Rory (In the Company of Snipers Book 6)

by Irish Winters

  “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

  “Come on. Get dressed. I’ll take you gals to one of Tyler’s favorite places on the planet. They’ve got cheeseburgers, nuggets and fries,” he rambled, coaxing her mind off her vision or whatever it was.

  “I didn’t know they had champagne at Burger King.”

  “That’s another thing I know. It comes in those little boxes with those skinny little straws.” He winked at Nima like it was a secret between the two of them. Nima winked back. A tiny smile cracked Ember’s face.

  And just like that they were friends again.

  Fifteen

  “Are you sleeping?” Ember whispered, her brain going a mile a minute.

  “No,” came Rory’s answer from the other queen-sized bed.

  Good. She suspected he was as wide-awake as she was. Nima snored lightly by her side.

  “I have an idea.”

  “So do I.”

  He was already padding toward the bathroom in his bare feet. Wow. She’d never noticed before how lazily he walked or the way those flannels PJs hung suggestively off his hips. The man was a study in contrasts. Wide-shoulders, narrow hips, and ripped abs. He scratched his belly in typical guy, I-got-an-itch fashion. Closing the bathroom door, he left just enough room to reach inside and turn on the light. “Let’s talk.”

  And so they sat cross-legged in their flannel pajamas at the end of Nima’s bed and strategized in the dim light seeping through the cracked bathroom door. Rory’s plan was simple. Sometimes hiding in plain sight was the right thing to do.

  Halloween was two days away. If they could make it all the way to Alexandria without the assassins finding them, they could walk right up to Kelsey’s front door disguised as trick-or-treaters. The TEAM office was nearby. Alex could have all available agents on his front doorstep in less than five minutes the way he drove.

  “This is where we might run into trouble,” he said. “We can’t stay there very long or we’ll endanger Kelsey.”

  “Wow, Rory. It’s like we’re sharing the same brain. Your plan fits perfectly with mine. You can be a big fat caveman.”

  His hand went to his flat stomach. “Excuse me? I’m not fat.”

  And Ember could’ve kissed him. He could be so darned endearing. Despite the less than cheery premonition she’d received from Nima, it felt good to strategize with her agent in charge. They were back on the same page.

  “You will be by the time I’m through with you. You’ll be concealing not only your handgun in your big belly, but another Nima, too. We’ll name her Nima Two. Won’t Kelsey be surprised? You’ll show up pregnant at her front door. We’ll drop off the real Nima by sleight of hand and leave with your four-year-old latex daughter in tow.”

  His face crinkled with the first smirk of the day. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”

  Ember took a deep breath to calm her excitement. Finally, they could be one step ahead of the assassins, but she needed to explain better. “I make dolls, Rory. Didn’t you know? And if we stay here another day or two, and if you go shopping for me first thing in the morning and get everything I need, I can make a doll that looks just like Nima. And now that I think of it....”

  Her brain pinged. A flood of inspiration took over. Enthusiasm struck. She knew precisely how to bait the assassins. They wanted Nima? They could have her. This would work!

  Without thinking for once, Ember launched herself at Rory and planted one on his very surprised lips. Only he didn’t seem as surprised as she’d expected.

  He rolled to his back on the carpet with his arms around her, not letting go. And there she was, her hands and breasts on his chest, her heart suddenly in her throat. She’d broken the fraternization rule, big time.

  He no longer seemed to be the uptight agent in charge. His right hand brushed her hair away from her face while his other found purchase at the back of her neck, his fingers gently pulling her in.

  She wanted this. Needed this, but— “No,” squeaked out in a heated rush.

  “Yes,” he growled softly, closing the distance, his tongue moistening his lips in anticipation. She shut her eyes, daring to hope. He brushed his nose against her cheek, pressing his lips to the seam of hers. Just his lips. No tongue. No pressure for more. Just the minty toothpaste flavor of his mouth. The brush of his whiskered chin against hers. The feel of his hard body beneath hers.

  Her heart melted. This gentle warrior had hold of her now. This was what she’d wanted, just one kiss that didn’t feel stolen or forced, one that he actually wanted to share. Everything would be okay. Only—it wouldn’t.

