by Aubrey Irons
The actual sequence of events are blurry, but I can remember the sound of peppering bullets plunking like hail on the other side of the building I’m crouched behind. There are people everywhere - and I don’t mean soldiers or guerrillas either, I mean fuckin PEOPLE. There are civilians and fucking children running right through the firefight and all I can think is how Goddamn UNFAIR of a world it is because of that. How in any rational, sane universe, no kid should have to cover his fucking head and run between two ideologies hurling metal at each other that he doesn’t give a fuck about.
Guys who’s names I knew but have now forgotten are getting shot - they’re dying around me, and through it all, the guys from Duran Duran just keep on playing from the open door of the shot-up Hummer behind me.
“Mark target!” Our ranking Sergeant is screaming at me, his face tight as he pops around the corner to squeeze off a few shots. “Drone strike inbound, Irish! I need a target, NOW.”
I glance over the wall, wincing at the spray of rock that scatters across my face as I eyeball the enemy position. There’s a three story building at the end of the road with Taliban on the roof with mortars and two gun placements.
“Sir!” I yell, ducking back behind the wall. “Tall building, end of the street. Tallest one in town!”
He’s radioing it in, but there’s something lingering from my quick look at the building that’s nagging at me, and I chance one more peep over the wall.
Oh, fuck.
It’s hits me like a slug to the gut. The tallest building in town, with the empty flag pole, and the Taliban on the roof….
…And the playground right outside the front door.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Call it off!” I’m running, heedless of the metal flying past my head and exploding across the ground by my feet as I sprint towards the Sargent across the road on the radio. “It’s a school! It’s a fucking school!” I’m waving my arms at him, screaming. He must suddenly hear me, because he squints and looks up as he puts his radio down. Just in time for the bullet to catch him right through the ear and drop him like bag of cement on the ground.
Drones are noiseless, but missiles turning the school at the end of the street along with half the other buildings in town into pillars of fire are not.
And neither are my screams.
When it’s over, I hear true and absolute silence. Everyone in our squad besides the three of us is dead, the pieces of shit using the school as a shield are dead, and I’m pretty sure anyone left in the town is dead as well.
It’s in that very moment where I make my decision, and it’s in that same moment where I convince Bryce and Hudson to come with me. It’s then that we desert and just walk away from all of it. We’re already dead, as far as intel is concerned, and from there it’s over the border to China, and then to the Mediterranean, and then Africa and the mercenary work. And later, to William Archer.
And from that moment on, our whole lives change.
“Wait, where are we?”
I grin to myself in my seat across the cabin from Quinn, watching her lips curl into one of those sexy, intriguing and curious smiles of hers. Apparently, keeping secrets from this girl can be fun after all.
“Why do you ask?” I say as casually as possible, trying to hide my grin as she turns back to me with that questioning smile on her face.
“Uh, because I’m not looking at a map, but I’m one-hundred percent positive that’s not Seattle down there.”
I frown and shake my head as nonchalantly as possible. “It isn’t?”
“Unless Seattle has suddenly found itself a white sandy beach with palm trees?” She arches her brow at me, her eyes sparkling, and I find myself wondering if I have time to tear her clothes off before we land.
“Huh, did I say Seattle?”
She laughs. “Um, yeah, you did.”
“Huh, weird.”
“OK, I give up! Where are we, Logan?” She says, giggling as she saunters over and slips into my lap. “Mexico?”
“Nope.” I say, dropping my eyes to the swell of her breasts in her tank top and enjoying watching her blush and roll her eyes.
Just then a bell chimes as my pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom. “Mr. Dempsey? Sir, we’ll be touching down at Jose Marti International in fifteen, if you folks want to get buckled in back there.”
I can’t help but grin as her eyes go wide as she whirls to look at me with her jaw dropped. “We’re in Cuba?” She shakes her head. “How’d you get vacation entry into Cuba?” She rolls her eyes. “Oh, wait, let me guess. Money,” she says with a smirk.
“Cute, but no. We’re actually here as a medical aid relief mission.” Her eyebrows shoot up in this adorable way and I flash her a grin. “Grab your med bag, Doc. We’ve got work to do.”
The hospital in the village is something I had built after the first time I was here. Back then I was here with money. Just learning how to live with being newly rich after starting with Archer Holdings. Back then, I was drinking rum and just looking for trouble, but there was something about this village that stuck with me.
Something like the school, sitting at the end of the only street in town.
And just like that, maybe for the first time really, I started to get the Old Man’s whole thing about “giving back to the world.”
I’m helping a couple of guys from the village frame out a new wing of the care center. Pounding nails and using my hands in a way that I love instead of sitting idle or using them to hit people. But I keep catching myself just staring off at Quinn on the other side of of the Med Center compound, working with the other doctors to immunize the cluster of kids crowding around apprehensively with their sleeves rolled up. I had a pretty good hunch Quinn would jump at the chance to help out here, but damn if she doesn’t fucking shine at it. Seeing her like this is just incredible. This isn’t “hide in the research lab and let people walk all over her” Quinn. This is the bold, confident, and fearless Quinn I knew she was from the moment I met her. She’s just instantly on point, and instantly organizing and showing people what to do and where to go. The whole fucking med team from the hospital in Havana just stares at her and jumps to do what she says. Not because she’s bossy or bitchy, but because she just exudes this confidence and poise. And besides that, it’s just obvious that she loves this. She’s on the ground, getting her hands dirty and helping people like I know she wants to do.
