by Mayer, Dale
Still, she’d done everything right. She’d survived. That was more than most and all anyone could ask of her.
She reached up her arms. He tugged her forward and she hugged him close. “Thanks for being you,” she whispered.
He was charmed. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone else like her. Well maybe…but they all belonged to his SEAL team. Not that the women would agree with the term “belong.” They were all strong independent women. And so was this one. But she was in trouble, and there was something about that that brought out the protective instincts in all men. If it had been Shadow who had found her, would she have connected the same to him? No, because Shadow wouldn’t have allowed the connection. He had someone so damn special in his life already – two someones as his partner cared for her younger brother as well. Shadow was a contented man. So what if it had been Evan? Would any single man have managed that same connection?
She reached up and kissed his cheek, then snuggled close to his chest. “I’m so damn cold.”
“Sorry.” He rubbed her back and tried to infuse her body with warmth. He didn’t know what it was going to take, but a hot bath and layers and layers of blankets might help. The best would be a hot and heavy lovemaking session as that would heat her from the inside out. Then the bath and bed. Plus food in there somewhere. She couldn’t keep this up.
“I’m fine,” she whispered. “Stop worrying.”
“You’re not fine,” he fussed.
“You’re fussing.”
“I am not,” he said horrified. “I wouldn’t.”
“You are.” She snickered. “But thank you.”
In disgust he tried to pull back from her arms, but she wouldn’t let him, clinging like a limpet and laughing. “I mean the thank you part. Seems like a long time since anyone gave a damn.”
“That’s not good. Everyone needs friends – of both sexes.”
“I agree.” She smiled. “My old boyfriends didn’t. They hated the idea of us doing things without them, so over time the friends all fell away until I learned that it was the boyfriends I should be getting rid of, not the girlfriends.”
“Right.” He just didn’t get that. Was everyone so insecure that they couldn’t stand to let the other person have friends independent of the relationship? Naturally friends of one became friends of both over time but to not let the other partner develop a life out of the relationship—that wasn’t healthy.
He rubbed her back gently, frowning again as his hands slipped over her sharp shoulder blades.
“Stop. I’m fine. I’m getting better,” she scolded him for worrying so much.
“No, you’re not. You’re going from trouble to trouble. It’s going to get you killed.”
“And so what am I supposed to do?” She leaned back and challenged him with a look. “I will end up going back to California at one point, but running away from here isn’t a great answer.”
“It’s not running away if you don’t enjoy what you find at one location or another.” He dropped his chin onto her head. “It’s all about perspective.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into the rat race at home again, and I’d feel like I had to make a living. This pace,” she waved her hand around the neighborhood, “I like it. There is so much less stress. That’s what was killing me before.”
“So find something less stressful to do.”
“And you know what rent costs, the utilities back in civilization? Here I pay less than five hundred a month including everything and can make money to bank at the end of the day working at a place like Boomer’s.”
“If Boomer is still alive and can rebuild the diner – that’s one thing, but what if he can’t?”
Her shoulders sagged. “I’ve been trying to ignore that possibility.”
“It’s burned to the ground. Unless he wants to start all over again.”
She groaned. “I just wish I could go to a small place out of town. Find a calm restful place to live and do my old job online instead.
“So why can’t you?”
“I need the place and the money to spot me a few months until money is rolling in again,” she said seriously. “And no, I won’t be asking my father for that stake.”
He nodded. “Of course not. You’re too independent for that.”
“Maybe, but just because it’s the ideal lifestyle for me doesn’t make it a doable one.”
“Everything in life is doable. At least that’s what my wife used to say.”
“And she was right.” She grinned up at him.
He couldn’t help himself – that mouth was just asking for it. He leaned over and kissed her.
He heard an odd sound off to the left. Lifting his head, he studied the houses surrounding them but there was nothing visible. He knew the men had scattered and were doing a full on sweep, but his instincts were flaring. They were being watched. He didn’t know how or where, but someone was keeping an eye on them.
With a gentle push, he shoved her deeper into the truck. Then closed the door and walked around on the other side. He wasn’t going to stay here if that was the case. He opened the driver’s door and heard the pop.
Something plucked at his shirt and pierced his shoulder. Swearing softly, he threw himself into the front of the truck. And slammed the door.
“What’s wrong?” Bree cried. “You just dove in.”
She reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder…and saw the blood. And screamed.
Chapter 17
“Oh my God, you’re bleeding. What happened?”
“I’ve been shot.”
She gasped and spun around searching the area for his shooter. A second shot shattered the glass of the passenger door. Glass showered over the two of them. She dropped to the footwell, a scream cut off in her throat. She searched his face in the dark cab. “Are you badly hurt?”
“No,” Markus whispered. “I’m fine.”
“Well, you’re not fine,” she countered, “if you’ve been shot.”
He leaned over and turned on the truck engine.
