Call to Engage

by Tawny Weber

  “Hey, Nic, can we hike? Are we sleeping inside or camping out? I could sleep in a tent if you guys were with me, right? That’d be safe, wouldn’t it?”

  She smiled as Nathan, already bouncing around the room with all the pent-up excitement of a kid after four hours in a car, peered out the wall of windows. Tousled hair stuck out every which way from under his ball cap and that gap-toothed smile of his flashed as he asked questions faster than anybody could answer.

  Protecting that sweet boy was the reason they were there, she reminded herself. And protect him she would.

  She knew she wouldn’t be called on to put her martial arts skills to use. But for the first time, she understood what it meant to be willing to. To be ready to defend, to put herself and everything she could muster on the line to protect someone who wasn’t her own.

  She watched Nathan circle Nic, then Elijah, peppering them with more questions—were there fish in the lake, could they swim, was it cold, who was cooking, were there hot dogs—as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  He did, she knew.

  Back in Napa she’d watched from the other room as Harper, along with Diego and Nic, had explained why he was separating from his mother for a few days. Had outlined the dangers on a child-safe level.

  She remembered the look on Harper’s face when she’d described to Ava how her ex had abandoned her and their unborn baby, how his actions had resulted in poor Nathan’s kidnapping. His rescue by Diego, Jared and Elijah. Ava’s heart sighed as she recalled the expression on Harper’s face when she’d explained how Elijah’s regular visits and calls had done more to help Nathan’s recovery than therapy.

  There was no sign of concern, but this little boy was depending on them—all of them, including her—to keep him safe.

  Failure, the one that haunted her, didn’t matter.

  Couldn’t matter.

  “Everyone pick a room,” Nic suggested, gesturing toward the open staircase leading to the third floor. “Settle in—then report in ten.”

  The men held back, waiting for her to reach the stairs.

  “I get first pick?” she realized, tickled at their automatic chivalry.

  “Ladies are always first,” Nathan told her earnestly. “That’s what Diego says. He says a man, a real man, has manners and treats a lady like a queen. Cuz queens are the rulers—did you know that? Like my mom, she rules the house, even when Diego is there.”

  Rengel snickered. “Gonna have to ride Kitty Cat about that one,” he muttered with a grin.

  “Your Majesty,” Elijah said, his grin just as wide as his friends’ as he gestured Ava up the stairs. He followed, waiting until they were out of hearing of the others before sliding his hand along the small of her back. “You looking for a roommate?”

  “Only if you’re offering.” She angled him a sideways smile.

  “For you, I’m always offering.”

  “Then how about this one,” she declared, settling on a corner room with a glorious view of the lake and, more important, a huge brocade-covered bed. “We can sleep with the windows open, breathe the pine-scented air and listen to the water below.”

  “Sounds romantic.” Taking his cue from that idea, Elijah stepped behind her, close enough that she felt the heat of his body before he wrapped his arms around her waist. Ava nestled back, her butt wiggling against his groin in a teasing invitation.

  The hand on her waist slid under her tee, warm and soothing as he gently rubbed her belly. He cupped her breast with the other, gently squeezing, testing the weight and squeezing again.

  Excitement curled hot and needy in her belly as Ava’s own fingers curled into her palms, as she forced her hands to stay at her sides instead of grabbing him. There was something erotic about keeping still while being pleasured.

  “We only have ten minutes,” she reminded him breathlessly.

  “Bet I can make you come in five,” he whispered before setting out to do just that.

  * * *

  “SO WHAT DO you think? A traditional diamond? Bryanna’s pretty exotic, maybe she’d rather have a ruby for an engagement ring,” Ward mused, frowning at his tablet as he scrolled through the jewelry website pages. “You’re the artist, Rembrandt. What do you think suits her?”

  Chief Petty Officer Aaron Ward had been hit by love and hit hard. A once dedicated bachelor with no room in his life to commit to more than his team, he’d met Bryanna Radisson a few months back, and that had been it for the big guy. Now he was putting all that dedication toward driving everyone nuts with his talk about his lady, their future and requests for advice.

