“We?” he asked.
“Me and the baby.” Callie looked down at her still flat abdomen. “The doctor said to go with the flow and then laughed at me. She told me she’d always hated beets and then craved them throughout her pregnancy.” She turned toward him, a solemn expression on her face. “If this baby decides he likes something gross such as pickled pig’s feet or tripe, I’m going on record now—ain’t gonna happen.”
Risto threw back his head and laughed. Callie’s voice held a lot of disgruntlement.
“Don’t laugh. I meant it.” She tugged on his shirt until his lips were close to hers. “It will be your responsibility to talk to the baby and convince him that I refuse to eat stuff I can’t stand the sight of. Got it?” She bit lightly into his lower lip then let it slide from between her teeth.
He cradled her jaw and took control of her pouty mouth with a deep, wet kiss. Later tonight, he’d make love to her again, then hold her close all night. He had that right now. And the next morning, he’d be there to help her when she was sick. He wanted to make it clear that she wasn’t alone any longer—she had him to back her up.
The clearing of a throat forced him to halt the kiss, which had begun to turn carnal. Callie moaned as he pulled away and his erection strained against the zipper placket of his jeans.
Callie looked at him with dilated eyes. When she licked her lips, he groaned and brushed another kiss over her bruised mouth. “Sorry, I was rough.”
“Don’t be. I love when you go all He-Man on me.” She nipped his chin. “I love you.” He smiled and zeroed in on her mouth once more.
“Ahem,” Conn said even more loudly than before. “Give two single men a break, would ya?”
Risto stroked his thumb over Callie’s lips and mouthed “sorry,” then glanced over and spotted two grinning faces. “Stuff it, Conn. I’m busy here.”
“I can see that, but there are the little matters of, one, feeding that sweet thing you’re mauling, and, two, finalizing the plans to protect her from Cruz and his thugs. The bastard is probably already on his way to Osprey’s Point. The DOD traitor and his minions would have access to all your Department of Defense records and would’ve sold Cruz your permanent residence’s address.”
“Sorry, I’ve been sort of distracted lately.” Risto nuzzled the focus of his distraction. She giggled.
“Well, hell yeah, you have.” The smirk on Conn’s face drew a scowl from Risto. “So, stop kissing and cuddling your woman. Let’s eat and plan how we’re gonna take out the bastard.”
When Risto released Callie, she rested against the couch’s arm with a sigh. He stuffed an extra pillow behind her, giving her back more support. “Let’s eat here so Callie can stay warmer by the fire. I have trays for the food.”
“No need for trays. Berto and I can sit on the floor and use the cocktail table.” Conn led the way to the seating area in front of the fireplace, bringing over the reports provided by SSI.
Risto took the thick stack of papers from Conn and handed them to Callie. “Here, sweetheart, this is the most current intel from Sanctuary.” He stood. “I’ll get us all something to eat while you read them over.”
“I’ll help get the food,” Berto said.
The three men went to the kitchen. As Risto pulled out bowls and spoons, he kept an eye on Callie’s expression as she skimmed the analyses Keely had prepared. He knew when she’d reached the part about Paco and the extra back-up of the videos.
He must’ve made some sort of sound at the fleeting expression of fear which swept over her face, because Callie looked over and smiled. “I’m okay. If Rosa confirmed the video footage was destroyed, then it’s gone. And as I told you back at Conn’s house, a video can’t hurt me.” He heard her words but her expression told him she was relieved. “So, at least for now, I don’t have a vicious, but chivalrous, drug lord after me, just an angry, nearly broke, former paramilitary leader who can no longer go home because of me.”
There was distinct touch of hysteria in her voice; his little soldier wasn’t as unfazed as she pretended. He wasn’t the only one who’d heard it.
“Go to her.” Berto shooed Risto out of the kitchen. “I have this. Your woman needs you.”
He left Berto and Conn putting the meal together and swiftly went to Callie’s side, sitting on the edge of the couch, his hip nestled against her legs. He massaged her thigh, his fingers grazing the sensitive inner portion, and noted the slight change in her breathing, indicating the beginnings of her arousal. She sent him an “I’ll get you for that” look and he grinned. She wasn’t totally upset if that slight touch could distract her.
