by Billi Jean
“Hey, sit your ass down,” Bryson said and pulled Jansen’s crutch so the other man landed hard on his ass in a chair.
She hid a grin, but not well enough.
“Dumbass will not stay down,” Bryson muttered.
“Yeah, you said that to your dick last night and it didn’t listen either,” Jansen said.
She busted up laughing a little at the offended look Bryson gave him. Cody shot the men a cool it down glare she doubted Jansen caught. He simply simmered with anger, pissed off, she guessed, at more than his hurt leg. His leg would heal, but he wanted Paris back—the sooner the better. Maybe he’d found a reason to live just like she had.
She’d noticed that most of the men who finally found a woman they wanted—really wanted—seemed to be at the end of their service. They either finally took the time to open their eyes, or, like Tazz, fell right at his woman’s feet. She guessed that most had seen enough of war and had done enough for their country to finally realize there was more out there for them if they just opened their eyes.
She knew she had, in Cody. She shot Cody an amused smile at the boys snipping and got a quick grin that he hid by rubbing his lower face. They’d discussed the situation with Paris and how she’d thought it had just been a fling, since they’d both had sex with her on camera. Cody had been one interested man. He’d then told her under no circumstances would he ever share her, but they’d make one hot film if she was interested. She was more than happy with that, but she wasn’t sharing him either.
“So, Paris,” she said when Cody nudged her under the table with his foot to get things moving.
Two sets of eyes zeroed in on her as they would a target down their scopes. She lifted an eyebrow and waited the ten seconds it took for Jansen to grumble and nod, putting on a better face before he spoke.
“Sorry, what did you find?” he asked politely. He shot Cody a glance, too, as if accessing his opinion, but Cody didn’t take his eyes off her. “’Cause, I gotta say, I hoped like heck to be there, with her, right now and not sitting here, no offense meant.”
“None taken,” she said, laughing. “Yeah, so she’s in Canada. She’s from there, a small town near the border. She was an ice skater. Did you know that? Almost Olympic winner, too. But that’s her story to tell. She’s living up there, working part-time and taking care of her uncle. Here’s some pictures of her. As you can see, she’s thinner, a bit unhappy but alive.” She shuffled the photos out on the table and both men sat up, spreading them to examine them closely.
“You can have them,” she added when Jansen just sat there staring at them. “She didn’t go willingly. I’ll introduce you to the dumbasses that scared her into sneaking out a bathroom window, but later,” she said when Jansen focused back on her with a scowl. “Right now, I’ve pieced together that she left because she’d been scared. She used a Jeep and went to a local hotel, paying cash, then got on a bus. I think she ran out of money, you know,” she added gently, “waiting for you.”
Jansen nodded. “How long?”
She winced. “Six days. She paid for the bus fare with cash, some of it quarters. A few Canadian ones, so the guy at the bus, you know, remembered her.”
He picked up a picture of Paris that Sonya thought pulled at her heart the most. Paris was so alone in it, so sad that Sonya was surprised no one else around saw the pain. But then again, in that snapshot, Sonya had caught the emotion probably hidden from the rest of the world.
“She’s doing well.” Sonya showed them a picture she’d caught of Paris ice skating. She was doing some crazy back bend thing, with her arms above her head in a halo. One leg curved so her foot touched her knee as she spun in a circle on the ice. She was like a fairy princess. “She’s lovely,” she murmured.
Jansen sat back after a moment, leaving the photos alone.
“You were there?” he asked, then leaned back over the pictures and brushed the photos together until he had the one of Paris sitting, lonely and alone on the steps of her uncle’s home with a cup of coffee. Sonya’s camera had even caught the steam from the cup. The blonde’s hair was up haphazardly in a twist behind her head, a pencil or something like it stuck in it, but she was still beautiful. Beautiful and lonely.
“Yeah, I always do the clean-up, but I didn’t know how you felt,” she said quietly. “If I had, I would—”
“I know,” he muttered. “I was in the hospital for six days. I just missed her,” he added.
“You went to the hotel?” she asked, surprised by that.
He nodded. “Carson told me she’d left. He found out about the Jeep but didn’t send anyone to town to search for her. I had this—” He rubbed his leg then his shoulder where’d he’d taken a shot.
They were silent for a while. Cody caught her eye and nodded to Bryson. Bryson just shrugged slightly. Jansen finally sat back and sighed.
“You going up there?” Cody asked, speaking for the first time on the issue.
“I’m going to take a flight,” Jansen muttered.
“I’ll drive you, it’s not a big deal,” Bryson argued. “You’ll be in worse shape if you cram that leg on a plane.”
Jansen had missed a handhold on his climb down, thinking to take the faster route after Walters had been taken care of, and had fallen. If Bryson hadn’t spotted him with his scope, Jansen might still be waiting for them to rescue him.
“Maybe you need to have something done on that leg, Jansen. That’s what? The third time you’ve wrecked it?” she said.
“I have a surgery waiting, first Paris,” he said.
