by Amy Gamet
Olivia rested her cheek against the cool wood of the table. “I knew I was engaged to someone else, and I slept with him anyway.” An image of them making love filled her mind, and she shook her head to clear it. “He’s the one who killed Marco.”
Bella’s eyes went wide. “No shit? He killed him for you?”
“No! I asked him not to, and he killed him anyway.”
“Wait. Why would the guy you were banging kill the guy you were engaged to if it wasn’t to get him out of the picture?”
“You make me sound so wonderful.”
“I’m not judging, Livy, just explain.”
Olivia sighed. “Because Marco killed Trevor’s friend, and he was about to kill another one.”
Bella pointed with her spoon. “I told you Marco was bad news. Sounds like this Trevor guy did the world a favor. Are you in love with him?”
“What? Of course not. I barely know the man.”
“Livy and Trevor, sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!”
“Geez, Bella. Why do I even talk to you?”
Bella had her eyes closed and was making out with an invisible man, her arms wrapped around nothing.
Olivia slammed her hand on the table and yelled. “Bella, I need your help, and you’re making fun of me!”
Bella stopped. “I tried giving you advice first. It was good advice, too.”
“Oh, yeah? What was that?”
“To stop beating yourself up for sleeping with the hot soldier guy in the cabin, and maybe even realize you stumbled into one of the best things that could ever happen to you, instead of blaming him for your mistakes with Marco.”
“My mistakes?”
“Yes. Your mistakes. You’re not pissed because Trevor killed him. You’re pissed because you were ever engaged to him, and you feel some bizarre sense of duty to the bastard that makes you hate yourself even more. Am I close?”
Olivia stood up, putting the top on the ice cream and dropping her spoon in the sink. “I don’t want to talk anymore.”
“I’ll bet you don’t. But unless you’re planning to lose your mind again, I think you’re pretty screwed. You’re going to have to think about it sooner or later.”
Olivia stood at the sink, one hand on either side as she stared beyond her reflection to the twinkling lights of Los Angeles.
“Listen, I’ve got to get going,” said Bella. “But I was hoping you could help me out again.”
Olivia closed her eyes. “How much do you need?”
“Well, Kenny moved out last week and we were a few months behind on the rent…”
“But I just gave you money last month! What did you do with it if you didn’t pay your rent?”
Bella counted on her fingers. “There’s groceries, and student loans, and I needed a few clothes, and Kenny’s car broke down…”
“I gave you ten thousand dollars.”
“The cost of living in L.A. is outrageous.”
“So get a job.”
Bella crossed her arms. “You know I’ve been looking. It’s not like I can just go do a movie and make a bazillion dollars like some people.”
Olivia sighed. “I’ll give you fifteen hundred. That will cover this month’s rent and some groceries.” She pulled out her checkbook.
“Fifteen…there’s no way I can get by on fifteen!”
“I don’t think I’ve been doing you any favors by giving you money.” She tore out the check and handed it to her sister. “Here’s food and shelter. You have to work out the rest for yourself.”
“Fuck you, Olivia.”
Bella stormed out of the room, the sound of the front door slamming moments later. Olivia went to the table and picked up Bella’s ice cream bowl, walked to the sink, held it up high, and let it fall.
It shattered into a hundred tiny pieces.
Feeling slightly better, she turned off the kitchen light and went upstairs to bed, eager to forget both Trevor and Bella, if only for a while.
40
Hawk had slept for sixteen hours straight after returning from the HERO Force mission to Cartagena, Columbia. It was the first good night’s sleep he’d had since he’d slept next to Olivia in the cabin and the longest stretch he’d gone without thinking of her since.
But now he was awake, and damned if she wasn’t right back in his mind as he made his way to the small grocery store two blocks from his apartment. He grabbed milk and a bag of coffee and headed for the express line.
There, right next to the bubble gum, was a picture of Olivia on a tabloid. It was like a sucker punch to the gut.
Better get used to it. You’re going to be seeing pictures of her like that for the rest of your life.
His eyes went to the headline.
BROOKE BARRONS IN LOVE WITH NAVY SEAL WHO KILLED FIANCÉ.
“Holy shit,” he mumbled under his breath, snatching up the paper, dropping the coffee, and turning to page three. There, right next to another picture of Olivia, was his service picture from the Navy, a photo of the cabin where they’d stayed, and a grainy picture of the two of them talking after the funeral.
He quickly scanned the article, his eyes catching on several sentences. “According to a source close to Ms. Barrons, she had amnesia for much of their time in the cabin together. It was then that the two of them became intimate. Our source says Brooke is ‘head over heels in love with the guy, but can’t forgive herself for cheating on Marco.’”
Trevor looked up from the paper. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
41
Olivia put the tabloid down and let loose with a screaming string of curse words, ending with Bella. “How could you do it, you rotten, traitorous bitch?” she screamed to the empty room.
Money.
She’d do anything for money.
