by Pamela Clare
Chapter Fourteen
Four days later
The first thing Gage noticed when he woke was that he was alone in his bedroom at the Outer Banks. He was acutely disappointed by that until he smelled the scents of brewing coffee and frying bacon drifting up from downstairs. He sat up and climbed out of bed, feeling much less stiff than he had when he’d left the hospital in Baltimore three days ago. The cuts on his chest were healing and the bruises were turning from purple to yellow, not nearly as sore as they had been. The side of his face was already growing new skin, though he’d probably have a bit of scarring despite all the vitamin E cream Claire insisted on slathering on him every day.
After a hot shower to ease the aches and pains even more, he threw on a T-shirt and a pair of jeans and headed down the narrow staircase to the main floor of the beach cottage. His shoulders almost brushed the walls as he descended but he didn’t want to make any major structural changes because his grandfather had built this place with his own hands and Gage wanted to preserve it.
At the bottom of the stairs the tang of salt and thyme wafted in from the open window above the kitchen sink. Beyond it, the Outer Banks lay bathed in the warm September sunshine. Bright morning sunlight filtered through the French doors he’d installed that summer, opening up the tiny space to a gorgeous view of the rolling waves hitting the beach a few hundred yards away.
If he strained hard enough he could hear the muted roar they made. His ears had healed to the point that his hearing was already improving and that fucking annoying ringing had pretty much stopped.
The sight that greeted him in the galley kitchen made his heart swell.
At the stove stood his two girls, their backs to him, chattering away while they flipped pancakes and added the finished ones to a platter waiting on the counter beside Claire. Her sapphire engagement ring sparkled on her left hand as she grabbed the ladle and poured batter onto the sizzling hot griddle. Janelle had her red-gold hair pulled back into a ponytail and Claire’s caramel-brown hair was loose against her shoulders. They stood hip to hip as they cooked and were so into their conversation that neither of them heard him enter the kitchen. They both craned their heads back when he came up behind them and settled his arms around their shoulders.
“Mornin’,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Janelle’s head and then bending to cover Claire’s lips with his own. She tasted like orange juice, sweet and tangy, and he went back in for another sample.
“Ew, okay, come on,” Janelle muttered, wiggling out from under his arm to attend to the cooking pancakes. “Can you guys tone it down in front of me? I’m only here for a couple days, you should be able to manage it no problem.”
“This is toned down,” Gage told her, smiling as he thought about the last time he’d eaten pancakes with Claire in this very kitchen, months ago when she’d practically attacked him and stripped him naked right in front of the stove.
As though she was remembering it too, Claire turned pink and smacked his arm while Janelle shook her head, but he noticed his daughter was smiling. She’d made it very clear that she approved of the impending marriage and she and Claire had spent hours going through wedding dress magazines over the past two days since she’d joined them. They had another two days with her before Janelle flew home to her mother’s, then he had one last day alone with Claire before they were both due back to Baltimore to work with the Titanium team and the rest of the taskforce to find the NSA mole and bring down the fucking cell that had nearly killed him. The team had since learned that the assassin had planned to take out him, Hunt, Ellis and Dunphy. Mostaffa had acted on orders from the contact in Tajikistan, who in turn had acted on orders from the man who appeared to be directing the TTP cell, Malik Hassani, former head of intelligence for the Pakistani ISI.
When he and Claire got back to Baltimore, they had a lot of serious shit to contend with.
Until then he planned to enjoy his time with his girls, because getting away here was good for all three of them. Claire was still grieving for Danny and the change of scenery had been the best thing he could have given her. And when Janelle left, he and Claire would spend their last day enjoying the beach, then he’d rediscover every sensitive spot on her delectable body with his hands and tongue without worrying about anyone overhearing the sensual cries he pulled out of her. Gage loved his daughter, but he couldn’t wait to be alone with Claire again.
“You hungry?” Claire asked him.
“I’m always hungry around you.”
Janelle made a strangled sound and turned from the stove with a huff. “Seriously? Hello, I’m right here. God, talk about scarring your kid for life.” She grabbed a plate and helped herself to bacon and pancakes, poured syrup all over everything and headed for the French doors. “I’m gonna go eat out on the deck so you two lovebirds can have some privacy before I lose my appetite.”
The doors shut behind her and Claire shook her head at him in consternation. “You really should watch teasing her like that. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”
“Trust me, she loves how affectionate we are around her. She told me last night during our father-daughter walk on the beach that she’s happy about us and excited for the wedding, especially since you asked her to be a bridesmaid.”
Her smile lit up her whole face. “She said that?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He reached out to run his fingers through her soft hair, loving her all the more for how willing she was to make Janelle a part of her life. Their life. “I know walking into being a stepmother isn’t easy, but so far you’re handling it like a pro.”
“Well.” She ducked her head and glanced away, that pleased smile still in place as she ladled more batter onto the hot griddle. “I’m not going to try and force anything, but respect is a two way street. I figure I’ll just give her time and let things develop naturally, then hope for the best. It’s an adjustment for us all, but I know we can do it. She’s a great kid, which helps.”