  “Why don’t you ask her instead of me, Bulldog? Better yet, ask Ava. She’s a woman. She’d know better than I would what her kind likes,” Elijah suggested, too busy swabbing down the kitchen to look at sparkly things.

  “Really?” Aaron glanced over in surprise. “You want me bringing up engagement rings to the woman you’re seeing? Usually that sort of thing is off-limits. It might put ideas in her head, you know.”

  “Ideas?” Done with the counters, Elijah tossed the sponge in the sink, then leaned back against it with his arms crossed over his chest. “Like what? Marriage ideas?”

  “You never know.”

  As if. He could barely get her to talk about next week, when he returned to active duty. As far as he could tell, getting engaged, getting remarried, they weren’t on Ava’s radar. But he wasn’t about to share that little piece of information.

  “Dude, you were at my wedding,” Elijah reminded him with a baffled laugh. “You know damned well the marriage idea is always there, spinning around like a category-five hurricane just waiting to land. Even if it wasn’t, I’m pretty sure marriage ideas float through any and every woman’s mind at least once if they’re with a guy and the sex is good.”

  His fingers tapping on his tablet, Aaron nodded, then waited a beat. “Maybe she’s not thinking about it with you because the sex isn’t any good,” he deadpanned.

  Laughing, Elijah dived at him. He’d gotten only a couple of punches in—damned if the Bulldog wasn’t aptly named, the guy was as sturdy as a brick wall—when Nic called time-out.

  “Gentlemen, let’s act like we’re still Poseidon and show some dignity,” Nic suggested, his face impassive.

  The men shifted, their smiles fading as they took their seats. They came to attention as Savino shifted into command mode. He outlined their duties, sketched out the timeline.

  “Ward, you and Prescott will continue to monitor electronics. Watch changes at thirteen hundred hours, when Prescott will take Rengel’s place on kid watch and Ward, you can take a break while Rengel and I take electronics. Use that time to shop for wedding rings if you have to.”

  Elijah’s lips twitched at Savino’s easy sarcasm, but he managed to keep the smirk off his face. No point inviting that sarcasm to aim in his direction.

  “Perimeter checks every hour,” Savino continued, issuing orders to each man that’d take them through to the following morning. When he finished, he paused to ask, “Any questions?”

  Nada.

  Obviously the reaction he’d expected. He nodded and, his signal that they were shifting into work mode, took a seat.

  “Rengel has been apprised of the situation, so now I’ll bring the two of you up to date,” he said, leaning back in the chair. “Operation Fuck Up is about to go critical. As you both know, thanks to Rembrandt, here, we were able to access Ramsey’s Swiss account and shut it down.”

  Nic’s smile was as sharp as a blade as he added, “Apparently this pissed him off.”

  “He reacted?” Elijah straightened, his body hitting full alert. “You’re sure it’s him this time? Not another fan boy like Adams?”

  “According to the intel we’ve been able to pull, nobody else had access to that account except him. Grant
ed, our intel isn’t as tight as I’d like, but I believe it’s solid.”

  It would be tighter if he’d bring Lansky in, let the man work his computer magic. Nobody knew electronics like Lansky. For the first time in the history of their service, Elijah wanted to argue with his commander. He knew what it was like to feel mistrusted. He didn’t want any part of sliding a side-eye at one of their own.

  But instead of pointing that out, he waited.

  Savino finished his briefing, they all wrapped up the discussion. And Elijah still waited. Ward shifted the conversation to honeymoon venues, Nic and Elijah exchanged eye rolls. He kept on waiting.

  Until it was just the two of them, him and Nic, in the bright, modern kitchen.

  “What’s up?” Nic asked, heading to the fridge. He pulled out a soda, held it up. At Elijah’s nod, he tossed it to him before grabbing another.

  “You’re crippling us,” Elijah said baldly, rolling the icy can between his palms. “Without Lansky, we’re operating at half-mast.”

  “Perhaps. But if Lansky’s the mole, without him we’re right and tight.”