Olivia would have preferred her sister make up a story about Olivia spending weeks in the woods with Sasquatch than telling the truth about something so entirely personal and painful, to boot.
She sank down on the sofa and pulled the paper close to her face so she could better see the picture of Trevor. It didn’t do him justice, but it was still good to see his face, and she ran her finger along his photo.
Her cell phone rang. It was her agent, Carol.
Ignore.
She reread the article several more times. What if Trevor saw this? She frowned. He didn’t seem like the type to buy tabloids, but the headline alone would be enough if it caught his eye.
Her phone rang again. Unknown caller.
Ignore.
It immediately rang again. Her agent again.
Olivia huffed and answered the phone. “Hi, Carol.”
“Darling, have you seen the tabloid headlines this morning?”
“Actually yes, I have.”
“So, is it true?”
Olivia wobbled her head back and forth and closed her eyes. “Yes, it’s true.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
“Well, my, my! Isn’t that interesting.”
“Listen, I just saw this, and I’m not really in the mood to discuss how we can spin it to my advantage right now, okay?”
“But that’s why you have me, darling. Because I’m always ready to spin things to your advantage.”
Olivia’s phone beeped. “Got another call. Gotta run.”
She intended to hang up the phone but accidentally answered the incoming call.
Fuck.
“Hello?” she said.
“Livy, is that you?”
Her stomach dropped down to her knees at the sound of Trevor’s voice on the line. “Yes, it’s me.”
“It cost me three personal favors and a hundred bucks in cash to get your phone number.”
She couldn’t help but smile. “That’s all?”
“I would’ve had to prostitute myself for your address.”
She laughed, nervous energy rising to the surface.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
“Nowhere near you, why?”
“Seriously, give me your address. I’m in town.”
Her eyes opened wide. “What?”
“I’m in town. New York gets the paper before you, remember? I hopped on a plane.”
Olivia covered her mouth with her hand. Trevor was here. He’d come for her after reading that she loved him. Emotion swamped her like a tidal wave. She didn’t think she’d have a second chance with this man, hadn’t seen how it was possible.
She rattled off her address. “I’m still in my pajamas,” she said. “My housekeeper brought the tabloid home for me.”
“It says I’m forty-five minutes away from you.”
“It’s rush hour, Trevor. Multiply that by three.” She was smiling so widely now her face was beginning to hurt.
“Taxi!” he called. “Are you still going to be home when I get there?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“You still going to be in your pajamas?”
“If you want me to be.”
“I’d rather you take them off completely.” He gave her address to the cab driver.
She loved their banter and the sexy implications of his words. “I’ll let you do that when you get here.”
“You’re getting me excited, and I’m sitting in a taxi cab with a driver named Rahul.”
She laughed out loud. “You’d better go, then.”
“I’ll see you as soon as I can.”
She showered, then washed and dried her hair, finally choosing a lacy negligee to wear for Trevor. Only once did her mind start to get the better of her, dampening her excitement with worry and regret, but she smacked it back down and refused to be unhappy.
Trevor is on his way here!
She damn near skipped through her apartment, shouting with glee.
When the doorbell rang two hours later, she ran to it and opened it wide. There he was, standing on her doorstep, a fresh tan on his skin and a hungry look in his eye that had her pulling him inside and throwing herself at him.
He picked her up as they kissed, and she held on to him by wrapping her legs around his waist.
“I missed you so damn much,” he said between kisses. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Me, either,” she said.
“Which way’s the bedroom?”
She pointed and he all but ran there, plopping her on the bed and following her down with his body.
She’d never felt so alive, so desirable, so happy. “I didn’t think I’d get to feel you on top of me again, or inside of me.”
He cursed under his breath and sat up just long enough to yank his shirt over his head. “You just talk about making love to me and you drive me crazy.”
He loosened his belt and she unzipped his jeans, reaching inside and freeing his cock from his clothing. She helped him take off his jeans and raised her arms when he pulled the negligee over her head.
Then he was inside her, neither one of them having the patience for foreplay, and just as quickly she was riding the wave of an orgasm. He was really here, he was really making love to her in her bed, and the knowledge that he wanted her so much was enough to bring on her climax.
But Trevor wasn’t through. He kept thrusting and retreating until he brought her to the edge once more before seeking his own release.
Olivia held on to his shoulders, loving the weight of him holding her down, and kissed his salty skin.
“Was it true, Livy?” he asked. “What the paper said. Was it true?”
She laid her head back on the pillow and met his eyes. “Every word. I confided in my sister and she sold them the story.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.”
“Every word, Livy? Are you really in love with me?”
The answer was clear, and she was suddenly grateful for her disloyal sister and the winding path that had brought her to this moment. She nodded. “I am.”
He smiled, laugh lines appearing around his eyes. “I love you, too.”
“It’s also true that I have a hard time forgiving myself for what happened, Trevor.”
He touched her face. “As long as you let me love you, we’ll find our way out of that darkness together.”