“None of this goat-roping is because of you,” he said. “It’s because of me, baby. I’m the one who took Cruz’s accounting DVD. The bastard wants me almost as much as he wants you. He realizes getting to you and hurting you would bring me into the open.”
She shot him a look of incredulity. “So, that’s the frigging plan? Lure him here with the idea he might get to me but then you parade in front of him and hope you kill him before he kills you?”
He didn’t say a word. There was nothing to say. He’d be the one to lure the fucking bastard to his doom.
She punched him on the arm. “That doesn’t make sense. Me … he wants alive, so he can use me to get back in Paco’s good graces.” Fiery anger blazed from her opalescent eyes. “You,” she poked him in the chest, “he wants dead.” She threw the report onto the cocktail table. “Dammit, Risto, it’s not acceptable to dangle your so-fine ass out there in place of mine. He’ll just shoot and kill you on sight.” Tears filled her eyes as she covered her stomach with one hand and twisted a strand of her hair with the other. “I want our baby to have his father.”
“I’m hard to kill. Plus, our plan is a tad bit more refined than me parading my ass to get shot.” Her angry snort had his lips twisting into a grim smile. “The bastard is never getting near you again. The fact he’ll be within a quarter mile of you is barely acceptable. So, don’t even think about offering to be live bait.”
She muttered, “Fucking, alpha-macho-bloody male.”
Approaching the couch, Conn laughed. “She’s got you pegged.”
“Shut the fuck up, Conn.” Risto snarled the words at his soon-to-be former friend.
Berto brought a tray for Callie and Risto and set it on the cocktail table, then went back for his and Conn’s. Risto picked up a bowl and handed it and a spoon to her. “Eat.”
Callie took the spoon and balanced the bowl on her lap. After taking a couple of bites and chewing thoroughly, she put the spoon in the bowl. “So … what’s the plan?” Her eyes glittered with silver fire. “Have you slink around your island until one of his men kills you? If the man hired a decent sniper, he could make the kill shot from any high point in Osprey’s Point. Hell, I could make that shot. All your high-tech surveillance equipment isn’t worth the cost of parts if they have a merc sniper who’s halfway decent.”
Callie was crying. The sound made his heart hurt. “Fuck, baby.” He stood, took her bowl from her unresisting hands and put it on the cocktail table, then lifted her into his arms. Sitting down, he cradled her across his lap and rocked her. “Please stop crying. You’ll make yourself sick again.”
“Shut up.” She sniffed loudly, wiping her wet cheeks on his turtleneck. “I have the right to cry. You wouldn’t have a target on your forehead if it weren’t for Cruz’s hard-on for me.”
“Callie,” Conn leaned forward in the chair he’d pulled to the cocktail table, his arms braced on his knees. “Look at me, sweet cheeks.”
Risto growled. “She’s not your sweet anything, Redmond. And don’t even talk about her ass.”
Callie snickered, then sniffled against his neck. “I like it when he calls me that. He sounds like a forties private eye talking to the ditzy blonde in trouble, but who is really the deadly femme fatale.” She turned her head so she could see the two men sitting in the chairs across from the couch. “What did you want to tell
me, Conn?”
She petted Risto’s chest and he released some of the tension which had stiffened his body when she’d begun to cry. He didn’t want her afraid for him, but he refused to allow her to place herself in danger. What kind of man would he be if he didn’t protect her—and his unborn child—from scum such as Cruz?
“We’ll be taking out the bad guys in Osprey’s Point. Our plan keeps Cruz and his men from even leaving shore. Berto and I will have Risto’s back. Plus Keely’s twin brothers will be here. They’re on their way. Can you trust the four of us to protect your man, little momma?”
Callie rubbed her fingers over her face, wiping away the wetness. Risto hugged her closer into his body. She sighed and rested her head back against his shoulder. “Yeah, Loren and Paul are good. However, I’ll point out, I shoot better than both of them and they’ll tell you the same.”
Berto shot a wary look at Risto. “Our plan could use the addition of a sniper.”
Risto glared at Conn’s right-hand man. “No fucking way … the twins are SEALs, one of them can be the sniper.”