  He deepened the kiss and she let him, parting her lips. Fraternization rules be damned. With her palms to his cheeks, her heart took over. She poured all her hopes and fears into that kiss. Only....

  He mumbled into her mouth, “Easy, Mrs. Dillon. We’re not alone.”

  He probably meant Nima, but Ember knew better. The vision flooded back and spoiled everything. She stood to lose everything she’d just found. The moment his death had been revealed, the magic was ruined, her hopes with it.

  Reality set in. The vision was scary real. She eased away from his chest and back to her haunches where she belonged. Where she couldn’t get hurt.

  “Hey, you.” He sat up with her, pulling her hand back to his chest. “I’m sorry.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her fingers didn’t want to leave the warmth where he held her. Any other time, she would’ve pulled him back for more by the color of his T-shirt. “I shouldn’t have done that. We have to plan this Halloween routine down to the last detail. Sit up and listen.”

  He already was sitting cross-legged, his brows knitted with more than just worry. He’d clasped her hand to his chest, holding it in place. “So talk. I’m listening.”

  Tamping down her impulsive heart, she focused on the most important strategy of her lifetime. “Like I said. I make dolls.”

  He nodded, his thumb tucked inside her hand and rubbing a small circle of encouragement on her palm.

  Her heart seemed to have taken up residence where her brain should be. “And, umm, I make dolls,” she repeated, “and if you’ll get me the supplies I need, I have a plan to give the assassins Nima. At least to make them think that’s who they’re getting.”

  “How?” He flattened her palm over his heart, like that helped her brain work any better. His heart. The one that would cease to beat if the vision was true. If Alex cried. If Harley—

  Ember took a deep breath and took her hand back. The only way to change his future was to implement her plan. Rory was going to live. “Think about it, Dennison. We’re officially off the grid. Mother can’t even find us, and all Alex knows is we were in Chicago and safe at the time we sent the email. Right now we could place Nima just about anywhere and she’d be safe.”

  “If he understood the message you sent,” Rory cautioned. He leaned in, his elbows on his crossed knees, his chin on his interlocked fingers.

  “He did,” Ember replied confidently, her traitorous eyes scrolling over Rory’s lean frame. The slightest brush of chest hair peeked up from his T-shirt, teasing her. “We gave him enough clues, but here’s the thing. We have to assume the assassins are watching everyone even remotely associated with The TEAM, so we can’t just walk in and drop Nima off with Kelsey. We’ll have to look like everyone else when we show up at her front door. I’m thinking you’d make a good caveman. That way we can hide the Nima doll inside your big belly. I’ll be a cavewoman. Nima can be the cute cavebaby.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Right, so we need to look like we still have Nima with us when we leave. We get back in our car. We place a call to Alex, only he already knows what’s going on. The TEAM is already set to move in. The assassins intercept the call. We lure them into the open.”

  “And blam. They go up in smoke this time. This just might work. Alex has a fairly decent gun collection at his home,” Rory murmured. “By the time we left Kelsey’s, we
could also be armed to the teeth.”

  “And if I know Alex like I’m pretty sure I do, the guys on The TEAM are already on twenty-four-seven alert. He might even have the FBI standing by to go after these assassins.”

  He nodded. “We’ll still need to give him advance warning so he can get all the players in place. While you’re making your Nima doll, I’ll put the plan in writing for Alex. Kelsey will know how to get it to him. If the assassins are intercepting TEAM communications, that one call should trigger them.”

  “Right,” she murmured. Here she was planning what very well could be her and Rory’s deaths. There seemed no way around it.

  “You do realize we’re taking a huge risk leaving Nima with Kelsey, don’t you? That’s my biggest concern. Kelsey might be tough, but she’s still just one woman. Plus, we’ll have abdicated our responsibilities to Alex’s wife, not something I’m thrilled about doing.” Rory tapped her knee. “Hey. Are you still with me?”