Olivia lifted her head off the pillow and brought her lips to his, tasting him and kissing him softly. “Thank you.”
He rolled her over so she was straddling him. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s just the beginning.”
Sheltered by the SEAL
1
Jax Andersson ran his finger around the top of his old-fashioned glass of whiskey, ignoring the raucous laughter of a group down the bar and letting the world slip out of focus.
He’d seen enough for today.
“Another?” asked the bartender, and Jax nodded once. He sat up straighter and tossed the rest of his drink back, pushing the glass toward the bartender.
“You visiting someone in town?” he asked Jax.
An image flashed in his mind, Jessa’s tortured face as she reached to slam the door behind him, and his stomach heaved. “No.” He picked up his drink and turned his attention to the TV, letting his eyes close too long between blinks. The whiskey was doing its magic.
The bartender began wiping the bar but stopped and turned his head when the bell over the door jingled. “Evening. How’re you doing tonight?” he asked.
“Good, thank you.”
Jessa.
Jax couldn’t have helped the whip of his neck if he’d tried. There she was, standing in front of the door, coolly assessing his stare, and his balls clenched tightly.
God, she’s gorgeous.
Long black hair to her waist, straight as an arrow. Wide-set eyes so brown they were nearly black. Amber skin that seemed to glow from within, her Cherokee heritage shining through time. He could have drawn her picture, he’d imagined her face so often.
She slowly began moving toward the bar. To the bartender, she said, “I’ll take a glass of Cabernet, please.” She sat down beside Jax and turned to him with a polite smile. “Hi, Jax.”
Her arm was brushing his, the lightest touch setting his skin on fire. The alcohol that had been a blessing just moments before was now an eraser, firmly rubbing out the line between how he should treat the widow of his friend and his pronounced attraction to this woman. His eyes were homing in on hers in an animalistic way that screamed, I want you.
He ripped his gaze away and sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t want to be around her right now, hadn’t planned on any company. He’d been wound tight when he checked in at the hotel across the street and come here hours earlier after leaving her house, and he would have sworn the whiskey had long since made him numb.
Except that numbness was being replaced by something else far more dangerous — an urgent need for sensation.
“Hey,” he said, searching her face for some kind of explanation. Hours before, she’d slammed the door in his face and sent him away after he’d driven all night to tell her the news he’d waited years to deliver.
We killed the man who murdered your husband.
It should have given her closure. Relief. Happiness. But instead she’d gotten angry.
So angry.
What had possessed her to come looking for him? He spoke deliberately, wanting to sound more sober than he was. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon.”
The bartender brought her wine and she fiddled with the stem. “I calmed down.”
His eyes roamed over her face, as tangible as a touch. Just to look at this woman gave him more pleasure than almost anything he could do with another, the closeness of her body beside him warming him like the heat from a fire.
She sighed. “I knew I owed you an apology for the way I acted earlier. I didn’t want that to be the last thing I ever said to you.”
The finality of her words made his jaw clench. While it had been two years since he’d last seen her face, she’d been in his life on some level or another for far longer than that, and he wasn’t prepared to let her go.
What
do you expect, now that Ralph’s dead?
When her husband was alive, he and Ralph worked together on HERO Force, the Hands-on Engagement and Reconnaissance Operations team. The group of former Navy SEALs and alphabet agency frontmen was a tight-knit group, and as Ralph’s wife, Jessa had held a place in it from the beginning.
Long enough for Jax to know her well and realize what a lucky bastard Ralph was to have her. Hell, maybe he was even a little jealous.
Then Ralph was gone, and Jax was left with a desire for Jessa he had no right to act upon. Sitting next to her right then, the smell of her perfume light on the thick barroom air, he was covered in her, steeped in her presence and beginning to drown.
Who would have thought he had it in him?
He wasn’t sober enough to have an appropriate conversation with Jessa. He wasn’t drunk enough, either, because her stare was making its way down his chest and back up to his eyes, and he didn’t know what to do with that beyond throwing her on the bar and showing her what that stare was doing to him.
He took a sip of his whiskey, the alcohol burning its way down his throat with a welcome flame.
She put her hand on his forearm. “Say something, Jax. You’re always so quiet.”
Pleasure shot through him at the contact. His eyes dipped to her neck and the straps of her small silver tank top glistening in the dim light of the bar. She was dripping in sex appeal. Soaked in it as if she’d deliberately bathed in its waters tonight.
A thousand comments came to mind, not one of them casual enough to cross his lips. His voice was hoarse. “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me how things are going. We haven’t talked in so long.”
“HERO Force?”
Pain flashed in her eyes. “No. You.”
I am HERO Force.
He reached for his drink. What else was there? He’d started HERO Force. Lived it every day, showered with it, lifted weights and fired guns with it. He’d hand selected the others and chosen the jobs they took on. If HERO Force was off-limits as a conversation topic, he was damn near out of options beyond I want to see you naked. He slipped into his comfortable mask of nonchalance and shrugged. “I’m good.”