“Let me drive,” she snapped.
“I’m not that badly hurt.” The words were barely out of his mouth when the rear windshield exploded. She screamed and ducked lower.
“Stay down,” he ordered as he reversed the truck at high speed then he shifted and jumped the truck forward. Several more bullets hit the side panel as he ripped out of the parking lot and onto the road. He raced down the main street at full speed. He didn’t let up until they were miles away. She stared at him as he reacted in such a cool and controlled manner.
Until she saw the blood dripping down his arm. “We have to get you to a doctor.”
“Is there one here?”
“There are a couple of medical clinics, likely not open at this hour, but we’re well over an hour to the nearest hospital.”
He tried to pull his phone out of his pocket, but she snatched it out of his hand. And clicked on his contacts. Mason was at the top of the list. She hit dial without giving him a chance to argue.
“Markus?” asked a voice on the other end. “You okay, we heard shots.”
“No,” she snapped. “He’s been shot. It’s Bree, the woman he rescued twice. There was a sniper in the top floor of the house across from mine.”
“Is he badly hurt?” Mason’s voice darkened with temper.
Good, she was pissed too. “No, not enough that he will let me drive but too much to take the phone back from me,” she growled. “I don’t know if there’s a doctor available in town at this hour, but he’s bleeding.”
“I’m fine,” roared Markus from beside her.
She gasped. “You are not fine. You’re bleeding all over the truck.”
“The truck will wash.”
“And what about your butt then?”
“What?” he asked in confusion.
“You’re sitting on glass. Hell, I’m sitting on glass.”
“Then you need to see a doctor,” he snapped. “Your skin
is paper thin. You’re probably bleeding to death right now.”
“Nope. No more doctors for me.”
“Then I’m taking you to the hospital instead.”
“Don’t bother, I won’t go,” she said cheerfully. “Besides, people die in those places, didn’t you know that?”
“If you’re cut up with glass we have to get you checked over,” Markus argued. “You’re the one that’s sick, we can’t let anything more happen or you’ll never recover.
“Ha.” She took another look outside, but she didn’t know where they were. “Mason, can you hear him?”
“I hear him.” There was an oddly humorous note in his voice.
“Okay, I’ll get checked out, Mason, but only if Markus agrees to get fixed up too.”
“I’m fine,” Markus snapped.
“Then so am I.” She glared at him.
God, this was a ridiculous conversation. And she felt like an idiot but wasn’t going to back down. He was too stubborn for his own good.
“We see you. Markus, pull over.”
Glaring at her, Markus pulled onto the shoulder of the road. “Now you’re in for it,” he snapped.
“What?” She gasped. “What did I do?”
Two other vehicles ripped up beside them. Instantly they were swarmed by his men, most she recognized by now. She swallowed hard. Regardless of the glass thrown across the seat, she shifted closer and put up her hands.
Markus snickered.
She glared at him. “What? They are freakin’ scary,” she exclaimed, but she lowered her hands and deepened her glare. “Are you laughing at me?” she snapped.
“No, never.” But he couldn’t hold his chuckles back as the men surrounded them.
“Markus is faint from the loss of blood. Weak. He needs to go the doctor,” she said earnestly to the men. “He almost passed out when he got shot,” she lied blithely.
Markus’s laughter died and it was his turn to glare at her.
“He’s too injured to be on active duty,” she said sweetly, adding, “I’m sure he can’t even walk. Maybe someone stronger than him should carry him.” She batted her eyelashes as Markus steamed at her. She heard laughter from the others.
“You have a mean streak,” Markus announced.
“And you love it,” she retorted. “Like I’m going to let you steamroll me.”
She crossed her arms and gave him a nod as if to underscore her position.
He snorted. “As if. You might be small but you’re lethal.”
“Thank you.”
And that’s when she noticed Swede staring into the truck, his gaze going from one to the other.
And grinning.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You aren’t laughing at Markus’s misfortune to have been shot, are you?”
When his grin didn’t disappear fast enough, she gasped and said in a heartfelt voice, “He was trying to save me. Markus is all heart. A bleeding heart, actually.” She glared at Markus who rolled his eyes at her. “But he’s really a nice man. Once you get past that gruff exterior. Then you have to give allowances to guardian angels. They do require an extra dose of patience on account of being so special.”
“Oh for crying out loud,” Markus roared, throwing up his hands.
“Oh don’t you dare get mad at me,” she cried. “If anyone should be angry it’s me. If you hadn’t been kissing me, you’d never have been shot,” she declared.
Silence. Markus’s glare couldn’t get any more lethal.
“So you’re angry because he kissed you,” Swede hazarded a guess but that damn smirk of his was still in view.
“Of course I’m not angry he kissed me,” she said, affronted. “Poor Markus. How could you make him feel bad about that?” She reached out and snatched up Markus’s hand and held it close to her chest. “Why would you say that?”
