Handcuffed by Her Hero

by Angel Payne

  She assumed Sage and Garrett’s living room was still in here somewhere. Yards and yards of dark gold tulle were strewn everywhere. Half a dozen gold urns, at least five feet high each, stood in a sentry line in front of the fireplace. More tulle spilled from them. Hanging on a portable clothing rack near them were at least ten formal dresses in different styles, all in royal purple. On the lawn outside, overlooking the complex’s lake and swimming dock, there was a natural wood arch half-decorated in flowing bows of the same color.

  “What the hell?” Zeke finally stammered. “You two having a party?”

  Every female instinct in Rayna’s body shouted the correct answer to that, but this wasn’t her moment to spill. She grinned at Sage in expectant glee. The little blond danced over to her fiancé and dipped her head against his chest, openly imploring him to drop the bomb on Z.

  “Dumb ass,” Garrett muttered. “We’re having a wedding.”

  Zeke’s face lit up with a grin. “Serious? Now?”

  “Tomorrow,” Sage supplied. “Late morning, before the snow gets here. Surprise!” After Rayna crossed to her and they exchanged a squealing hug, she added, “Now you know why we needed you two to get back here!”

  “Why?”

  Rayna blurted it at the same time as Z. They shared a small chuckle because of it. And damn, it felt nice. Garrett and Sage swiftly followed with bigger laughs.

  “You really are a dork sometimes.” Garrett shook his head at his friend. He followed by clapping a hand to Z’s shoulder. “Hayes, you’re my best friend. You’ve saved my ass more times than I can count. So will you protect it one more time by being my best man and making sure I don’t fuck this thing up?”

  Z’s face widened with a soft smile. “Fuck, yeah. I’d be honored.” His voice was hoarse as he pulled Garrett into a fierce hug.

  Sage approached Rayna with a trio of playful glides. “And Sergeant Chestain, you’re my best friend. So—”

  “I’d love to!” Her voice cracked with happy tears as she and Sage gripped each other tight.

  Zeke erupted with a growl while fingering the fresh bandage she’d applied to his back this morning. “All right, all right, now that we’ve had the waterworks, let’s get to the fun.” He rubbed his hands together. “Grab some beers, dude, and let’s go outside to plot the bachelor party.”

  “No,” Sage interjected. She poked his chest with one hand and Garrett’s with the other. “As soon as the other guys get here, you’re going to go pick up Z’s dress blues then take both sets to the dry cleaners. Make sure you expedite the cleaning. After that, you’re picking out the cake and the guest book, going to the printer for the programs, helping Garrett with the playlist for the DJ, setting up the canopy over the patio—”

  They all laughed when Garrett snatched Sage by the wrist, grabbed the list she’d been reading, and gave her bottom a fast but hard smack.

  “Hey! I wasn’t done!”

  “Yeah, you were.” Garrett kissed her hard, his eyes turning to bright blue flames with possession.

  “But—ow!” She squirmed as he dug a deep pinch into one of her ass cheeks. Beneath her breath, she seethed, “You know that hurts after this morning.”

  Garrett gloated. “Uh-huh.”

  Rayna, buoyed by the joyful atmosphere, couldn’t help rocking on her heels and murmuring in a sing-song, “Topping from the bottom…never a good idea.”

  Sage’s stunned stare got to her first. Garrett’s was a half second behind. In tandem, they swung their looks to Zeke. Rayna twisted her lips to stifle a chuckle. She’d call him a deer in the headlights but the analogy was all wrong for Z. By the time she decided on moose in the headlights, he’d plastered on a recovery grin, directing it right at Sage.

  “Okay, back to the important shit. You’re not the least bit interested in planning the bachelorette party, Sergeant Weston?”

  At that, Sage’s transformed. Her friend tossed Garrett a quiet, knowing look before responding. “Not going to be one, Z.” She lifted a hand to her stomach. “Mommies have to be careful about how they define ‘party,’ you know.”

  Rayna was certain her gape was similar to Zeke’s. “Oh my God…Sage!” She hugged her friend again. “Really?”

  Zeke repeated his own embrace with Garrett. “You humping bunny bastard.”

