?” A.J. asked.
“He’s a free agent until someone signs him,” Hank pointed out.
“As I said, I got plans.”
“Right,” Hank said. “To spoil your grandkids and nap in a hammock after you’ve fished all day?”
A.J. shook his head. “What a waste of skill.”
“I got a lot of time to make up with my kids,” Jake said, serious. “I wasn’t around when they were young. I want to be there for them now. As for a job . . .” He’d given it some thought, still wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. “I don’t know, I did construction before I enlisted. I might try that again. But first, I plan on getting some R&R.”
“Fair enough,” A.J. said. “What about your folks? You gonna spend some time with them?”
“They’ve retired to the mountains of Tennessee, but I’m hoping to get up there sometime later this year.”
“Just so you know, the offer of a job stands,” A.J. repeated.
“Same here,” Hank said.
The men stood and shook hands. “I never had brothers of my own,” Jake said, “but—”
“Same here.” A.J. clapped Jake on the shoulder.
“We all made it out of hell because we had each other’s backs,” Hank said. “The brotherhood doesn’t end with discharge papers.”
“Damn straight,” Jake mumbled, hugging his friends as they said goodbye. Appreciative feminine gazes followed him as he walked out of the restaurant. Outside, he put on mirrored sunglasses to guard against the sunshine. He handed his ticket to the valet and hooked a thumb in a belt loop while he waited for his truck. In Florida, the heat of September was as oppressive as August most places in the U.S. Some people who lived here hated it, fleeing north until Thanksgiving, but Jake loved feeling the moist heat on his skin. There was no sweeter sound than the ocean breeze stirring the palms. He couldn’t wait to take a swim in the ocean.
The valet pulled up in his new Ford F-250, hopped down, and said, “That’s a sweet ride man.”
Jake handed the kid a five and said, “Thanks.” As he stepped up into the cab, he punched the address for home into the GPS because getting in and out of Miami was a nightmare. Home. Jake smiled and absently traced the anchor tattoo on his finger, then put the truck in motion. With luck, he could be there before sunset.
* * *
Six hours later, Jake parked in his driveway about an hour before sunset. He grabbed his sidearm, stepped out of the truck, and secured his pistol in the holster at the small of his back as he looked around his property. He’d bought it at auction fifteen years earlier. There wasn’t a place like this to be had in Melbourne Beach, Florida—five acres between the Indian River Lagoon and the Atlantic Ocean. Isolated, with nothing around except for the Archie Carr National Wildlife Refuge.
He’d thought of it often when he’d been in the Army. He had detailed plans for what he wanted to do to the property and nothing but time. And damn, there was a lot of work to do. A service had kept the area around the low cinder block construction house mowed, but the rest was a wild tangle of a mess. Jake smiled as he grabbed his duffle. There’d likely be plenty of wildlife that had taken up residence in there, but he intended to reclaim what was his if the environmentalists didn’t hold him up.
He unlocked the front door. The place was in pretty good shape because he’d used it over the years when he’d come home for visits. He dropped his bag and continued through the house, went outside, and flipped on the breakers in the electrical box. A floodlight came on, letting him know everything was good with the electricity.
The hair on Jake’s neck stood up. Something wasn’t right, and his instincts never failed him. It was how he’d earned one-half of his nickname “Silver Hawk” during his years in the Army. The “Silver” had come with the fact that he’d gone gray prematurely in his twenties.
He turned and scanned the area, automatically reaching for his gun. He heard a hissing sound and moved forward. The noise grew louder as he moved around the side of the house, weapon up and ready. Someone was in the outdoor shower.
Jake approached, but stayed in the shadows about ten feet away. “You’re trespassing.”
A feminine squeal came from behind the wooden panels. “Don’t shoot,” she said and shut off the water.
Jake laughed. “Naked people taking showers aren’t usually dangerous, so you’re safe.” He said the words, but held onto his gun anyway.
The old, rotting panels surrounding the shower needed to be replaced. One of the many things on his list of things to do to the property. One panel hung crooked, and some boards were missing. She must be able to see him better than he could her. From where he stood, he couldn’t see anything but the vague shape of a person inside. When she stepped out and faced him, he sucked in a shocked breath.