“Right, well, here’s my advice, for what it’s worth,” Cody said, not waiting for them to ask. He tightened his hold on her hand. “If she’s what you want, get up there. Prove it. Make sure you do that because you might have a hard sell.”
Jansen winced. “I can explain what happened.”
“Sure you can,” Sonya agreed. “If anyone can put a smile on her face, it’s you.” She tilted her head, thinking as she said, “If you concentrate on her and her happiness, then maybe you’ll even get the whole deal—love, happiness, all that storybook stuff.”
Cody caressed his thumb inside her palm and she glanced over to see the love reflected in his blue eyes. “Yeah, show her how to smile, and maybe you’ll get more than you ever bargained for,” Cody said, clearly referencing her.
She leaned into his shoulder and kissed his jaw.
“Ah, hell, there they go,” Jansen grumbled scooting his chair back. “That’s our cue to go, bro.”
“Sonya, Cody,” Bryson said quietly, “it’s good to see you happy, Sonya. Treat her right, man,” he added firmly and slapped Cody on the back. “You do not want that kind of trouble down on your head, believe me.”
Cody opened his mouth but she covered it with her hand. “It’s okay. He not only treats me right, but he always will.”
She watched both men leaving, waving to them when they got in their SUV. Carson was gone, Walters was dead, and now she had what she had never dreamed she’d have.
Love.
“I love you, Cody Johnson,” she said and turned in his arms.
“I love you too, Sonya. How about we tack my name on yours?”
She blinked at that, unsure what he meant until his grin grew and he drew her hand up to kiss her finger. “Marry you?”
“I think it’s a perfect ending, don’t you?” he asked.
“Ending? This,” she said and grabbed him by his shirt, “is a beginning, cowboy, so maybe,” she added, softer, “promising to spend it with you is a perfect beginning.”
“Firecracker, you make me so damn happy I could dance.”
She smiled and tiptoed to kiss him. “Then do it, but maybe after…you know”—she edged him backward with a subtle shift of her body along his—“after you give us another wild ride.”
He picked her up by the waist and spun with her, still careful of her, but so obviously thrilled by her answer that he had to do something.
“Around
and around, but no getting off now, woman,” he said with a grin and set her down breathlessly. “Marry me, Sonya Petrok. Make me the happiest man on earth.”
“There’s no backing out of this,” she warned him. “And no room for issues.”
“Not one,” he promised and moved her backwards this time, but she went, sure that her cowboy was going to make her the happiest woman on earth—for as long as he lived. Maybe beyond.
“Yes, yes, yes, absolutely yes,” she whispered, hugging him around the neck so their lips were touching.
He pressed her gently back on the bed and gave her one of his cocky grins as he settled his weight over her, careful not to put pressure on her still tender ribs.
“You’re going to have so much fun, firecracker. We’ll never get enough of it, even if we live to be a hundred and three.”
“Of you. I’ll never get enough of you,” she whispered and wrapped her legs around his lean hips. “I never could have let you leave, Cody, not without taking a piece of me with you. From the first, I wanted you to stay,” she said realizing when she did it was the truth. She’d not allowed herself to dream of this, but she’d never wanted him gone.
“Baby, I never planned on leaving,” he murmured stroking her hair back from her forehead. His grin grew and he bent his head to brush a kiss to her lips. “Not once. Never will,” he warned. Then he stopped talking, and put his mouth to another use altogether.
She didn’t mind. She loved him, completely, totally loved him. Around and around and around we go, but now she knew that meant she could never live without the ride—or his love.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Sisterhood of Jade: Claiming a Demon’s Heart
Billi Jean
Excerpt
Chapter One
Bethany stood before the mirror in her sister Beauty’s home and turned this way and that. Today she’d borrowed one of Beauty’s favorite sundresses. The fabric was lightweight, and fit snugly over her breasts and ribs, then flared out from her waist to her upper thighs where it floated around her legs. The small pearl buttons going down the front made it appear old fashioned but still casually chic.
She smiled at her reflection, amazed at how well Beauty’s dress fit her. Last she’d been in Beauty’s home, nothing could have fit her.
But it had been much more than a year ago, hadn’t it?
Thirty years had passed in the Fay realm since she last stood here. For her family, it had been only a short time ago. The oddness of that settled over her, almost like a dream.
The room was the same, and yet it seemed like something out of her past.
It was, wasn’t it?
An odd, disorienting sensation made her close her eyes for a moment to gain her bearings on the here and now. Gregory had said such things might happen at first. Time flowed differently in different worlds, but going from one to another was like taking the red eye from Hong Kong to New York City.
A few seconds of vertigo and she relaxed, sensing the Earth beneath her feet. She grounded herself, opened her eyes and smiled ruefully at her reflection. It was a good thing she’d come here and not gone out on the town.
How does Gregory handle shifting from world to world?
He’s ancient. That’s how.
She grinned and turned around to survey her old room.
The quilt her mother had sewn for her still covered her bed, with the ragged left corner where one of her many little pets had chewed on the fabric until it had frayed. She’d slept under that quilt, holding it tight to her chest, wishing with all her might that her parents would return—alive. And then, she’d done the same for Beauty.
