Jameson (In the Company of Snipers Book 22)

by Irish Winters

“How’s it going, Ember baby?” Zack Lennox asked brightly as he cleared the door right behind her.

  She whirled into his arms. “Today’s the day!”

  “You’re finally going to tell everyone?” That cinched it. Zack had the uncanny gift of being able to tell when and if a woman was pregnant.

  “Rory and me are having a baby!” she blurted to the room, stamping her feet like a little girl on a sugar-high. “Next month! It’s finally happening! I get to be a mom!”

  “Ahem,” Rory cleared his throat. “We… get to be parents. Had to scrape Tyler off the ceiling when we told him last night. He can’t wait to be a big brother.”

  Tyler was their son from Rory’s previous marriage.

  Damned if Kelsey didn’t squeeze Alex’s hand when she saw his eyes brimming with tears. Again! He couldn’t rein in his emotions for the life of him today. But this was such good news. Ember and Rory deserved to be happy.

  “Congratulations,” he rasped as the room exploded into coos and ahhs and hearty back-slapping congrats.

  But when Rory revealed the bouquet of yellow roses behind his back and laid them across Kelsey’s legs with a kindly, “Congratulations, skinny mama,” son of a bitch! Alex couldn’t get his eyeballs to cease and desist. Manfully, he scrubbed a hand over his face. Again!

  A solid thump struck his biceps. Rory was grinning. He’d seen the near-tears, the ass. “Brought the new dad something, too,” he said as he handed over a fifth of something gold and expensive.

  McCallum Estate Single Malt Whisky. “My God, this had to cost you an arm and a leg.”

  Rory shrugged both shoulders. “Who cares? I’m celebrating my good news, as much as yours. Isn’t every day a man gets to bring his child into the world. My turn’s next. Best two reasons to celebrate I know.”

  Alex broke the seal on that bottle, and magically, a raft of red plastic cups appeared out of nowhere. Everyone but Ember and Kelsey got a sip, but he served Rory two fingers.

  Renner Graves had a twinkle in his eye when he raised his cup. “To your wee little one,” he said in the thickest Irish brogue Alex had heard in a while. “May Bradley Patrick Stewart be surrounded by sunbeams to warm him every day of his long, illustrious life. We already know he’s got a big badassed guardian angel to protect him, so...” Renner raised his cup and offered the Gaelic toast for health and wealth, “Sláinte is táinte.”

  “Cheers!” Zack roared like a beast. “When are you two having a baby?”

  The twinkle in Renner’s eye turned into a devilish spark. “We’re working on it,” he murmured as he turned to Tara and placed a kiss in her hair.

  “May the moon brighten all of his night times,” Eric Reynolds chimed in quietly, “and God bless all the places he’ll wander.”

  “And may God please bless him to be more like his sweet mother than his ornery dad,” Hunter growled. “Congrats, Boss. You too, Ember and Rory. When are you due?”

  “September eighteenth,” Ember declared, her eyes as bright as crystal emeralds. She looked downright radiant. She glowed, standing there with both hands cupping her belly, which was more apparent now. Yet still so much smaller than Kelsey’s had been. Alex hoped that was only because this was Ember’s first, while Kelsey had carried four babies to term.

  He had to give Ember credit for not allowing multiple miscarriages to stop her. Kelsey had been depressed when they hadn’t been able to get pregnant at first, but miscarrying would’ve been so much harder. He raised a plastic cup, his heart full for honorable, hard-working mothers and fathers everywhere, then waited until the room quieted.

  “A thousand lullabies to you both,” he said, his heart so damned full, it hurt to breathe. “And more butterfly kisses than you’ll ever be able to count.”

  “Awww,” Ember cried as she wrapped him into one of her signature hugs. “I remember,” she whispered. “You’re thinking of Abby. Love you, Boss.”

  “Yeah, well…” He endured the affection and wiped his eyes for the last damned time.

  “Here, here,” Kelsey murmured sleepily.

  “Time to go, people,” Libby Houston said as she leaned into Kelsey and carefully hugged her and the baby still hidden beneath the covers. “Why don’t we let this new family get some rest. I’ll bring Lexie by later.”

  “Aww,” Beau groused. “Don’t we even get to see him?”