“That’s her mother’s doing.” While he didn’t have much good to say about his ex, in the parent department he had to give her an A plus. God knew he hadn’t been the best husband while they’d been married.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s your doing as well. She worships the ground you walk on, in case you haven’t already noticed.”
“I made a lot of mistakes with her and her mom, and I’m the first to admit it. But I’ve learned my lesson and changed a lot so I won’t make them again, I promise.”
“Better not, otherwise I’ll beat your ass,” she muttered, but he caught the way her lips quirked as she said it.
Grinning, Gage wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back into his body while he looked out the French doors. From his vantage point he could see Janelle’s profile, the end of her red-gold ponytail trailing over one shoulder. His daughter was a beauty, and it would only be a matter of time before the boys came sniffing around.
He shook his head. He could hardly believe he was the father of a teenage girl. Now that was some poetic justice, right there. “I’m glad you’ll be with me through whatever comes next with her. Because I have a feeling I’d better get busy cleaning all my rifles.”
Claire laughed and flipped the pancakes. “Oh, you’re gonna be that dad, huh?” She chuckled. “I love it. I can see you now, out in a rocker on the front porch with a rifle and some gun oil, polishing up the barrel when her date comes to pick her up.”
He could see it too, and the fucking horny little bastards showing up at the door better not even think about setting a finger on his baby girl before she was twenty one. “I know how teenage boys think,” he grumbled.
“You mean that they have sex on the brain all the time like men do?”
He grinned and pressed his hips against the lush curve of her ass, already growing hard at the thought of what he’d do to her later on tonight once Janelle was asleep in the guest room. If they could wait that long. “You love that I think about sex all the time.”
“Only because you’re so good in bed.” She eyed him over her shoulder, those sexy gray eyes sweeping over his chest. “And anyway, all that strenuous bedtime exercise sure seems to have helped you heal fast.”
“It’s all about incentive with me,” he murmured, bending to nibble at the side of her neck. He smelled her warm, sweet fragrance, savored the little catch in her breath and the scattering of goose bumps that rose on her skin. If he slid his hand under her shirt, he knew he’d find her nipples hard and pressing against the cups of her bra. He’d never experienced such explosive chemistry with anyone but her and he looked forward to enjoying it as often as possible.
Claire slid the most recently finished pancakes onto the platter, but there were still a few ladles of batter left in the bowl and he didn’t think he could wait that long. “How hungry are you right now?” he purred, sliding his hands up to cup her breasts. “Can breakfast wait while you come upstairs with me for a while?”
She tilted her head back and opened her mouth to reply but instead he watched her eyes darken with desire when she saw the hungry look on his face. “We can’t. Janelle’s going to come back inside any minute and she’ll know what we’re doing.”
Gage glanced outside and smiled. “Nah. She’s on her iPhone now. We’ve got all kinds of time.” Enough to pin Claire to the bed and make her beg to come before he finally relented and sent her over the edge. “I mean, if you can keep up with me.”
In answer she quickly reached out and turned off the stove. “Race you to your room, old man.”
Gage barked out a laugh and released her, then gave her a few seconds’ head start before chasing up the stairs after her on silent feet. He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her, but right now he was going to remind her of some of the perks that came with taking an older, more experienced husband.
The End
Author’s Note
Thank you for reading SINGED. I really hope you enjoyed it and that you’ll consider leaving a review at one of your favorite online retailers. It’s a great way to help other readers discover new books.
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About Kaylea Cross
NY Times and USA Today Bestselling author Kaylea Cross writes edge-of-your-seat military romantic suspense. Her work has won many awards and has been nominated for both the Daphne du Maurier and the National Readers’ Choice Awards. A Registered Massage Therapist by trade, Kaylea is also an avid gardener, artist, Civil War buff, Special Ops aficionado, belly dance enthusiast and former nationally-carded softball pitcher. She lives in Vancouver, BC with her husband and family.
You can visit Kaylea at www.kayleacross.com. If you would like to be notified of future releases, please join her newsletter. Direct link: http://kayleacross.com/v2/contact/
Against the Wall
Dee J. Adams
Dedication
This one is for Sean. Thanks for the idea to “just write it down.” It’s all your fault. None of it would’ve happened if you hadn’t believed in me. Life with you has been one awesome ride and I couldn’t imagine taking it with anyone else. Love you.
Chapter One
The gun wobbled in Tanner Bryant’s hand as he wiped the sweat trickling in his eyes. His thudding heart drowned out the sound around him. All day, he’d been calm, and cool, exacting every move. Everything had gone as planned until now. The longer he waited on the rafters, the more his nerves frayed. Only a few house lights lit the large soundstage where a half built movie set waited to be finished, and darkness kept him hidden this high up. He’d heard some rustling a while back and caught sight of a giant rat scampering by on an adjacent beam. He’d seen bigger.
Dammit, he shouldn’t have taken so much time to learn Juneau’s schedule. All of a sudden the man had hired more bodyguards as if he knew Tanner wanted a piece of him.