Pictures still sat on her night table, the one in the center of her and Star, with Ranger grinning in the background, his arms around them both. They’d just been outside, throwing snowballs and having a fun time before joining her sisters for a huge feast.
Her laptop still sat on her desk, with her pencils and pens all arranged in her pencil box, ready for whatever spell she needed to work out on paper first. There were even drawings she’d sketched then filled in with elaborate color, just to add more detail before she gave the spell a try. If she remembered correctly, it had been a spell for curing her pimples. She ran her finger over the intricate symbols, smiling at the memory.
This was home, but now, it was a home from her childhood.
Even the cream curtains and soft chair by the window were familiar, yet like a blast from her past. She’d curled up there on rainy days and read for hours—or sat there and stared outside at the night sky, wondering where Agni was and if he’d wait for her to grow up.
Sighing, she turned back to the mirror and adjusted her sundress. She’d reached her majority among the Fay. She didn’t need to worry over Agni waiting on her. Her blue eyes darkened, reflecting her worry more than she liked. A frown pulled at her brow, lending her youthfulness a bit more maturity, but not very much. She looked twenty-something. Certainly not topping the hill to reach fifty.
Agni didn’t seem thousands of years old either, did he?
“Bethany?”
Excitement buzzed down every nerve—or felt that way, at least. She practically twitched with anticipation, but she stemmed it at her sister’s call. Beauty was very tricky to deal with. The empathy gift ran strong in her, strong enough to make Bethany marshal her thoughts before she called out, “Come in.”
“Oh, my!” Beauty said, as soon as she swung the door open. “I still can’t believe you’re all grown up!”
She walked over, all smiles, to stand behind her in the full-length mirror. She smoothed a hand down Bethany’s hair. Everyone seemed to do that—touch her hair. Even as a child, they’d either rumpled it or smoothed it. Maybe it’s a family thing, she thought, tugging on a long length of it.
“So stunning. You are so beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she murmured. “I love this dress.”
Beauty frowned at her in the mirror and tilted her head to examine Bethany’s face a bit too closely.
“You look wonderful and come on. Don’t worry,” Beauty said, squeezing Bethany on the shoulder. “It’s your birthday, nothing more. A lot of people talking, blah, blah, blah. Just go with the flow.”
Bethany pushed her hair out of the way and down her back, where it slid to the top of her butt. She’d never cut it, but it never grew any longer. She caught Beauty’s eyes in the mirror and made a face. Her sister laughed like Bethany knew she would.
“Yeah, and everyone freaking over me being all grown up too, right?” she muttered.
“Well, there is that,” Beauty said. “But you had to know that would happen! Come on, outside of Star and Ranger—who both sneaked off to see you in the Fay Realm—none of us were ready for an all grown up Bethany.”
“Yeah, I got that—when Samantha freaked out.”
They both laughed, sharing the moment of humor in a way she never had as a ten-year-old child.
“Just relax. You’ll be fine.”
Bethany nodded, reached over and squeezed Beauty’s hand. “You’re right. It’s just family. Do I look okay?”
Beauty was dressed for the warm day in a soft cream and rose-patterned sundress, the long length of it reaching her calves, but so sheer, Bethany knew Torque would be frowning the entire day. She’d added short, dark brown cowboy boots and a small jean jacket. No doubt she’d added the covering at her mate’s request. Still, Beauty was…well, beautiful. No matter what she had on, Torque frowned as if he thought her sister might suddenly fall all over another male. Bethany knew better. The two of them were worse than Derrick and Samantha—or almost. Torque didn’t doubt where his mate’s heart was—he just didn’t want anyone else enjoying too much of Beauty’s beauty.
“You’re stunning as always.”
“Right! Relax and enjoy it,” Beauty coaxed, tucking her long blonde hair behind her ears. “Or they’re here because they seem to have grown on us, huh?”
Bethany laughed.
“Yes, I suppose they have,” she murmured, thinking on Agni and his handsome face and intense eyes. Will he be here?
“You will take your name today, won’t you?”
Bethany turned at the question and took a seat next to Beauty on her bed. “I will. I suppose. Bethany is a child’s name. Blood Moon is a name I hope to grow into.”
Blood Moon. Would she earn such a name? The last witch with that name had freed hundreds of women from the inquisition. She’d also cut the heads off the Death Stalkers posing as priests torturing the witches. A Fay princess with a warlock for a father, the first Blood Moon had done amazing things.
Bethany had to wonder what her mother had been thinking.
“Don’t worry. Sheesh,” Beauty said. “Look at me,” she went on, sitting Indian style on Bethany’s bed. “I don’t use my true name. Instead Torque decided I’m Beauty, and really,” she said, giving Bethany a grin, “someday your mate will do the same.”
Bethany laughed. “Oh, I’m not so sure on that,” she said, but her stomach took off with what felt like a million butterflies. What would Agni name her? Would he touch her like Torque always caressed Beauty, or hold her close like Derrick with her sister Samantha? Her face warmed at the thought and her reflection grew rosy.