  Alex shook his head. Damned if Beau didn’t act like a spoiled kid sometimes. Which made sense. He’d had, by far, the most screwed-up childhood of everyone in the room. Maybe his baby sister was here today, too, looking down on him from heaven. AJ, that was her name. AJ for Almond Joy. Her drug addict parents had named her after a candy bar, then killed her with neglect and their screwed-up drug addict lives, when she was just a baby.

  “Of course you get to meet him, sweetheart,” Kelsey replied as she reached under her blanket. And pop! That strong little guy’s lips let go. “Would you like to hold Bradley?”

  “Err, ahh, me?” Beau stuttered. “You’d let me hold him? Err, now? But he’s only an hour old and—”

  “Then don’t drop him,” Alex grumbled.

  “Yes, Beau. Here he is,” Kelsey said as she handed Bradley over to the man who’d once been beaten, burned, and abused by the son of a bitch who’d kidnapped him from his real family, then threw him away the day AJ died. Beau hadn’t even been seven years old.

  Alex watched the transformation take place as the big tough guy beside him gently cupped Bradley’s head and butt, then lay him lengthwise on his muscled forearm. Beau’s thick neck worked extra hard. He blinked and pinched his lips. There was unbridled adoration in his dark brown eyes, that yes, oh yes, were brimming with big sloppy tears he didn’t mind everyone seeing.

  “He’s so tiny,” he breathed.

  Alex put a palm in the center of Beau’s broad back. “What are you talking about? He’s damned near big enough to play tackle football.”

  The guys in the room laughed. The women were still cooing over Kelsey and Ember.

  There was a day Alex had wanted to fire this gentle giant. Back then, Beau’d been as rough as a cob and pissed at the world. He’d fight at the drop of a hat, and he’d threatened to quit more times than Alex had fingers to count on. But little by little and layer by stinking layer, Beau’s ugly childhood had been revealed. Damned if Alex didn’t find a big kid worth saving and a heart of gold beneath that crusty shell. It hadn’t hurt that Beau had been smart enough to fall in love with Doc Fitz. Loving the right woman had a way of changing everything.

  “He’s so, so tiny,” Beau whispered huskily. “He’s… he’s… God, he’s beautiful, Kelsey.”

  The big guy holding the little guy gulped, and yeah. Alex damned well knew Beau was remembering the sweet little angel that had been the one bright light in his miserable childhood. The veil between heaven and earth was very thin today. Births and deaths worked that way. The people who loved you were never very far away, and today, those spirits were close enough to help a guy remember.

  Reverently, Beau closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Bradley’s forehead. The little guy never squirmed or fussed, just lay there like a wrinkly, little old man with that funny, quirky newborn baby smile twitching his lips.

  Alex caught the affection glowing in McKenna’s eyes when her shaggy-haired husband whispered, “Sleep tight, little man. You’re safe. You’ll never not have guardian angels on your six.” If Alex were a betting man, he’d put a hundred on McKenna and Beau making another baby real soon.

  Skillfully, Beau handed the sleeping babe back to Kelsey, and manfully, he dashed his knuckles over his eyes and growled at Maverick and Hunter, “Yeah, I cry. So what? Get over it.”

  But they looked as sappy as he did.

  Alex shook his head at the mystery that was his life. He’d planted the seeds of an enterprising covert surveillance company. That was all. He’d hired kick-ass warriors, male and female. But what did he get? The best damn fam
ily a guy could ask for.

  He slapped Beau’s broad, muscular back and muttered, “You’re all right.”

  But then, out of the corner of his eye, Alex caught sight of the gray-haired old man blocking Kelsey’s door, standing there, like he belonged. In a heartbeat, he was on his feet, his Irish instantly up, hot, and ready to strike. One hand curled into a fist, his other pressed Kelsey to stay still behind him. “What the hell do you want?”

  Chapter Two

  Of course, he came into the friendly throng like the slimy snake he was, smiling like he always did, acting as if he cared, which he never had. As if he belonged inside this battle-hardened family where true warriors stood with their wives and their children, no matter how hard life became. As if he were one of the gang and supposed to be here, celebrating. As if he were the least bit welcome.

  The truth was a far cry different. This was the bastard who’d deserted his only child the day after that son’s mother had died of cancer, and three days before she’d been buried. Imagine the balls it took to do that. A liar and a cheat, Mel Stewart had only ever cared about himself. Figured he’d show up today. The man had always spoiled family events. Birthdays. Christmases. Any day that ended in a Y. Why would this uniquely special morning be any different?