  Ember jolted out of her daze. “Yes, just thinking is all. I know leaving Nima alone with Kelsey is a risk, but like I said. We’re off the grid. Even if the assassins are watching her place, we’ll look like the rest of the goblins and spooks roaming the streets. Alexandria always puts on a good Halloween extravaganza. It’s a big deal. There will be tons of tourists and families with little kids going from business to business and door to door. We’ll blend right in. What else can we do?”

  His fist went to his chin. “It just might work.”

  Rory looked convinced, but honestly? She didn’t know if she wanted it to work or not. Killing the assassins, yes. Losing him, Nima, or Kelsey? No way.

  “Suppose we do make it safely to Kelsey’s, where’s a good place to lure the assassins to?” he asked. “You got any bright ideas?”

  “There’s a new subdivision going up west of the Masonic temple. It’s still vacant.”

  “Good deal.” He placed both palms to his kneecaps. “Listen. About before—”

  She rolled to her feet. “Forget it. All this planning’s made me tired. I’m going back to sleep.”

  Ember left him sitting there. She had to. Her plan seemed fraught with too much risk. And death. Climbing in next to Nima, she snuggled the sleeping child to calm her nerves.

  “Are you sleeping?” he asked after a few minutes from his bed.

  “Trying to,” she answered.

  “Goodnight, Ember.”

  It took all her strength to answer calmly. “Goodnight, Rory.”

  Sleep never came, only a continual rerun of the premonition. Exhausted with worry, she rolled out of bed before the sun was up, showered and dressed for the new day. She had a doll to make. Nima Two had to be perfect.

  It took one day to fashion the doll’s body out of pre-formed molded plastic face, arms and hands. Rory was a faithful servant, running to the nearest hobby store for fabric and sewing supplies for the doll’s body and their caveman costumes. Ember used all of her artistic skills to paint the perfect Nima face, light blue eyes and all. And Rory, God bless him, also bought a small USB recording device and a Bluetooth speaker. By the end of the second day, not only did they have a set of realistic costumes, they had a moving, talking Nima doll puppet.

  “Watch this,” Rory whispered, the remote control for Nima Two in the palm of his hand. “I’ve been playing with Nima and recording her voice. How’s it sound?”

  Nima sat on the floor facing Rory and Nima Two, her twin.

  “Mama Ember,” the doll said while he made its head turn to the side and back again.

  Nima’s eyes widened.

  “Me want down,” Nima Two said.

  Ember smiled at the look of wonder on Nima’s face. If she believed, maybe the assassins would, too.

  The next morning found them on the road again, Nima Two stowed in the trunk along with their costumes. The fields and towns of Indiana flew by. Before long, Rory pulled over at a Mom and Pop’s diner across the Indiana/Ohio state line for lunch. The sunny autumn weather couldn’t have made a nicer day. Farming implements, pumpkins, and garlands of autumn leaves decorated the little diner. Lunch was a hundred times better than their fast food meal of the night before: grilled chicken salad, homemade cinnamon applesauce, and hot cornbread dripping with honey butter.

  In the middle of eating, Nima’s little head plunked to her outstretched arm on the table. “I think that’s our signal to go.” Rory scooped her out of her booster seat and into his arms. “You ready?”

  Ember pushed her chair back and turned away. Her heart had been tenderized to the point of mush. Rory’s skillful handling of that little girl didn’t make it easier. Despite his attempts to cheer her, the dark mood of the vision lingered. Her worst day was still ahead. They could laugh and joke all they wanted today, but too soon Rory would fall in the line of duty just like Todd.

  “Oh, look.” Rory pulled an extra long black and orange striped scarf off the counter display rack and draped it around her neck, a big cheesy smile on his face. He was relaxed and handsome, his smile full of mischief. “This is so-o-o you.”

  Focusing on exact change at the check out counter, she tried to sound stern. “I’m not buying it. Put it back.”

  “Oh, come on, Mama Ember,” he begged in his best imitation of a little boy. “Puh-leezz?”

  Darn him. A woman could fall into those deep blue pools and never be seen again.

  “Come on. Can I have it?” It was so charming when he did that!

  One more look into those teasing, mischievous little boy eyes and she turned into the biggest sucker on earth. Ember paid for the goofy scarf.

