by Lisa Hughey
I’d address that later. Right now I was stuck on only one thing.
“You’re cursed?” Mr. Science actually believed in a curse. I couldn’t help it. I giggled. “Seriously?”
He rested his forehead on my shoulder curled his arms around my waist. “I know it’s stupid. We’re not really cursed.”
“But?”
“I am not so good with women.”
“Do you want to be?”
“With one in particular, yes.” As I sat on his lap, the boom of his heart reverberated against his chest and through my arm and shoulder.
Me. He meant me.
My heart thudded in time with Zeke’s, both our bodies shaking. My lips lifted tremulously. I had dreamt of having choices for so long. I wasn’t about to waste this chance. This choice. I could figure out what I was going to do with my life later. But I knew right now that whatever I did I wanted to do it with Zeke by my side. But still, it was a big step.
Especially for someone as relationship challenged as I was. So I fell back on science. The rules and regulations and laws that had gotten me through life up to this point.
“Ever heard of Hebb’s Law?”
“You’re talking science right now?” His mouth tipped up. And clearly he wasn’t actually thinking about the actual law.
“Yep, Geek Boy.”
He laughed hard. His happiness rumbled through him and wrapped around me, filling that dry well with an incandescent joy until I thought it would spill out of me.
“Got it.” He brushed a curl of hair from my cheek.
“So what do you think?” My heart thudded painfully against my breastbone.
“I think I love you,” he said against my lips.
Oh my Goddess. “I love you too.” It was crazy and the least logical moment in my life. But somehow it was true.
His arms tightened around my waist. “Remind me about Hebb’s Law.”
“Neurons that fire together wire together.” I let his heat, his love flow through me and back into him just like the law suggested. “What do you think?”
“Experiments are in order.” He proceeded to wire us together.
Epilogue
Carson Black reclined on a lounge chair by the salt water pool at their private bungalow and surveyed the people around him. Not just people, his charges. His responsibilities. They represented his greatest regrets and his greatest accomplishments in all his years in the espionage business. And all the years in his life.
Antoinette perched next to his hip. Gorgeous and glowing in a sexy white bikini. He was so thankful that she’d accepted his need to take care of this group of people when she’d been so young.
Staci sat in the lounge chair next to him. Jordan sat behind her, legs stretched out while Staci rested between his thighs, and their entwined fingers rested gently on the rounded bulge of her very pregnant belly.
The leisurely sweep of Jordan’s palm over her shoulder and the casual affection between them was a balm to Carson’s soul. After everything they’d been through, they deserved happiness.
“How’s work?” She had changed her focus and given up her work with the CIA. Instead she’d moved into mostly humanitarian work. But she was still teaching.
Her next class was going to focus on Women’s Rights and Organizations with a concentration in war torn countries.
“Great.” She smiled and looked up at Jordan her eyes glowing. “I’ve tagged contacts from all over the world to be guest speakers, sharing their personal experiences about the trials and tribulations of living conditions for mothers and children and what they have to do to survive.”
Jordan laced his fingers with hers. “Fariya would be thrilled.”
Staci’s eyes welled with tears. Carson knew she still harbored a great sadness for the woman who’d sacrificed her life so that Staci could live.
Carson tried to redirect the conversation. “You ever going to tell us if it’s a boy or a girl?”
Jordan rumbled beside her. “We decided to be surprised about the baby’s sex. But after the last sonogram, and another round of blood tests, the doc told us the bebé is healthy which is all that matters.”
“I’m going to be a grandpa.”
Staci laughed and glanced around the patio. “The kid’s certainly going to have an eclectic family.”
Carson marveled at their contentedness and thanked the stars that Jordan refused to give up on Staci.
Noise from the pool drew their attention.
Zeke had Sunshine perched on his shoulders, her feet tucked under his armpits, and one fist pumped in triumph after they won their game of chicken. And Jamie was sitting on Lucas’s shoulders, her fingers gripped his hair as she laughed so hard she was bent over, eyes closed tightly, clearly trusting Lucas to hold on to her. He marveled at how open and relaxed and happy she was.
Sunshine fell back into the water, dipping below the surface, her hair a long black cloud around her body as she floated to the surface before flipping it away from her face. Zeke curved his arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.
Zeke pulled her out of the pool with one arm, and she launched into his arms. Sunshine rubbed her palm over his fuzzy head and whispered in his ear.
“Maybe Sunshine can take your class,” Carson said as Zeke and Sunshine sauntered over to a lounge chair.
Sunshine had followed Zeke to D.C. Barb had written her letter of recommendation and was acting as her mentor. Sunshine was going to start her first semester at Johns Hopkins in two weeks. They’d found a house that was in between Crypto City and the university and moved in together.