  Garrett chuckled. “Yeah, yeah; okay. But now you know why we’re rushing this thing.” He gathered Sage close and kissed her forehead tenderly. “My family needs to be protected…just in case the bad guys win on this mission.”

  “Shut your hole.” Zeke whacked his shoulder. “The bad guys are going to eat our shit for breakfast. Lunch and dinner, too.”

  As if cued into action by those words, there was a testosterone-filled din at the condo’s front door. Seconds later, even the tulle, the urns, and the rack of dresses couldn’t drown the potent masculinity that dominated the air. Rayna felt her chest fill with quiet pride as Z greeted his men. As usual, Tait and Kell were practically attached at the hip; it made sense since they were the sniper team of the unit. Z gave an especially tight hug to Rhett Lange, which made sense considering the guy’s technical prowess had saved Z’s life—and probably her own. Next down the line was Rebel Stafford, who more than lived up to his name with his sinful black stare and double tattooed sleeves. Finally Zeke got to Ethan Archer, who’d been trying to blend into the wall. Not likely, considering the man often passed for a model with his chiseled features and stunning blue eyes.

  She stepped close to Sage. “Are they all going to be in the wedding?”

  Her friend giggled. “Only Zeke. They just wanted to be here when you and Z got back. And yeah, they’ll likely coerce Garrett into some kind of a night out as his last hurrah of freedom.”

  Rayna smiled, though her eyes didn’t leave Zeke. She didn’t get to watch him very often without him knowing about it. The way he appreciated each of his men, focusing intently when they spoke to him…no wonder they’d follow him into the bowels of hell if he asked.

  No wonder she’d fall to her knees again for him in an instant.

  “I think it’s just what he needed,” she murmured to Sage before releasing a long sigh. “I’m just so glad my brothers aren’t on their heels.”

  Her friend looked down fast and toed the carpet. “Uh, yeah. About that…”

  Rayna wheeled on her. “Sage!”

  The woman shot her bridal-manicured hands into the air. “They’ve been calling every half hour! What was I supposed to say?”

  Before Rayna could pound her friend with another word of castigation, more wild male energy burst through the door. She inhaled hard and braced herself. The seven warriors watched their legion double as her brothers poured into the room.

  Arah got to her first. “Thank fuck,” he muttered, yanking her off her feet in a crushing hug. The others piled on top of him, gripping her from four different directions to make sure she was all right. They were all there—minus one.

  “Hey,” she muttered after shying away from Jenner and his fish stink, “Where’s Trevor?”

  Her brothers shared a significant smile. They peeled back so she got a clear look across the room.

  Shit.

  Trev was in the kitchen facing off against Zeke.

  She smacked Jenner and Arah at the same time. “Are you freaking insane? I’m sure Sage told you they’re planning a wedding here, assholes.” She pushed them back so she could start stalking across the living room at her brother and her—

  Damn. What did she call Zeke now?

  It didn’t matter. If Trevor laid one hand on Z and screwed up these memories for Sage and Garrett, she swore he was getting deleted off her phone, locked out of her house, and blacklisted from—

  She stopped in her tracks. She was too stunned to move. She blinked hard. Then again.

  Sure enough, Trevor hauled Zeke into a huge hug.

  There was too much chaos in the room for her to catch everything Trev said, though she caught the more emphatic snipp
ets, such as “saved her goddamn life” and “we all owe you, man,” and something about keeping Z in a lifetime stock of his beer choice.

  Rayna shook her head, so tempted to indulge a full laugh. But if that happened, she knew the tears would come next. Fate had a crappy sense of humor sometimes. The very day Z earned Trevor’s confidence was the day he didn’t need it anymore.

  She turned back toward her other brothers, who were still bunched together and smirking like a home transformation team getting ready to spring the Big Reveal on her. “What the hell are you mouth breathers up to now?”

  Dallas flashed his sideways grin, putting her senses on higher alert. “If we said we have a bigger surprise, would you believe us?”

  She folded her arms. “Define ‘surprise.’ You guys have used that term for everything from trying to pierce my ears yourselves to inviting yourself along on prom night.”

  Dallas scowled. “Prom night was fun.”

  “Both junior and senior year?”