  “Do you honestly think he’s dirty?”

  When Savino hesitated, Elijah threw the commander’s oft-used words back at him. “What does your gut say?”

  Savino dropped back into his chair with a sigh.

  “My gut says that we could use him. That he’s one of us and he’d never screw his brothers.” He popped the tab and took a long drink, then shrugged. “But my orders on this mission are specific, as is the allotted crew.”

  Elijah’s fingers tapped the can, but he didn’t pop the top. His gaze shifted to the sight just outside their window. Ava was following instructions, keeping Nathan in view.

  Orders or not, he trusted Lansky with his life. He’d even trust him over his career. But Nathan’s safety? Ava’s? Those were too precious to risk. He opened his can, lifted it in a toast and nodded. “To orders.”

  The cans clicked with a dull thud.

  “It’s what we do, my friend. We’re indoctrinated to push harder, to excel, to win at all costs. But under it all, we follow orders. The chain of command might choke from time to time, but it serves a purpose. And that purpose is higher than our personal preferences. At least, it is if we serve.”

  Nic was right.

  Elijah almost smirked at that, since he didn’t think there’d ever been a time that Nic hadn’t been right. That was why they followed him. That was why he led with such skill.

  If they didn’t follow orders, they were no better than the treasonous asshole they were trying to capture. He’d bet Ramsey had all sorts of gut feelings to justify his choices.

  A man couldn’t serve with that kind of thinking. And they were here to serve. To follow orders, in this case, keeping a little boy safe.

  That’s what it was all about.

  Keeping people safe.

  Elijah’s gaze shifted to the window again.

  To Ava laughing as she taught Nathan some basic kicks and punches. She was doing a great job of keeping the kid entertained, making sure he felt safe while distracting him from worrying about a man who wouldn’t so much as blink before destroying them. Any of them, including the boy.

  “It’s not easy putting duty over emotions, is it?” Nic asked quietly. “I suppose that’s why so many of us go it alone. You were the bravest of us, marrying Ava. You believed that you could do both. That takes guts.”

  “Faith is more like it.”

  “Faith, then. And serious guts.”

  “I might be the first, but I won’t be the last,” he pointed out. “What will happen to Poseidon if one by one we start retiring?”

  “Nothing lasts forever, my friend,” Nic surmised as he got to his feet. He clapped a hand on Elijah’s shoulder before heading out of the room. Before going through the door, he added, “The trick is knowing if you’re leaving at the right time, for the right reason. If not, that leaving is going to be hell to live with.”

  * * *

  “WOW, AVA. You make really good omelets. Can I have another one? A whole one? With more of that dip stuff on top?”

  “Me, too, Ava.” Paul Rengel grinned, his dark eyes dancing as he held up his plate, just as licked clean as Nathan’s. “The dip stuff was really good.”

  Laughing, feeling lighter than she had in years, Ava moved to the counter to check the bowl of guacamole she’d made as garnish.

  “Two more Spanish omelets coming up,” she said, and got to work on breakfast seconds. Since Elijah had already had his before he’d gone outside to walk the perimeter, she didn’t worry about running out.

  “It’s nice of you to cook for us,” Nic said, topping off her coffee before taking the pot to the table. “We’re used to Chug’s cooking, which leaves a lot to be desired.”

  “Hey,” Paul objected with a laugh. “Not saying you’re wrong, but hey anyway.”

  “Why do they call you Chug?” Nathan wondered, planting his elbows on the table and leaning forward with that gap-toothed grin of his. “Are you like a choo-choo train? You know, chug-a-chug, chug-a-chug?”

  “I ram through the enemy like a freight train, sure. But my call sign comes from, um, well...” His face a study of discomfort, Paul shot a pleading look around the table. Obviously bragging about his drinking prowess to a seven-year-old wasn’t cool, but he didn’t quite know what to say.

  Ava grinned as she cooked, waiting to see how they handled it.

  “It’s the sound he makes when he drinks,” Nic said, coming to his rescue.

  “What’s a call sign?”