“You’re gonna put a nail through your hand if you keep looking at the seniorita over there.” Raul, the project manager, grins at me as he nods towards Quinn. He chuckles. “Then you’ll be in some real trouble.”
I laugh as I find myself grinning back at him. “You have no fucking idea, Raul.”
Except Quinn Archer is the best kind of trouble I’ve ever been in. The kind of trouble that you can’t get enough of, the kind of trouble that keeps hooking you back in and the kind of trouble that you could just find yourself falling in lo-
Whoa.
I let my hammer drop as I look up at her again, and this time she catches my eye and winks at me as she pushed a strand of hair out of her face. I can feel my whole heart get bigger inside, my pulse jumping in my veins as I meet those eyes of hers and just let myself get sucked in.
Just what kind of “L” word am I prepared to use when it comes to Quinn?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Quinn
“So, you think I did okay today?”
We’re sitting on the balcony of the El Presidente suite of the luxury hotel back in Havana looking over the bay. Apparently, even doing humanitarian outreach comes with a little luxury when you’ve got Logan Dempsey-type money. The place is honestly a palace, occupying the entire top floor of the hotel and with full balcony terraces overlooking all of Havana Bay. Honestly, if we hadn’t spent the entire day giving immunization shots to kids at a hospital he built, I’d have put my foot down at first sight of this place.
“Yeah, Doc.” He grins at me and raises the glass of r
um on ice in his hand to me. “You did okay.”
I fake pout at him. “Just okay, huh?”
I yelp as his other hand jerks out to grab my wrist and he pulls me giggling into his lap. “Ok darlin, you did amazing work back there, but quit pretending you don’t know that.”
I’m feeling wild, free, and more alive than I have since maybe even medical school, and for once, I push all those “what-ifs” and “maybes” and “but what abouts” out of my head as I lean in and kiss him. It’s not a hot and heavy make-out type kiss either, like it seems has been our style either. It’s just that, a kiss. And in that moment, I’m know suddenly and without a doubt that I’m kissing the real Logan. This is tender, and there’s something more behind it than just lust, and with a dawning realization, I suddenly know that this is Logan sans-armor. This is this man at his most open and unguarded, and in that moment, I know that whatever this crazy feeling is that I’m feeling for him is even bigger and wilder than I thought it was.
His lips tastes like sweet rum and there’s something even more intoxicating about that than even the drink in my own hand.
“So is that a ‘Hey thanks for bringing me to Cuba, Logan, and letting me get my hands dirty doing what I love to do’ kiss?” He’s grinning at me, and for a moment I’m terrified that the humor and cavalier attitude that he uses as his armor will come up, and I quickly kiss him again.
It’s deeper this time, moving from tender to something bolder. Something more passionate. I’m kissing him with everything I have, because I need him to stay right here with me in this moment. I need to be in his arms. The real Logan.
“Mmm, now that was a thank-you kiss.” He murmurs into my mouth, his tongue darting out to run against my lips.
“Shh, hang on.” I whisper back, kissing him again.
“What?”
“Just- “ I hesitate, pulling back to look deeply into his green-gold eyes with my wide-eyed blues. “Just keep those walls down. I just want you, as is, without the armor.” His eyes flash at me, and yet he holds my gaze. “Just stay here, right here with me.” I whisper.
“Darlin,” he says thickly, leaning into me as his lips brush mine. “There’s nowhere else in the whole world I’d rather be than right here, right now, with you.”
I kiss him again before pulling back once more. “You know what I mean though, right?” This is the moment of truth. This is the moment where he either lets me in or those walls come up again, and if it’s the latter, I’m not sure I’ll ever get in. The thought has me suddenly terrified of him even answering.
He takes my chin in his hand and kisses me deep and slowly, like something out of a Hollywood movie; “This is just me, Quinn.” He says deeply and quietly. “No more walls, no more games. You have all of me.” And when our lips meet again, I know without a doubt he’s right.
“So, Logan Dempsey,” I pull back from the kiss and peer at him mischievously. “Is that a family name?”
He chuckles. “Anyone ever tell you that subtlety isn’t really your bag, Quinn?”
I giggle into his neck as he pulls me against his chest and tickles me. “Oh comon! You’re always so guarded. Cut a girl some slack when she sees a little chink in that armor of yours and wants to get to know the guy she’s running around with a little bit more!”
His eyes flash for just a second as he looks into mine. “Quinn, it’s-”
“Complicated. Right, yeah I think we’ve covered that.” I say, rolling my eyes at him before cupping his chin and pecking him on the lips. “I mean it’s not like I don’t already have you totally figured out anyways. I did date a Psychiatry student in med school, you know.”