  It was the retort that pushed at Rayna’s lips, only she got beaten out on uttering it by a saucy, slight-accented voice from somewhere behind Arah. A woman’s voice.

  She gasped. It wasn’t just any woman.

  “Oh, shit!”

  She shoved her brothers from the front while they got jostled apart from the back. When a distinct pair of dark indigo eyes came into view, topping an infectious smile that was surrounded by a luxurious forest of dark brown hair, she let out a scream worthy of a fifteen year-old. Ava did the exact same. They dove into each other’s arms and shrieked some more.

  That lasted for all of ten seconds.

  Their cries were turned into stunned yelps as they were yanked apart with militaristic force. The qualifier was spot on, since the force was Ethan Archer. He body-slammed Ava until she tumbled back onto the couch. Ethan followed her trajectory, though the mound of tulle into which they fell turned everything into the consistency of a water slide. The two of them disappeared onto the floor and under the fabric as all seven of her brothers and Zeke looked on with a smorgasbord of stunned laughter.

  “Nice work, Archer!” Z called. “You got her!”

  Rayna didn’t bother shooting him a glare. “Ava?” she yelled. She paddled through the fabric, instantly worried when she didn’t feel her cousin fishing from the other direction. “Ava, are you—” She froze after lifting a wad of the gold pile to discover where her cousin and the soldier had landed. “Oh my!”

  Ava had landed on her back. Ethan wound up pretty much on top of her. Though he braced himself on both elbows, their noses and mouths practically touched. They were both breathing hard, and looked like they’d enjoy nothing better than getting sealed back inside their golden cocoon.

  A sliver of envy twinged at her. Twenty-four hours ago, she was sure she gazed at Z a lot like that.

  She compensated for the pain with sardonicism. “Sergeant Ethan Archer, may I introduce Ms. Ava Chestain?”

  Ethan’s black lashes lowered as he took in all of her face. “Ava,” he echoed. “That’s really pret—” He huffed an interruption. “Wait. Chestain?”

  Trevor scooted closer. “She’s our cousin, man.”

  When Ethan snapped his gaze back to her, Ava beamed her gorgeous smile again. She got a hand up in a fast wave. “That’s me. Cousin Ava.”

  Ethan glowered. And…blushed? “I thought you were a terrorist.”

  Ava bit her lip. Her hand fell to the bulge of Ethan’s bicep. “Not a terrorist.” She practically whispered it.

  “No. Definitely not.” Ethan’s answer was just as intimate.

  “You two going to get a room?” Trevor interjected.

  “Just not the guest room.” Zeke added it with a smirk in his tone and on his lips—while his eyes latched again to Rayna. He was back to staring with that golden fire that made her long for nobody and nothing but him. Half of her yearned to toss the tulle back on top of her cousin, grab his hand, and head straight for the spare room he’d mentioned. The other half was tempted to heave the entire ball at him before strangling him with it.

  In the end, she decided on door number three. The frustration, fury, and helpless angst exit.

  With a heave, she dumped the tulle mound back across the couch. With another thrust, she got back to her feet and dashed out the slider. Somehow, she got out a believable excuse about needing to get some fresh air. The pretext seemed to stick with everyone, even Trevor.

  Everyone except Zeke. Of course.

  He caught up to her as she hit the packed dirt path that ran around the lake. “Bird? You okay?”

  She didn’t break her pace. “Stop that.”

  “What?”

  “You know what!” Everything darkened as they clanged through a gate in order to leave the condo complex and enter the woods. “You don’t get to call me that anymore. You don’t get to call me anything anymore, except my damn name.”

  “But I’ve been calling you that for months. Why—”

  “Because nothing’s the same.” She flung the words like whip cracks as she halted and turned on him. “Nothing will be the same.”

  Damn it. Fresh air, her ass. The wind soughed through the trees and lifted his thick hair from his rugged face—and goaded the edges of her self-control. She had to purposefully drag in air in order to keep speaking. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “but you don’t get the Friend Zone back, Z.”