“Sunshine could probably teach my class,” Staci quipped.
Sunshine blushed.
“My girl is super smart.” Zeke rubbed a towel over his buzzed head.
Sunshine snapped her towel at him. “Keep it up, Geek Boy.”
“Watch it, Granola Girl,” he snarked but the pure love shining from his eyes belied his teasing words.
Sunshine formed her thumbs and pointer fingers into a heart and flashed the silly symbol at him.
Jamie shoved out of the pool with Lucas right behind her. Not surprisingly, those two were the last to join their little circle. But she was here. And Carson was grateful.
Six months ago he could barely get her to go for coffee.
Remarkably, she and Lucas had stuck. Carson thought it was likely more due to Lucas’s stubborn refusal to leave but he could see the warm, soft affection in her eyes when she thought no one was looking. She loved him.
Lucas had moved his business to D.C. and insisted Jamie move in with him. They’d rented Jordan’s unit in Alexandria next to Staci’s rowhouse.
“Who’s up for Mexican?” Jamie asked.
After a chorus of “We’re ins,” Jamie whispered in Lucas’s ear. By the grin on Lucas’s face, Carson had a feeling they were going to disappear for a few minutes before they went and got the food. She slithered against his body until they were flush together, not a sliver of sunlight between them.
They were still waiting on Bella and Johnny. And Kat was coming over with her son. But right now, he was content. A feeling of pride and accomplishment swelled over him.
They’d made it.
He threaded his fingers through Antoinette’s and lifted her hand to his lips. He brushed a grateful kiss over her knuckles.
She turned her head and smiled at him, her hazel eyes sparkling with the same gratitude. These were his children. Maybe not by birth, but he’d looked out for them, guided them, and tried to mentor them for the past thirteen years. By virtue of his slavish need to follow orders without questioning, he’d inadvertently changed the course of their lives. Of his own life. And then last year, he’d almost lost all of them.
Antoinette’s lips curved as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.
“Time for a toast.” Antoinette’s voice was husky. She poured champagne into plastic flutes and handed them around to everyone but Staci who got orange ju
ice.
“To Carson,” Zeke yelled.
Antoinette murmured, “My hero.”
“To the new Assistant Director.” Staci raised her paper cup of orange juice.
David Armbruster was awaiting a military tribunal for his role in the deaths that changed their lives. Carson was thankful they’d been successful in discovering Armbruster’s treachery and stopping him before he destroyed even more lives.
He glanced around the patio. But they’d made it through, he’d protected his charges and they’d come out on the other side with their own brand of happiness.
The secrets of the past, from World War II through to today, had shaped their futures. His files on those dark days could be closed and stamped cleared.
Carson cheered right along with them.
No more cold secrets. No more hot lies.
They’d all gotten their happy ever after.
***
Thank you for reading Burned, Zeke and Sunshine’s story!!! If you like these characters as much as I do, I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book too. Here are some suggestions.
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Dedication
To geeks everywhere. This one’s for you.
ps. While this is the conclusion of the Black Cipher Files trilogy, there are a few characters who really need their happy ever afters, so you’ll see Barb and Kat again sometime in the future.
Books by Lisa Hughey
Black Cipher Files Romantic Suspense
The Encounter, A Prequel to Blowback
Blowback
Betrayals
Burned
The Seven
Archangel Rafe
Archangel Zach…Coming Soon
Snow Creek Christmas Anthology
One Silent Night
Family Stone Romantic Suspense
Stone Cold Heart, (Jess, Family Stone #1)
Carved in Stone (Connor, Family Stone #2)
Heart of Stone (Riley, Family Stone #3)
Still the One (Jack, Family Stone #4)
Jar of Hearts (Keisha & Shane, Family Stone #5)
Family Stone Box Set featuring Stone Cold Heart, Carved in Stone, Heart of Stone, Still the One, and Jar of Hearts
Cold as Stone (John, Family Stone #6)…Coming Soon
About Lisa
Lisa Hughey has been writing romance since the fourth grade, which was also about the time she began her love affair with spies. Harriet and Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys later gave way to James Bond and Lara Croft and Jason Bourne. Exploring the complex nature of a profession that requires subterfuge and lies fascinates her. She loves combining her two passions into fiction. As evidenced by her Black Cipher Files series.
Archangel Rafe was her first foray into the paranormal but after spending time in the Angelic Realm, it won't be her last. At their heart, the Seven novels are about the dynamics of family relationships. But the really hot Archangels don't hurt.
And recently she's been immersed in the Stone Family novellas, stories about a blended family of brothers and a sister who have a lot more in common than they realize. But of course she couldn't just write about family and romance. There are complex plots, bad guys, and suspense too.