  Everything warm and kind inside Alex fell silent. The room chilled as The TEAM closed around Kelsey and Bradley. Instantly, Rory stepped in front of Ember. That brought back the memory of the time he’d confronted Alex the day long ago he’d tossed his chair out his office window. Kelsey had been kidnapped and missing then, and Rory had been one brave son of a bitch to have faced the desperate, feral man Alex had become. Rory was still a brave son of a bitch today. And still standing with Alex.

  Alex stared his old man down, daring him to take one more step forward. Just one. He didn’t need this showdown today. Surely didn’t want it. It’d been a long time coming, but God, not today. Mel Stewart could take his worthless hide back to Hell for all Alex cared.

  The ass shrugged, almost coyly. Played dumb, as if he were the harmless, innocent victim here, and his son was the aggressor. So be it. Alex rolled his shoulder, old enough and strong enough to knock the bastard on his ass this time around. Sure as hell ready to make up for every hit he’d taken as a kid.

  His inner dragon growled, “I’ll ask you one more time. What the hell do you want?”

  The coy shrug again. The half-friendly smile. Those damned icy blue eyes. God, it was like looking in a mirror. “Ain’t you gonna introduce me?”

  “No.”

  “Heard you was here. Just thought I’d stop by and—”

  “You heard? How?”

  Both shoulders lifted again. “Called your office. See you’re a big man now. I’m proud—”

  “You were never proud of me. Stop the bullshit and go.”

  “Heard you’s a new daddy. Congratulations, son.”

  Shit. Now everyone knew. As if they hadn’t already noticed the resemblance. Alex took a deep breath, needing to explain to his wife and TEAM, but needing a helluva lot more patience first. “This is a private room. Back off and get out.”

  Both Mel’s callused palms came forward as if he were simply placating an unreasonable child. “Okay. I’ll just wait for you at your place, your home then, and we can—”

  Alex bristled at the persistent conniving manipulation. “No. Leave the city. Leave the state. I don’t care, just leave.”

  His old man’s fingers trembled as they raked over straggly gray hair, then combed down through a tangled, silvery beard. Dressed in what looked like hand-me-downs, he could’ve passed for one of Alexandria’s many homeless people.

  “Son, I—”

  “I’m not your son.” Alex made each word a bullet. “You gave up that right the day you walked out on me and Gramps and Gram. And your wife! Christ, you left before Mom was even cold.” Okay, that was more than he’d meant to share, but maybe it was time everyone knew what a bastard his father was.

  Mel’s chest puffed up. “I was a Navy SEAL, boy!” he bellowed. “I had a call to action, so I went. I served! You were a Marine. You know how that works. I had no choice, and I was damned proud to—”

  “You were never a SEAL.”

  “Was too!” Mel sputtered. “Got my trident ’fore I went to Moga… err, Mogadishu.”

  Another lie, not even well delivered.

  “Sir,” Mark interrupted. “It’s time you left.”

  Mel squared his shoulders and threw out a challenging, “Whatcha gonna do, throw me out? Keep me from seeing my first grandkid? You think you’re big enough to do that, buddy?”

  First grandkid?

  “Yes, sir, that’s exactly what I’ll do,” Mark replied evenly. All by himself, he made two of Mel, but Zack had stepped up to the plate now as well.

  “We’d rather escort you peaceably to the nearest exit, sir,” he intoned, his voice hard and deep, both muscular arms crossed over a chest that was twice the breadth of Mel’s. “But we can do this the hard way if you prefer. Your choice.”

  These two were the big guys on The TEAM. Both wide-shouldered and built like a pair of equally-yoked oxen, they were former Marines. They’d have no trouble making sure Mel hit the street. Preferably on his ass.

  “Just like that? You’re not even gonna let me take a peek at my only grandchild? Me, a tired old man. Your flesh and blood?” Mel pointed accusingly at Beau. “You let that beaner hold him.”

  Everything in Alex hardened into iron at that despicable ethnic slur. Once again, he was ashamed of his old man. Worse, Mel now had three big bruisers on their feet, ready to clean his plow.

