HIS Series Box Set (Books 4-7)

by Sheila Kell

  “Listen up. Steve lost our tail so we’ll clear the airport for you. Don’t engage unless you absolutely have to. And, don’t… dilly-dally.” Jesse must be watching his language since he had the girls with him, because Devon expected something more coarse from him in that directive.

  With one hand on the seat in front of him, he slipped his other out of Rylee’s and wound it around her shoulders and then pulled her snug up against him. Kissing the top of her head, he said, “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  A smile embedded itself and he couldn’t imagine it would ever go away.

  “We’ve got a bit of space, sit up at your own risk,” Mike advised.

  Brave, but not stupid, everyone slowly rose and peered over their shoulders to double-check Mike’s bit of space.

  After much bouncing and jerking back and forth in the van, Mike warned them that they were approaching the airport. The unbuckling of Rylee’s seatbelt—as he imagined she was the only one who wore one—and the clicking of clips being released and reinserted in rifles filled the silence. When Mike slammed on the brakes, the door was slung open and Devon grasped Rylee’s hand following AJ out. His job was to get Rylee there, not worry about anything else, so they raced to the plane and with its engines ready, amidst gunfire, but from what he could tell, it was only from their men to the vehicle that had chased them.

  Pushing her in front of him, he hustled her up the stairs, keeping himself plastered behind her in case their pursuers engaged and a bullet happened to make it their way.

  Flinging herself into a seat on board the aircraft, Rylee bent over, working to catch her breath, and Devon sat next to her and breathed a sigh of utter relief.

  His wife was safe.

  A COUPLE OF months had passed, and Devon and Rylee were enjoying married life and living together. Except for her habit of ironing his jeans and the sheets. She believed everything should be pressed and that drove him nuts.

  Knowing how close he came to losing her still had the power to bring him to his knees. With her now a part of HIS, he imagined he’d hyperventilate many times while she was out with the team. While he’d had his fun playing rescuer, behind the computer was where he was comfortable. It was where the team needed him.

  Glancing around the room once more to make sure it was ready, he approached the bed and spread out the rose petals more. Chilling was nonalcoholic cider instead of champagne. They’d both decided they didn’t care for another alcoholic drink, and he didn’t see this occasion being any different since the first time they’d been together was the catalyst in that agreement.

  He swiped the key card off the table, shoved his wallet and phone in his pockets, and exited the room. The great thing about the high-roller room was there were separate elevators for their floor and two others. Less wait time.

  On the main floor, the noise was almost overpowering, but he did his best to ignore it and sought his brother. He found him at the bar in the middle of the activity of slot machines. Before approaching, he watched Matt for a few moments. Hell, another wedding for him. Another reminder of what he’d lost.

  With a friendly slap on the shoulder, he slid onto the barstool beside his brother. He hailed the masculine bartender. “Bottle of water.”

  With a harrumph, the man turned to, hopefully, fill Devon’s order.

  “I hope you’re not going to drink that,” Matt said.

  The unhappy employee returned, twisted the top off a bottle of water and slapped it in front of Devon and turned away.

  He shrugged. “Not on your life. Has the bartender gone anywhere?”

  Bringing a beer bottle to his lips, Matt shook his head and then appeared to take a drink, but Devon knew he’d only done it for show. Scratching at the label wrapped around the neck of the plastic bottle, he approached the touchy topic he’d wanted to discuss. “I can check in on her again if you want.”

  Matt hesitated, rolling the beer bottle between his hands. “No. I said the last time would be it. I meant it.”

  Devon sighed, a wash of sadness for his brother slipping through. “You really should go see her.”

  “And do what? She left, remember? She blamed me and left.”

  It always came back to that, and if the shoe were on the other foot, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. All he knew was that Matt had loved Caitlyn enough that they’d planned to marry. He couldn’t imagine ever giving up on Rylee. So how could Matt give up on Caitlyn? “You know she didn’t mean it.”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “What about her dad? You two were close. Go visit him.” Maybe then the two would run into each other even though she’d moved away.