Swede slowly shook his head, like a confused bull. “No idea. Excuse me for misunderstanding.”
“Apologize to Markus. It’s him you insulted.”
“I did?” Swede looked confused. “Markus?”
“Don’t worry about it. I doubt any of us have a clue.”
Bree squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to put on a brave face. If these men are the friends you say they are, they won’t have a problem apologizing,” she assured him.
He’d had about enough of this. “Bree, they are my friends. Therefore they don’t need to apologize and in this case there isn’t a man standing who’d have a clue what he’d be apologizing for.”
He watched confusion settle on her face as she glanced from one to the other and saw the grinning faces. “Oh,” she said in a small voice. “Sorry. I just didn’t want them to upset you. I know how sensitive you are.”
*
She maddened Markus. She fascinated him. But she frustrated him to no end first and foremost.
They’d transferred to a new truck, Bree at his side in the front while Markus sat half out of the driver’s side as Mason came around to check his wound. His actions were competent, steady, but the look on his face – priceless.
Markus groaned silently.
“You’re right there,” Swede said, his voice somber, his face earnest. “Markus is a sensitive soul.”
“He is.” She patted Markus’s hand. A harsh cry escaped his mouth before it was cut off. “Don’t hurt him!” she cried out, leaning over to take a look. Markus grabbed her and tucked her up close so she couldn’t push Mason away. “He’s not hurting me, Bree. He’s helping me.”
He studied her face for a long moment then looked over at Mason, who was more concerned with his wound than with Bree. Mason poked and pressed gently. Markus, for all his best effort, struggled to keep back his wince. But she noticed it anyway. She scooched closer again, stroking his arm. “It’s okay, Markus. You’re not badly hurt. You’ll be fine.”
He didn’t have a clue what to say. That he was completely surrounded by grinning idiots didn’t help. But that she cared enough to try and make him feel better… She was an innocent in the world. No, his mind immediately rejected that concept. It wasn’t that she was an innocent. She’d seen a lot of the negative of life. But she still managed to keep a sunny disposition and a life will get better attitude. That was naïve but it was also refreshing. He dealt in treachery and darkness, assholes and their shitty actions. He didn’t want her touched by that.
And yet, she was aware of what went on. Had lived it and wanted a simpler life. He wasn’t sure that gave him any wiggle room to be a part of her life. His world was dark and dirty and affected all areas – he tried to keep them out of his personal life but there was always some bleed through. Then who was he kidding. She might not want anything to do with him.
Particularly when she realized he lived on base in Coronado. That was hardly small-town laid back country life.
Although for the right woman, he might be willing to move.
The question here was – was she the right woman?
Chapter 18
Bree had always hated to see anyone hurt – physically or emotionally. She’d been on the receiving end more times than she liked herself, so she was very sensitive to what others were going through. She got that Markus was big and macho and wouldn’t like anyone to see him hurting, but she’d seen several big hulking men cry in the beds beside her when going through chemo treatments. They might be able to hold out longer, but there were some things that just everyone broke down over. She knew Markus had cried after losing his wife.
And that he wouldn’t want anyone to know it or to mention it. But he loved deeply, this man. And he lost hard. He was also not as comfortable as he’d like everyone to think he was around women. Sure, he’d been in a long-term relationship, but she doubted he’d been with many women since. And likely never longer than a few weeks. That would push his buttons. Anything longer than a few dates became a relationship and could bring back painful memories.
“Are you a doctor, Mason?” she asked.
He shook his he
ad. “No. None of us are but we’re all decent medics.”
“Because you felt responsible.”
Mason slowly raised his head from the wound he was cleaning and studied her face. “Very perceptive.”
“What?” Markus growled at him. “Why the hell would you feel responsible?”
“Doesn’t matter why. You’re part of my team. If I could have saved you I would have.”
“Not me,” joked another huge man from behind her. “I spent too many months in the hospital, thanks. I’d have thrown you under the bus.”
Markus chuckled. “Hell, Cooper, you probably would.”
“Nah, he wouldn’t,” Bree whispered. “He’s worried you’re hurt worse and might have to go through something like he did.”
There was an odd silence then Cooper said, “Are you psychic or something?”
She laughed. “Wouldn’t that be fun? But no, I’m not. I just understand people. Especially when it comes to people’s relationship to injuries, death, and of course the whole process of dying.”
“A grief counselor?” Swede, standing behind Mason, asked. “You don’t look it.”
“That’s because I’m not,” she said, exasperated. “I’m an investment advisor, but I have way too much experience with death and that fine edge of dying.”
Mason looked up over at her. “You almost died?”
She nodded. “And stayed on the precipice for a long time. Life is a gift but not one most people appreciate.”
“So true,” a new voice said from behind her.
She studied their faces. “Do you all work with him?”