“Listen up, Marine, and use your head.” Callie petted his chest. “Berto thinks I can do it and that’s good enough for me.”
Conn nodded. “Berto does have a good point. The only weakness I saw in the plan was not having someone high up to feed us intel and cover us with precision shooting. Callie would be far out of harm’s way, at least a thousand meters and maybe more depending on the rifle and her skill. She could cover Osprey Point’s whole downtown area with the perfect sniping position.”
Risto took her hand in his and kissed the tips of her fingers. His gaze fixed on her. She met his eyes, unflinchingly. His brain refused to engage, pure emotion drove his reaction. “I don’t want you anywhere near the battle zone. You’ll be locked down here, safe on my island, where nothing but a nuke from China might reach you.”
“So, you’re assuming Cruz won’t ever make it to the island before you spring your trap? Shit happens, Marine. What if they have rocket launchers? I’d be a sitting duck in this glass house.” Callie waved a hand toward the expanse of glass. She turned toward the others. “I’m safer in Osprey’s Point with you all, so you might as well use me. Tell me your plan.”
“Callie!” Even he heard the fear in his voice.
She cupped his face with her hands. The look in her eyes was fierce, determined and filled with fear for him. “Risto, I love you. But right now, you’re being a recalcitrant ass. I’m not a helpless female who needs to be placed on a shelf for safe-keeping. We’ve had this discussion.” She shook his head for emphasis. “I know my limitations. Getting out of Colombia on my own was not in my skill set. Fighting hand-to-hand in a running street battle in Osprey’s Point isn’t either. But I am an expert sniper. I’ve proven I can take out a live target. I can make a difference and save lives—your life.”
“Callie … sweetheart…”
She covered his mouth with her fingers. “Shut up, Marine.” Then she snorted, one of those elegant, disdainful sniffs which made him harder than titanium steel in a nanosecond. “You insult me—and your friends—if you think any of us would endanger the baby I’m carrying. And, since I’m essential to the live birth of our baby, that means, ipso facto, the danger to my person would also be factored into my decision.”
Conn choked back a laugh. Berto coughed. Risto swore in Finnish and several other languages before staring the other two men into silence. He pulled away from her hands and took her lips in a rough, rapacious and all too brief kiss. “We’ll discuss who’s the boss in this family later—in private.”
“Sweetie, we already discussed that—last night. In the bedroom, you’re the boss. Outside, however, we’re a team. I expect to be treated as the intelligent equal partner I am.”
“Fuck, Risto. You’re the boss in the bedroom? Way to go, man.” Conn gave him a thumbs-up. He shot a naughty wink at Callie who giggled. Conn really needed to stop flirting with his woman or Risto would be happy to remove the man’s favorite dangly parts.
Conn continued to bury himself by adding, “You have to admit, she’s smart and can think on her feet. She doesn’t panic. Plus, we really could use her shooting skills. The Walsh twins would be of better help on the ground. Ren told me she out shot him and Price Teague and is Keely’s equal. I’m betting she can make a fifteen-hundred-meter shot with that fricking Lapua you have in your armory, even in a high wind with snow.”
“Yes, I can. I shot Keely’s Lapua every day I was at Sanctuary. It’s sweet.” Callie petted his chest as if soothing a rabid animal. “Even if I don’t make a kill shot at that distance, I can still do a lot of damage to the enemy at that caliber. My shooting might tip the psychological advantage to our favor. Sniper kills, according to my dad, demoralize invading troops.”
“Fuck, just fuck.” Risto wiped a hand over his face. He was out-numbered and worst of all—they were right. He just didn’t like it. If it had been anyone but his Callie, he would have agreed from the get-go. He heaved a sigh. “You’re all correct. I just … Callie…” He cuddled her closer and gently kissed the lips he’d bruised earlier. “I just found you. I can’t…”
“I know. I know.” She nuzzled his neck and petted him. He sighed and let her comfort him with her touch. “I feel the same way about you risking yourself, Marine. I want to make sure we have years and years together. This is my way of making sure that will happen.”