Tanner focused on the scene twenty feet beneath him. He couldn’t hear what the girl was telling his target, but he didn’t care. Her gestures and position pissed him off. Thirty seconds ago, he’d had a clear shot, but now, little Miss Muffet stood in his way. She was just an itty-bitty thing, not tall, not wide, but he didn’t trust his aim and didn’t want to hurt her.
But he did want to hurt the man next to her. Desperately. He wanted Maurice Juneau to suffer. Painfully and for an extended period of time. Tanner didn’t need Juneau to know who had shot him. It just mattered that the man felt pain. Juneau was smart. He might actually figure out who pulled the trigger if he learned Tanner had been released from prison. Oddly, that thought did give Tanner a sense of power. The pond scum had ruined Tanner’s life and it was only fair that Juneau knew it was him.
But, it wasn’t a prerequisite.
Tanner shifted on the catwalk. Three minutes ago, his whole body ached from being in the same position for so long. He’d gotten on the studio lot by hiding in the back of flatbed truck loaded with sets. Hiding under a black tarp had been easier than he’d expected. Waiting for Juneau had scraped his nerves raw, but now that he had the man in his sight, all his aches faded. The bastard had aged in seven years. The gray in his hair proved it.
Tanner almost didn’t care if he went back to prison. Didn’t care what his life might be like after shooting this man. He only had to pull the trigger to get satisfaction. Well, pull the trigger and hit his mark.
But no. Instead he had a little wisp of a she-thing gesturing and flailing, trying her damnedest to get Juneau’s attention. The asshole had been on the phone almost from the minute he walked onto the stage with the girl at his heels like a frantic puppy. Almost as if she knew Tanner was about to strike and wanted to save the black-hearted son of a bitch. That was impossible. Tanner had never seen her before. Didn’t know who the hell she was. His nerves were finally getting the better of him if he thought anyone knew he was here at all, much less what he was doing.
Juneau’s small office staff was supposed to be gone. He was supposed to have wrapped his last film and sent everyone off for a couple days of R & R, so who the hell was this girl?
She edged left and Tanner adjusted his aim, and just as quickly she moved right.
Damn her.
She moved left again and this time Tanner pulled the trigger. He felt the kick of the Glock in his hand at the same time a Town Car entered the huge elephant doors of the stage. The shot rang out and Juneau ducked. Fuck. He missed. The girl jumped a mile and spun around.
But Juneau ran and Tanner kept firing, nearly choking on the taste of failure. The car door opened and the bastard dove in, leaving the girl in the dust as she sprinted after the speeding black car.
Scrambling down the wall ladder, Tanner already set his sights for the next opportunity as he ran for the door. He may have missed this time, but Juneau wouldn’t be lucky forever. A last glance over his shoulder froze him. His heart beat frantically, screamed for him to run. The girl had stopped and moonlight shining from the doors illuminated her silhouette and white T-shirt. A white T-shirt that was quickly turning red as blood ate up the cotton from the top of her shoulder. His stomach lurched.
Holy shit, he hadn’t missed after all. He’d shot her.
Tanner stood, horrified at what he’d done. She’d paid a price meant for someone else and he couldn’t leave her. As if realizing something was wrong, she looked at her shoulder and wobbled on her feet. Sirens sounded in the distance and snapped Tanner back to life. Whisper quiet, he sprinted toward her. Twenty feet away and she saw him, stumbled as she took a step back. She looked deathly pale as she clutched her shoulder with the opposite hand.
She tried to say something even as her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She’d spotted the gun in his hand. Knew he was the one who’d shot her and tried to run.
Shit, now he was really fucked. Tanner grabbed her around the wa
ist just as her noodly legs buckled beneath her. She hardly weighed a thing, a hundred pounds at best. But getting out of here wasn’t going to be easy with the extra dead weight on his hands.
Tanner hefted her in his arms, checked that she wasn’t leaving a trail of blood behind them and raced for the side door. His escape golf cart waited for him. Was a golf cart really going to get him out of this? He might’ve laughed if he hadn’t been in so much trouble. But he hadn’t laughed in so long he wasn’t sure he knew how.
This late at night the studio lot was empty. A big white moon and a few dozen stars lit up the warm California sky, and Tanner kept her on his lap as he started the cart and raced toward the back lot. He’d done his homework, knew there were places to hide, ways to escape. Security here didn’t scare him. Not yet anyway. These guys didn’t compare to the prison guards he’d dealt with for so many years. Hell, the giant rats scared him more than these guys.
But just the thought of prison had him pushing the golf cart to its limit. He was not going back to prison. Not because of Juneau. Not for any reason. He’d spent enough wasted years behind bars. He’d rather spend his life on the run than in another dank cell.
After pulling the golf cart into an alley on New York Street, Tanner cut the motor. Down the small road, he spotted a dark pickup truck. Without too much thought, he lifted his load—she was still out cold—and eased toward the new wheels. He passed by a deli, dry cleaners and ice cream shop. Up close the store façades looked as fake as they really were. Tanner squinted in the moonlight when he reached the driver’s side door. Unlocked. Yes. He quickly deposited the girl in the passenger seat and jumped behind the wheel. It only took a minute to hot wire the old truck and then he was moving toward the gate. He’d never hot-wired a car before. Funny, the things a guy learned in prison.