Long, dark blonde dreadlocks reached to her waist, but it was the huge, pale blue eyes that held his interest. He noted a nose piercing, big hoop earrings, and more bracelets than he’d ever seen on one person before his eyes returned to hers.
“Hi,” she said and clutched the ends of a brightly-colored sarong she grabbed to cover her body. A weak smile came with her next words. “Would you mind, um, putting that away?”
She pointed to the gun in his hand, and he belatedly set the safety and secured it.
“Thank you,” she said, “for that . . . and for the use of your shower.” She jabbed a thumb towards the stall, her bracelets jangling musically. Tattoos of brightly-colored flowers adorned her left arm from shoulder to wrist.
He cleared his throat and found his voice. “As I said, you’re trespassing.”
She tied the sarong just above her breasts and arranged the clinging fabric so that she was covered, but with the way the material stuck to her damp body, she was far from decent. Petite and curvy, she was in a word, stunning. He guessed her age to be late twenties or early thirties. Ten years wasn’t a huge difference in age, or at least that’s what he told himself as his body reacted to hers.
“I know the owner,” she stated, matter-of-fact.
He hadn’t expected that. “Really?” He decided to go along to see where she’d take this.
“Sort of,” she qualified and took a step toward him. Her bracelets sang as she held out her hand. “I’m Soleil.”
The French for sun—it suited her. He frowned as something in the back of his mind nudged its way forward. Jake belatedly took her hand and a current of awareness traveled up his arm. “Jake,” he supplied.
She squeezed his hand and a smile transformed her face. “Oh! Jake Stanton?”
“Right.” Recognition lit her eyes, and he got even more curious.
“I didn’t recognize you, but it’s been a while.” She released his hand and crossed her arms. The material covering her breasts separated, revealing a generous cleavage.
“My sister’s an old friend of your daughter’s. They went to high school together, but I don’t think you were around much then.”
That’s why the unusual name rang a bell. It wasn’t her name he remembered, but rather her sister’s. “Luna, right?”
“Yes.” Her face lit up.
He laughed. “Your parents named you Sun and Moon?”
She laughed, too, not offended. “What can I say? They were hippies.”
Of course, he remembered his Caroline’s best friend. He didn’t see a resembla
nce, but it had been a long time since he’d seen Luna. He’d spent his career deploying at a moment’s notice, leaving sometimes for months, no contact with anyone. His family couldn’t even know where he was. The danger and his constant absence had been too much for his young wife. They’d divorced, amicably, when the kids were young. Hell, he and MaryAnn had been kids themselves—they’d had two babies by the time they were twenty. His interactions with his children had been as often as he could manage, but now that he was retired, he intended to change that.
“I don’t think I knew Luna had a sister.”
“I’ve been away,” she explained. Her sweet laugh sounded like a melody. “See, I do know the owner. Kind of.”
Jake folded his arms as well. “That doesn’t explain why you’re using my shower.”
“Oh, that. When Caroline found out I was in town visiting Luna, she asked me to photograph her wedding because the person she had lined up broke her arm. So, we made a deal. In lieu of payment, she said I could park my camper here.”
“I see.” What she said made complete sense, except for the fact that his daughter hadn’t told him about this arrangement.
Soleil nodded. “I’m also in town to do a job for the Archie Carr Wildlife Refuge, to highlight their work to save the manatees,” she added.
“They’re known for turtle conservation,” Jake pointed out. Since his property bordered the refuge, he had a voluntary agreement with the government to maintain his property in a way that didn’t hinder the refuge’s conservation efforts.
“Which is why they want their work with the manatees highlighted,” she added with a smile. “It helps for me to be close to the refuge with lagoon access since they don’t allow camping.” She smiled again and his stomach tightened with awareness. “Caroline assured me that the place was vacant.”
“It was,” he managed, “but I’m home now.” And her camping on his property might be a violation of his agreement with the refuge.
“Caroline didn’t mention that,” she pointed out. “I’m sure it was just a miscommunication?” she offered.