  “You sound like a real mother.”

  “You’re a brat. I do not.”

  “See? You’ve got the vocabulary down. You’re mom material through and through.” He stooped to pick up something off the ground. “Hold out your hand and close your eyes.”

  When she complied, he placed something light in her open palm. Ember looked down at a golf ball-sized pinecone. “I’m glad it’s not a bug. What’s this about?”

  “Simple. Mom sent one with every care package while I was deployed. They were from the tree in our front yard. You don’t have to keep it,” he said as he pulled the car out of the parking lot and into traffic. “But you’d be surprised how a little thing from home can turn a dark day around.”

  She tucked the pinecone under the flap to one of the backpacks. Mrs. Dennison sounded like a neat mom. “How many pinecones did she send?”

  He grinned. “You’ll see.”

  Before long, they stopped for the night at another nice but out of the way motel. Rory secured the car and got Ember and Nima situated. Then he took a walk around the premises to ensure he knew where all the exits were. By then, Ember had Nima bathed and in her pajamas for the night. It was late. They’d driven all day and Nima fell asleep quickly. Dinner was oriental take-out, which they ordered from the café in the lobby and ate in their room. Entertainment was whatever was on the television. Rory and Ember lounged around the room like they had nothing better to do.

  Oh, yeah. Sure.

  More and more she had to look away to keep from throwing herself at him. He was an industrial-sized magnet; she was molten, pliable steel ready to fly across the room into his arms. All he had to do was say the word. Or not. One smoldering look would do. Heck, all he had to do was breathe hard.

  Separate queen-sized beds placed only feet apart from each other declared the problem louder. She was supposed to sleep with Nima in the one while he slept alone in the other? Yeah, right. Like she didn’t hear every sound he made during the night, every rustle of the blankets, every moan and grumbling groan? Like she couldn’t picture lying next to him, feeling his arms and legs wrapped around her? She bit her lip hard to shift her feelings off him. It didn’t work.

  Stop it already. Think, Ember. Think. You know better. Marriage, motherhood and all that stuff are not in the cards for you. No way. You’re not Mom material. You don’t want to be.

  She took a
cold shower and wore her clothes to bed. Somehow the blue flannel with snowflakes had taken a turn toward sexy, a slippery slope since their midnight strategy meeting.

  His brow arched when she pulled the bedcovers over her jeans, but he didn’t say anything. He had to have felt it, too. He sat against the headboard of his bed, still fully dressed except for his boots, still watching television, and still as irresistible as ever.

  When he turned the TV off, the room darkened enough that she took the chance. Opening her eyes, she sought his profile across the room. Only he wasn’t there. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands on his knees, watching her.

  “Hi,” he said softly. “I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep, either.”

  She gulped down her foolish, feminine hopes and dreams. “You were right.”

  “You’re one heck of an operator, Ember Davis. I couldn’t have done this operation without you.”

  With her heart climbing up her throat, she didn’t dare lift the covers to sit up for the conversation. That would be too much like daring fate. No meant no. Remember?

  “When everything settles down, I’d like you to come over to my place for dinner. I grill a mean T-bone. Tyler would get a kick out of you, and I know you already like him. We could knock back a bottle of wine and, you know. Chill.”

  “That would be nice,” she whispered. How does a woman on fire even begin to chill?

  “I’d like another kiss now,” he whispered, “but I’ll understand if you say no.”

  She was off her bed and in his arms before he knew what hit him. But he didn’t kiss her. The groan that swelled out of him sounded pain-filled. Anguished. Maybe even heartbroken. Cupping her head to his chest, he pressed her under his chin. His heart thundered beneath his black T-shirt almost as much as hers pounded back.

  Despite the dire premonition, contentment flooded the motel room. Wanted was a very good place to be. It was enough just to be in this man’s very capable hands, just to be held against the only heart that beat in sync with hers. He pressed his mouth to her forehead, branding her with an intimate, yet chaste kiss. So much strength and love radiated from him. So much confidence. She closed her eyes and let herself believe. The vision had to be wrong. Maybe there was hope.