  Shifting in his seat, Matt cleared his throat. “I saw him when we were in Oxford. He invited me to come back. Promised she wouldn’t be there.”

  Big ass first step chancing that visit. Maybe there was hope for Matt after all. “Are you going?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a lot to deal with.” The beer bottle spun in his hands again, and liquid sloshed over the top giving away Matt’s ruse at drinking. He stilled the bottle and began to wipe up the mess. “It was my fault.”

  “Matt, you know better. You can’t guarantee you’d have been able to prevent it.”

  “At least I could’ve tried.” He stood, something akin to resignation on his face. “I thought we were here to get this asshole and then get you married. Or married again.” He nodded behind Devon who turned and saw two uniformed officers walking toward them.

  Allowing for the brisk change of topic, he smiled and stood. “That we are.”

  “Hey, buddy,” he called to the bartender. “Can you come here a minute?”

  The man looked nervously over Devon’s shoulder but approached. “What can I get ya?”

  “You can get around here so these nice officers can arrest you for drugging women.” He was sickened at what the man had done—he’d drug women and then his friend lured them away where they had parties with the unsuspecting women later. Rylee had been a mark for the two of them. After they’d married, Devon and Rylee had stopped in this bar. She’d ordered the drinks while he’d gone to the restroom. He was certain that was why she felt out of sorts when they’d returned to the room. Somehow, he believed it was also responsible for her losing the entire evening because she’d been lucid while they’d enjoyed the strip—eating, gambling, wandering the streets, falling in love, and getting married.

  He wanted to launch himself at the man for even thinking of hurting his wife.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”

  “Don’t even try to play innocent. Your buddy is already in custody, and he likes to talk.”

  Fear laced the man’s eyes and he darted them around the men.

  The officers stepped forward and Devon and Matt handed them their bottles. They had no idea if the man would drug men, but they weren’t taking a chance. Then, they turned away, ready for the rest of the day.

  With Rylee having no memory of their first wedding and their friends having missed it, they were getting married again.

  “We’d best hurry. Brad and Madison might end up strangling each other.”

  Devon snorted. Truer words had never been spoken. He wouldn’t tell a soul he’d seen Madison leave Brad’s room that morning. They appeared to have a love-hate relationship.

  The two brothers wove their way around gaming tables and slot machines until they stepped out on the Las Vegas Strip. He’d thought his wife would’ve chosen a traditional wedding, but, in her odd sense of humor, she said they needed to go back to where they’d started. So, they swarmed the same chapel he and Rylee had married in the first time—Graceland Wedding Chapel.

  He inventoried the guests—Jesse and Kate, AJ and Megan with little Alex, Jake and Em, Brad, Matt, Madison and most of the men on the team. A slight frown appeared. If only Trent could’ve been here. He’d taken off right after they’d returned with Rylee. Helping family on the mission wasn’t the same as accepti
ng that his parents had lied to him all his life, nor that he’d almost died doing his job. Devon would have to keep an eye on him and when it was time, they’d bring him back into the fold.

  The organ began to play and everyone settled, eyes on the doorway in the rear of the room. In she walked, and his eyes almost popped out of his head. Stunning was the first word that came to mind. He’d never seen Rylee really dressed up, and in an ivory lace dress that reached about midcalf she made a fetching picture.

  When she reached him, he couldn’t resist and pulled her in for a kiss. They finally broke apart when their official imparted, “We’re not at that part yet.”

  Laughter bubbled up out of the two of them at their Elvis impersonator’s accent. It would be a wedding neither would forget.

  Hamilton Investigation & Security

  HIS Series, Book Five

  Trent & Kelly

  To Dawn Stanton Tohill

  The best older sister anyone can have

  Writing HIS DESTINY was no different than writing any of my other books. I reached out to several people who helped me with something I used in the book whether it be a name or a concept. It is amazing the people who will step up to be helpful. I’d like to recognize these people.