He had to trust her. She’d handled everything thrown at her since he met her in Cartagena. She’d proven that she was smart and knew her limitations. If she needed help, she’d let him or the others know. Plus, he’d make sure one of the Walsh twins backed her up as a spotter. Two sets of eyes at high ground were better than one. Plus, the spotter could be armed as a back-up sniper.
“Tell her the plan.” Risto held her as close to his body as he could. Her stomach growled loudly. His lips quirked. “Our child needs to be fed and so does his mama.” He reached over and retrieved the bowl he’d set aside. “Eat.”
She took the bowl from him and began to eat. She paused, a spoonful of stew halfway to her mouth, and spoke before Conn could begin. “It’s a good thing I’m not showing yet since I have better accuracy lying on my stomach using the bipod.”
Risto groaned. Okay, maybe he had given in too soon. This whole thing had cluster fuck written all over it. “Callie, maybe…”
“Risto, I’ll handle it. I can do this. Anyone tries to kill my man is dead meat.” She took her next bite and chewed the beef as if it were Cruz.
“Fine. But you’ll be at the maximum range for the Lapua. Fifteen hundred meters. And the position will be elevated and protected so they can’t get to you easily. Plus, and this is non-negotiable, you’ll have one of the Walsh twins as a spotter and back-up sniper. Got it?” He swept all of them with an evil eye.
“Sure, old buddy, sounds like a plan to me.” Conn smirked. Yeah, the man wanted to sing soprano.
“Sí, Risto.”
“Yes.” Callie hugged him, endangering her bowl of stew, then kissed the edge of his clenched jaw. “But it can be less than fifteen hundred if I’m elevated. From what I saw last night when we arrived, I’m not sure the whole downtown of Osprey’s Point is much more than twelve hundred meters in length.”
He shook his head and let out a disgusted breath. “I’ve got to be nuts to even consider this.” Absently, he massaged Callie’s shoulders, finding the motion comforting.
“You’re not nuts,” Callie rubbed her cheek against his jaw line, “just using all the resources at hand. You’d trust me to protect the baby if you were on a mission, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes. Absolutely.” But he planned to have her safely at Sanctuary when he was on extended missions after the baby arrived. He was sure Ren would conspire with him to give Callie assignments during those times.
“Then trust me to protect the baby’s father.”
“Fine, but if you even get frost bit, I’ll tie you to the bed and nev
er let you out of my sight again.”
“Risto, you were going to do that anyway.” She poked him in the chest with the hand holding her spoon.
Conn and Berto roared with laughter. Risto shot them a nasty glance. “Just wait until you get women of your own. You’ll know exactly how I feel and I’ll be happy to remind you of this moment.”
“Can’t wait, old buddy. But I doubt I’ll ever find a woman to match Callie.” He winked at her. “You sure you don’t have any sisters, sweet cheeks?”
“Sorry, none.”
At Conn’s continued flirtation with Callie, Risto muttered several pithy swear words in Finnish. He received an elbow in his ribs. “What was that for?”
“I don’t know what you said,” she massaged the area she’d elbowed, “but I’m sure it wasn’t complimentary.”
“Hell, I can’t even get away with swearing at my former friend’s suggestive behavior toward my fiancée in my own house.”
“Nope. Plus, it’s our house, you said so, and Conn and Berto are guests. So be nice.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Then he muttered against her ear, “Did you know that sassy mothers-to-be get spanked?”
She grinned. “Promises, promises. Now, dish on the plan.” Looking toward the kitchen, she added, “Didn’t we buy bananas? All of a sudden, I’m craving a banana.” She stared him in the eye and licked her lips. “A nice big one.”
When Conn hooted with laughter once more, Risto swore. “You are a dead man, Redmond.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Late Wednesday Evening, Big Earl’s in Osprey’s Point.
Big Earl had agreed to host the final planning meeting. Since the wind and snow had died down, Callie, Risto, Conn and Berto boated to the mainland rather than use the helicopter. While in town, they’d scout the positions Risto wanted to use in the street battle with Cruz and his hired army. Callie had insisted on coming along. After all, she had to find her sniper’s nest from which to shoot. No sniper worth his or her salt allowed someone else to scout out their sniping post.
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