Lisa loves to hear from readers and has various places you can connect with her, although, shh, Twitter is her favorite.
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EXCERPT FROM BETRAYALS
ANOTHER BLACK CIPHER FILE
Disinformation n. Deliberate spreading of false information with intent to mislead.
August 31
Afghanistan
Something snuffled in the corner.
I curled my arm protectively around the meager bowl of whatever they’d brought me. No stinking rodent was going to touch my daily ration.
The dank smell of urine-soaked sand, feces, and human sweat filled the fetid air. A thin layer of grit and despair coated everything, including my tongue. I vowed never to set foot on a beach again.
Probably wouldn’t anyway. As I was likely to die in this godforsaken rat hole of a prison. I scooped the cooked until mush food into my mouth greedily, careful not to spill a single grain.
Hard to believe a month ago Jordan and I had been dining on spice-rubbed porterhouse and chipotle garlic mashed potatoes in D.C.
That life was long gone. The contrast between then and now was laughable.
Then I’d dabbed daintily at my mouth with a soft linen napkin. Now I lapped the bowl with my sand-coated tongue and carefully sucked on each dirt-crusted finger.
If malnutrition didn’t kill me, the germs probably would.
I could hear the woman, our chef, server, and general attendant, coming. But I wasn’t finished.
Fuuuuuccckkkkk. I screamed the expletive silently. I’d learned brutally fast that cursing in this prison, especially from a woman, was taboo.
One by one, the locks clicked open. I huddled over the tiny tin bowl, licking with short, frantic strokes, trying to eat it all before she took my food away.
My arm chains clanked as they swung together, ringing in the silence. I ignored the extreme stabs of pain in my left arm.
The woman scurried in furtively and eased the door closed.
This was a change in routine. Subtly, I shifted to a higher state of alertness. The bruises, aches, and burns from the last ‘change in routine’ still hadn’t healed. I was pretty sure the radius bone in my left forearm arm was broken.
Fortunately not the ulna and fortunately not my shooting arm. I hadn’t had a beating or torture session in a few days. They’d left me alone.
“Miss,” she whispered in Pashto.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t know how much they knew about my background and I wasn’t about to give anything away.
“Miss.” This time she whispered in Dari.
I remained silent.
“Miss.” Next it was Modern Standard Arabic. Something must have flickered in my eyes because she continued in Modern Standard. “Come. I will let you go.”
My brain whirred. It had to be a trap. Let me go and then follow me. Thinking I’d lead them to whatever they thought I had.
Common torture tactic. Slowly break down all barriers to civilized behavior until the prisoner was more animal than human. Then dangle the carrot of freedom and watch the animal lunge for it.
If I was in their shoes, that’s what I would do.
I sat quietly, waiting for her next move.
She started stripping off her burkha.
That wasn’t right. A woman showing her face, her arms, her legs was not tolerated. Especially not in front of the prisoners. Walking around without the covering meant certain death.
Maybe that was the test.
See if I’d react with compassion. Would I think of someone else before myself? I analyzed each possible reaction and action for this situation.
One. Take the burkha and take my
chances. But what about the woman?
Two. Help her put the burkha back on. And stay.
Three. Stay still and do nothing.
Inaction was always my least favorite response. And I’d been trapped in this prison for two weeks.
As she lifted the veiled hood from her face, she was crying. They’d coerced her into doing this.
She knew as well as I she’d be dead if she set foot out of this cell without the covering.
“Put the burkha back on,” I whispered in Pashto.
“They are going to kill you.” The rough wool tangled in her hair, muffling her voice.
And what do you think they’re going to do to you?
I wanted to be free, but not at the expense of this woman. I wrapped my arms over my chest, stifling a gasp as the wrist cuff banged my injured forearm. “Go back to your duties.”
“My slavery.” She spit. Kneeling beside me, she jiggled the key to open the shackles. “You must go.”
The glob of mucus lay in the middle of the sand and dirt floor. “No.”
“They killed my xawand.” She stood in the middle of the room, proud and fierce, dressed exactly like me in a grey cotton shift. “They killed my mashums.”
Her husband. Her babies. Her family.
I understood that kind of loss.
I understood the rage and the grief. I understood the unquenchable lust for revenge. I’d used the emotions on more than one occasion to recruit agents for the CIA.
Because the same had been used on me.
Excerpt from Stone Cold Heart
The first novella in a series featuring the Stone Family siblings, Jess, Connor, Riley and Jack….
Family Stone #1 Jess
In the early evening dusk, Jess Stone lay on her stomach in the twenty foot high rubble of a demolished church, underneath a black and gray city-scape tarp intended to camouflage her position. A sharp-edged chunk of debris dug into her lower rib cage, the scope of the Remington M24 cool and familiar against her face.