“Sounds immensely unfulfilling.” Logan’s body tenses and bristles under me at the mention of the ex-boyfriend in this possessively reactive way that I have to admit is kind of hot.
I grin at him again, seeing the flash in his eyes again. “It’s not like you have to tell me everything, I just want to know where a guy like you comes fro-”
“Texas.”
I blink, actually shocked that I didn’t hit another deflection or another wall of humor or sarcasm. “Oh.”
He laughs at the look on my face. “What were you expecting, Mars?” He chuckles. “And Logan was my dog’s name.”
“Your parents named you after the dog?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
Logan shakes his head. “Nah, I took Logan later, because I loved that dog. My mom named me after the guy that got her pregnant, even though he took off faster than she could say ‘I’m late.’”
“You mean your Dad?”
His jaw tightens. “Wherever that prick is, he’s not my father.”
I nod, biting my lip and just taking this all in. There’s something that’s just so intimate about sitting here with him letting him tell me these things, and it’s not because I’m basically straddling his lap, or that his hand is stroking the skin of my back under my shirt. It’s that this is finally an open, unguarded, and armor-less Logan that I’m seeing for the very first time.
“What about your Mom?”
“Dead.” He says without emotion. His eyes quickly lock with mine as he feels me tense at the coarseness in his words. “OK, I don’t actually know. Probably dead. And that only sounds harsh if you don’t know her. My mom was a crazy, manipulative, parasitic drunk who liked violent, angry men. And she blamed me for that asshole running off on her.”
His face clouds darkly, and I find myself snuggling against him even more, as if the contact of our bodies can erase and heal whatever pain he’s obviously still feeling. He looks out over the bay, his eyes searching deep. “That where I first learned to put my fist up, actually.”
I look at him in shock. “Your mother?”
“Nah,” he grins at me. “The assholes she liked to bring home until they got bored of her. There was this one guy, Rich, who liked two things. Drinking, and hitting kids half his size.”
“Jesus Christ, Logan…” I trail off, shaking my head and not even knowing how to respond except with sympathy.
“I had to find her a few years ago for-” He trails off and shakes his head. “I just had to go home for this thing. She hadn’t seen or talked to me since before I enlisted, and the only thing she said to me after asking for money was to stop wasting her long distance points while her soap was on.”
I bite my lip as I feel my heart break a little inside for this man who’s somehow ended up the man he is today despite what sounds like a complete lack of love growing up in the world. I mean, I understand loss, with my mother dying when we were little and my dad always being off traveling the world for business even before he passed. But I know there’s nothing there that compares to what it must have been like to grow up as Logan. I might not have had my parents physically around, but I knew I had their love.
He sips on his rum and then darts his eyes back down to mine, where the hard look softens as he shrugs and grins at me. “Actually this might sound weird given the nature of our relationship, but your father was the only real parent I ever knew.”
I smile. “Not weird. My dad had that effect on people.”
“He saved us, you know.”
“From?”
Logan leans up and kisses me softly. “From nothing you ever need to worry about it.” I start to pull away in protest, not wanting him to close me out again, but he holds me still as he kisses me. “What he saved us from is the worst parts of ourselves, darlin. He saved me from a part of myself I don’t need to go back to, not ever.”
I nod slowly, understanding as he holds my gaze. “You’re not shutting me out?”
He laughs. “Just so you know, Doc, not even Bryce and Hudson know about my Dad.”
“Wait, seriously?” The full weight of just how open Logan’s just been with me almost takes my breath away.
He shrugs. “I guess I’m not big on sharing the past, even with people I like.”
“I guess this mean you either really like me or can’t stand me, huh?” I stick m
y tongue out at him, grinning as he laughs and wraps his strong arms around me.
“Darlin, I’d say that means I really, really like you.”
He presses his lips hotly and forcefully against my own, searing me with the heat there as he pulls me tight against his body. I moan into his kiss, and I can feel him surge beneath me, the kiss quickly turning more and more passionate and fiery. Our mouths open as our tongues tease together, and his hands slide over my body as I moan into his kiss. He’s teasing over my breasts and making my nipples harden under my tank-top as his tongue slides against mine. His hands slide lower to my legs curled in his lap and then over my knees and thighs, moving higher. I’m already soaking wet for him as his fingers push my panties to the side and slide easily through my folds. I’m moaning into his mouth and rocking into him as my hands fumble for the button of his jeans, desperate to feel him.
I slip my panties quickly down my legs and pull my sundress over my head as he shoves his jeans down his muscled thighs and yanks his shirt off. I’m kissing him passionately, tasting his tongue with mine as I straddle him and feel his cock so hard and ready, pulsing against my thigh. He stiffens as I wrap my hand around him and bring him against my wetness. “I’ve got one,” he growls, sucking at my bottom lip with his teeth. “Back in my bag, in the room-”
But I’m pulling back and shaking my head slowly, stopping his words. “Leave it.” I whisper, feeling a pulsing heat shoot through my body while his eyes smolder with lust as he understand what I’m saying.
“Quinn, I-”
“I’m clean,” I say maybe more hastily than I should have.