  Never being pregnant, I had to have quite a bit of help on that front. Anne Alexander helped find a unique craving a woman can experience. When it came to the C-section, my sisters stepped up and walked me through it. However it was their husbands who provided the most insight into what was happening.

  I like to offer up naming some thing to my Facebook Reader Group. In this book, Helen McNabb named the band playing in Montana Whiskey Straight, and KJ Resseguie named the puppy Mollie.

  Much appreciation goes to the team that helps put this together—Eric Battershell Photography, CT Cover Creations, Polgarus Studios, and Hot Tree Editing. Without this group of four, I’d never get the book to market.

  I can’t just mention Hot Tree Editing. Becky Johnson is by far the best editor in the business. Without her, this would’ve been much different, and boring.

  THE PERSON WHO invented maternity pants was a freakin’ genius. Kelly Williams struggled to fasten her blue down jacket covering her bulging belly again. If only they’d invent a good maternity jacket that was as comfortable as her jeans, she’d be a happy camper.

  At five months pregnant, she already felt as big as a house, especially since she’d had to abandon the clothing she typically wore. Although the initial joy of being pregnant, combined with shopping for all the cute maternity clothes excited her, the thrill was quickly wearing off. She missed her short, tight-fitting dresses.

  “Kelly, I don’t like leaving you like this. I wanted you to fly home with me for the wedding. In your condition, you don’t need to be traveling alone.”

  Barely keeping from tightening her gloved hands into fists as her ire rose, Kelly instead reached out and clasped the hand of Brian Platt, her fiancé. The man didn’t know the first thing about pregnant women if he thought she couldn’t travel by herself. Pregnant women could do most anything. Sure, they shouldn’t lift heavy items, but the airport has people who work for tips to do that and more. She squeezed his hand. “I’ll be fine. It’s only a week. Besides, you’re the one who’s going home early.”

  Walking beside her, with his leather, messenger bag strapped across his chest and his wheeled luggage in his hand, he grimaced. “I know, sweetheart. Something’s come up, and I need to talk with Dad.”

  She loved Mike Platt. Growing up, he’d been like a father to her, maybe since she and Brian had been tied at the hip most of their life. As his high school sweetheart, she’d spent plenty of time at the Platt ranch escaping the craziness of too many siblings at her family’s home. “How is he?”

  Brian shook his head. “It’s hard to tell. He’s still weak and his cough is really bad. The doctors still don’t know what’s going on.”

  Her mind wondered if part of his undiagnosed illness might have something to do with his other son leaving without a word. Then she shook it off. He’d always been a strong man and while his son leaving might make him sad, it wouldn’t bring down his health. Nibbling on her cold lip, she worried about her own family. Her father was about a decade older than Brian’s father.

  As she thought of her father, she knew she still wasn’t ready to face her family. She’d put off her and Brian’s wedding as long as she could. Being five months pregnant shortened her time line. Her parents would expect her to answer to not living up to the values they’d ingrained into her from the time she was a little girl. A fist clenched around her heart.

  “Kelly, did you hear me?” Brian asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry, no.” Smiling up at him, she asked, “What did you say?”

  Leaning down, he dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “Just that I love you and can’t wait for you to be my wife.”

  At the crosswalk, they looked both ways and began to cross on their way to the parking lot to get Brian off to the airport.

  Her heart pained her. She loved him. She did. She just wasn’t in love with him despite wishing so hard that she did. She just hoped it would be enough. Guessing it had to be, she whispered, “I love you, too.”

  Brian’s hand was ripped from hers when something pushed into them. Knocked to the street, her belly tightened. Her heart constricted in panic when she reached to support her baby as she landed on her side. Oh God, please let Ashley be okay.

  Taking deep gulps of cold air, her lungs burned as she fought for each breath. With her racing heart full of fear, she pulled herself into a sitting position, looking around herself dazed. Her pulse pounded in her ears, blocking her ability to hear let alone think.