  “A nickname.”

  “What’s yours?”

  “Kahuna,” Nic said, sounding a little less amused now.

  “That’d be the Big Kahuna,” Aaron corrected. “Because he’s the boss. I’m Bulldog. Not because I look like one, not with this pretty face. But because I’m stubborn.”

  “What’s Diego called?”

  “Kitty Cat.”

  “El Gato,” Nic corrected, ruffling the boy’s hair. “It’s cat in Spanish. We call him that because he moves with stealth like a cat, and his mom and dad were from Mexico.”

  “That’s really cool. And Elijah is called Rembrandt, right? Cuz he’s an artist? He does great drawings. He made one of the Quinjet, with me and Captain America standing in front of it. It’s supercool. Mom put it in a frame for me cuz she said it’s special.”

  Ava’s smile dimmed a little as Nathan continued. She hadn’t realized how close Nathan and Elijah were. He was so good with the boy. Just as he’d been good with—

  “You okay?” Nic asked.

  Surprised, not sure when he’d joined her at the stove, Ava glanced over.

  “Sure. I’m great.”

  “We really do appreciate the meal. Your cooking is definitely above and beyond.”

  “It’s nice to see my early training coming back so quickly,” she said, adding eggs to the sautéing vegetables and giving the pan a shake. “I’m all for healthy eating, but I’ve got to tell you, it’s just not the same making egg-white omelets with spinach puree.”

  “Eww,” Nathan said with a child’s refreshing honesty. Trying to shake off the gloom chasing her, Ava laughed.

  “I don’t burn nearly as many calories as these guys do, so I have to be a little more careful with my calories,” she explained as she plated the omelets, one of them boy-size.

  “You ever want to move south, we’d line up for training and meals. This grub is way better than sub-grub or anything we’d get in the chow hall.”

  Move south? Remain connected to Poseidon? In other words, stay with Elijah. Ava didn’t know how to respond to that. Not when her heart and her head were screaming one thing, while the little voice—the one steeped in fear—warned another.

&nbs
p; “I’m sure you’ve got some awesome cooks in your area,” she demurred. “And I doubt any training I could devise would be on par with yours.”

  To Ava’s relief, the conversation turned to Mack’s gym and her work there, to the type of workouts the guys liked best and, of course, Aaron’s ode to his new lady love, a pretty brunette named Bryanna that he planned to marry. The way the men bandied about proposal ideas told Ava that they were completely on board with the idea of yet another of their own tying the knot.

  She wasn’t sure how to take that. She’d never realized these men were so pro-relationship. Not that she’d heard tell of anyone protesting hers when she and Elijah were married, but her mother had warned her time and time again that his friends would split them up. It seemed to her as if they were more focused on keeping them together.

  Glad to leave cleanup to the crew, she took her coffee and thoughts out to the wraparound back porch. Glossy wood railings did nothing to obstruct the gorgeous view of the lake through the trees. It was like sitting in an enchanted forest, she decided, leaning back in the cushioned rocking chair.

  Gorgeous, peaceful and just a little magical.

  She wasn’t sure how it’d happened.

  She couldn’t pinpoint the moment, wasn’t even sure if there was a single one or it’d simply been a series of moments all piled together.

  But sitting on the wide back porch overlooking the sun rising in a gentle glow over the lake, coffee steaming from the mug in her hand and the sound of a child’s laughter in the air, she couldn’t deny it.

  She was happy.

  Snuggling a little deeper into Elijah’s flannel shirt, she stretched her feet out in front of her and contemplated the thick wool socks keeping her toes warm in the early morning air.

  Happy.

  She was happy being here, in Tahoe, in a gorgeous house with a stunning view.

  She was happy spending time with Elijah’s friends again—his true family, and seeing the teamwork, the shorthand conversations and the bone-deep respect between the men.

  She was happy falling asleep in Elijah’s arms, sated from the heat of their lovemaking. Waking with his body covering hers with warmth and passion. Talking with him about the little things, even as her mind grappled to accept the big ones.