  The words clearly tore into him—and her, too. Sudden and stinging as a fall into ice, the tears came and fell. Her words fell out on ragged chokes. “You don’t get to call me ‘bird’ without me wanting to fall to your feet. You don’t get to call me ‘honey’ without me craving to give you my wrists. You don’t even get to laugh at the damn radio without me wishing your lips were against my ear as you do.” She whirled, unable to keep looking at the tormented crevices that formed around his eyes, at the corners of his full lips. “And you don’t get to keep sneaking those looks at me!”

  She heard him take a step. “What’re you—”

  “Stop! You know exactly what I’m talking about! Those—those stares. The ones you level when you don’t think I’m watching. The ones you steal at me when you don’t think your soul’s listening, either. But goddamnit, Zeke, it’s listening, all right. I know it because I have to stare back, and I have to endure looking all the way down inside you again. And when I do, I hate you even more, because it’s so golden and—and—giving—and breathtaking—and the only one who doesn’t see any of that is you!”

  At some point, she wheeled back toward him. He didn’t try to get any closer and actually reminded her of one of the trees that surrounded them, rooted in place but rocking in the wind. “I never wanted to hurt you, Rayna.” His voice sounded like shredded bark. “Goddamnit. I’m trying like hell not to hurt you.”

  She swayed now, too. “I know.”

  “When I get back in a few months, this will all be better.”

  “Bullshit.” She shot him a bitter laugh. “Sir.”

  “Z!” Garrett’s bellow shot through the woods. “Dude, you out here? Let’s get started on this list, man!”

  After a long second, Z called, “Yeah. Give me five, would ya?”

  Garrett didn’t respond. The silence spoke his friend’s impatience loud enough. Rayna kicked the ground, making messy divots of mud and leaves. She only stopped when Zeke threaded the ends of his fingers through the tips of hers and squeezed. She clenched every muscle in her body to avoid tugging herself into him, begging him to reconsider, telling him they could take this a day at a time, that this was worth trying for…worth fighting for.

  “You going to be okay?” he finally whispered.

  She forced in a lungful of the icy air. Gave him a shaky nod. “I’ll make it work, Sergeant,” she told him. “That’s what you guys do against the bad guys, right?”

  He chuckled quietly and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Exactly.”

  “Okay, then.”

  She just had to pretend th
e bad guys were her own heart and spirit. For forty-eighty more hours, she was officially at war with herself.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Z needed a beer. Or twelve. Actually, he needed it an hour ago—at the moment he’d forced his legs to walk from those woods, away from Rayna. But hell, he really needed them now. After nine slices of wedding cake, he was fucking ready.

  Only now, there was a hefty line at the dry cleaning shop.

  After he growled for the fifth time, Garrett backhanded him in the chest. “Chill, assface. What is your goddamn problem?”

  “Oh, I dunno,” he drawled. “Maybe I’ve got Diabetes now. Seriously, Hawk. Eight different flavors? What the hell is lavender buttercream? Apple tiramisu? Cake is chocolate, man. Frosting is white. The roses are yellow, and—”

  “Goldenrod.”

  “What?”

  “The roses are goldenrod, you cretin. They have to match the napkins.”

  He would’ve laughed, but his shock eclipsed even that. “You are beyond pussy-whipped. I can’t even figure it out. What’s the term for what you are?”

  “In love.”

  He fell into silence. He wasn’t arguing with that one. Hell, he didn’t want to. “Well played, fucker,” he muttered, grinning at the look of total serenity on Garrett’s face. “Well played.”

  As his friend took a second to preen, the line moved forward at last. Two girls moved in behind them, giggling openly. Zeke attempted to ignore their high-pitched titters, but they were gaping right at him. He got in a surreptitious peek at his reflection in the shop’s glass front. Aside from the fact that his hair was way too long due to his cover on the Korean mission, nothing was out of place.

  The girls laughed again. He rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. Fuck. Nearly thirty years old, and he felt like a farty old man.

  “Um…excuse me?” One of the girls, a little blond in a tank top that exposed more that it covered, looked up at him with little bats of her lashes. “Can I ask you something?”

  Zeke gave her a polite smile. Though he and Garrett were wearing civvies, they carried their dress blues on hangers over their shoulders, which meant they were representing the Army as if they stood here in full work attire and boots. “Sure thing, miss.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost three thirty.”