  A woman rushed to her side with a phone to her ear talking. Kelly shook her head, fighting the loudness, trying to concentrate on the woman. Pulling the cell away from her ear, the woman asked, “Are you okay, honey?”

  Kelly focused on the woman’s moving lips, letting her words register. It took her a minute to assess whether she was injured. There’d probably be a few scrapes and a bruise or two that she couldn’t see dressed as she was, but she appeared okay. But, the baby. “I think so…” Her heart picked up speed once more. Fear wove its way through her body. “But my baby… I’m not sure about the baby.”

  The woman patted her on the shoulder in a gentle, motherly fashion. “Don’t you worry none. There’s an ambulance on the way. My name is Ethel. What’s yours?”

  On autopilot, Kelly nodded as she looked around herself, taking stock of all that had happened. “Brian,” slipped from her lips. Where was he? What the hell had happened?

  The woman clucked, offering her a sympathetic smile. “I’m afraid your husband is pretty bad off. There was an EMT on the sidewalk. He’s working on him until the ambulance arrives.”

  Her gut clenched, nausea climbing up her throat. She had to go to him. Putting her hands down to help her stand, she ignored the tears blurring her vision. “I have to see him.”

  The woman’s hand touched her shoulder again, but this time it pushed her down with a force she wouldn’t have expected from a woman who couldn’t be more than five-two, with heels. “No. You need to remain here. You don’t need anything to upset you and that baby.”

  My baby. Wrapping an arm around her stomach, she brushed away an escaped tear and then craned her neck to see Brian. He was so far away from her. She shook her head, loosening more tears. She looked on, straining to see what was happening through her blurred vision, but he was surrounded by men, some stood, and some knelt, but all blocked her view.

  Turning back to the woman by her side, she tried to smile and remember her name. Ester? Ethel? Ethel. “Ethel, what happened?”

  “Oh, a car plowed right into the two of you on the crosswalk. Pulled out of a spot and gunned it. Your husband pushed you out of the way at the last minute.”

  Kelly blinked slowly not bothering to correct her and appreciating the d
irectness of the woman. She couldn’t handle anyone’s emotions but her own.

  Brian had saved her from getting hit. She gulped as worry gnawed at her every nerve. “Did the driver stop?”

  Ethel pursed her lips. “No. The bastard kept driving.”

  A hit and run. The thought shook her, bringing back with it some semblance of herself. The news helped shake off some of the shock. Son of a bitch. They’d both looked both ways to make sure it was clear to cross. Dammit. Her frustration raised her pulse rate, and she reminded herself to remain calm for little Ashley’s sake. “Did someone get his license plate number?” The police could run it and find the asshole who hurt them. Hurt. That had her looking again toward Brian. She couldn’t sit here while he was injured. He needed her by his side.

  Struggling to her feet, a burst of determination pulsed through her. She thanked the woman for her kindness but told her she had to see Brian. As sirens neared, she closed in on where he lay. His leg was bent at an odd angle, and that relieved her a little as a broken leg healed fine. Then she looked up his body, and her blood froze. With her hand to her mouth, she held back her gasp. Brian bled from his head. And she meant really bled. That couldn’t be good. He appeared to be laboring to breathe.

  Oh God.

  The EMTs jumped out of the ambulance and spoke with the man she guessed was the EMT on the sidewalk while they worked. As they did, she heard Brian ask about her. Pushing her way through, she steeled herself. She needed to stay strong for him. They could fix him. This was the twenty-first century with modern medicine.

  She made it by his side when the EMTs lifted the gurney. They stopped for a brief moment, and she grabbed Brian’s hand.

  “I love you,” he gasped. “If I don’t make it,”—pain masked his face—“take care of our little girl.”

  Kelly’s belly tightened again. Their baby kicked under her jacket. Relief at that small wonder rippled through her. Their baby was okay. “Don’t say anything like that. You’ll be just fine.” Despite her determination to remain strong, her voice wavered.