  Right on cue, Beau turned nasty. “You’d better fuckin’ git, old man. Boss said go, you go!”

  Before this momentous occasion erupted into an outright brawl, Alex intervened with a weary sigh. “Don’t you dare insult my friends, Mel. You made your choice a long time ago. You walked out on everybody who loved you then. You don’t get to do it again. You have no son or grandson. Not anymore. The last time I saw you was the day you dropped me at Gramps and Grams’. You left me at the end of their driveway after Mom died, for God’s sake. Didn’t even have the guts to tell them what happened to her, or why you were leaving me. You just drove away, and now it’s too late. There are no more second chances. Don’t make this hard by starting a fight. Trust me, my guys will end you, and I’ll let them. Go. Just go.”

  Yet even as he cast his old man out of his life once again, he heard Kelsey’s gentle, “Alex?” behind him.

  Not ready to face her yet, he fastened his hardest gaze to the one who could hurt her without a second thought. “For the last time, walk away.” Before I make you.

  But damn. Soft, sweet fingers breached his fist, and Kelsey was doing what she did best. Getting through to him. Making him rethink everything he believed and knew to be true.

  Alex swallowed hard. He’d hated his dad for years. Mel hadn’t been much of a father when he’d been around, which had been damned seldom. But he’d always been a liar and a braggart, one of those mouthy guys who wasted everyone’s time talking about how great they were, but who’d never accomplished a damned thing other than ordering their browbeaten wives around and slapping their kids for breathing.

  But because of Kelsey—God, give me strength—Alex gestured toward his old man and begrudgingly admitted, “TEAM, Mel Stewart, the…” Asshole. “… man I haven’t seen in thirty damned years.”

  Mel brightened as if Alex had just conceded the battle. Straightening his grimy button-up shirt, the sly old fox grinned, as if he’d been welcomed with open arms. “Well, howdy. ’Bout time. Pleased to meet y’all.”

  Not a single agent returned the greeting. Camilla looked like she had something to say, though. Alex was glad she kept it to herself. Beau might be the one who went off half-cocked most often, but Camilla’s tongue was as sharp as a razor, and twice as lethal as Beau’s. She’d calmed down since she’d married B
eckam, and he’d turned into a bigger sap than Connor Maher. But Alex didn’t want to remember Bradley’s birth by what might take place if Camilla spoke her mind. She’d been another abused child. Another miracle that began when she fell in love with Beck.

  Flustered, Mel ran his fingers through his beard yet again. His nervous tell. “Well, err… Guess maybe I’ll just hafta—”

  “Wait!” Kelsey called out. “I’m Kelsey, Alex’s wife. Scoot over, honey. Let me say hello to my father-in-law.”

  Son of a bitch! She’d spoiled the whole damned goodbye and good riddance. Yet like the good husband he was, Alex sucked in his nasty temper, ‘scooted’ over, and allowed this snake a glimpse of the woman he’d kill his dad for. Count on it.

  Gritting his teeth, he said, “Kelsey. Sweetheart.” Damn, this was hard. “Mel Stewart. Mel, my wife.” And if you hurt her feelings even once, I will end you.

  Of course, Mel pulled his Southern gentleman schtick out of his ass and bowed with a flourish. Brushing past Alex, he took her clean, pure hand between his grubby paws. “Nice to finally meet you, Kelsey Stewart,” he purred as he placed his dry, filthy lips on her knuckles and kissed her hand. “Always wanted a daughter. Guess I got one now.”

  You’ve got nothing…

  Alex met Mark’s dark eyes over the top of his old man’s gray head. The stark stare of brotherhood glowered in his friend’s hooded gaze. Alex knew his second in command would take this jackal by the scruff of his skinny neck and toss him out if Alex gave even the slightest nod. But now that Kelsey was involved… He heaved a resigned sigh and signaled Mark to stand down with one curt shake of his head.

  “Can I see the little tyke since I’m here?” Mel asked. “What’d you name him?”

  Tugging the blanket away from Bradley’s face, Kelsey was her usual overly-kind self, a trait Alex hated at the moment. “Of course, you can see him. You’re his grandfather. We named him Bradley Patrick, after Alex’s grandfather. Just reversed the order of the names.”

  “You didn’t name him after me?” Mel pasted on his conniving crestfallen expression. “Well, darn.”