But there’d been a definite spark with Rory that night. A fierce, intense attraction.
A hot wave of je ne sais quoi had spilled between them so hard he still felt that sting in his chest three months later.
And when he’d learned Rory had given up her adventurous life to settle down in Louisiana and begin K9 training, well, he’d hatched a plan to head down there and ask for help. Unfortunately, his plan had gone to hell when his new rescue had been taken back by his owner a little over two weeks ago.
“Rory would be a kick-ass trainer,” A.J. said, interrupting Chris’s wandering thoughts. “But . . .”
“But do you expect her to not only work with this new dog but also play babysitter during training when we have to spin up?” Wyatt asked. “She’s gonna love that.”
“I don’t want to bust your balls or your hopes and dreams, but I know Rory, and she ain’t gonna come to Virginia. I mean, she hasn’t officially opened the doors to her training business since she has to update all her old licenses and coursework,” A.J. said, but he didn’t bust anything of Chris’s. He didn’t give up that easily, and A.J. knew that.
“Chris won’t know until he asks,” Finn commented, catching Chris’s eyes in the rearview mirror.
“Ana and Rory are friends, aren’t they? They get along, right?” Chris turned his attention back to A.J. “I mean, while you two lovebirds are building your place in Alabama, you’re living just outside D.C., so there’d be another familiar face other than your ugly mug.”
“Speaking of Ana,” A.J. began, squeezing the back of his neck, “there is something I should probably tell you guys now that I am back and operating again.”
“Oh, shit.” Wyatt twisted around in his seat to glimpse at A.J., the look on his face indicating he was preparing for bad news. A.J. had only returned from his physician-mandated three months off a day before this op. After one too many concussions, A.J. had finally seen a doctor and had been forced to take some time off. Chris had seen what head injuries could do—he’d witnessed some of the best men taken down from blasts on the battlefield back in Iraq, and the last thing he’d wanted was for something to happen to one of his best friends on an op. He wouldn’t be able to handle that. So, he was relieved to learn A.J.’s scans came back just last week with the all-clear to operate again, starting today, the first of October.
A.J. held one palm in the air in surrender, the other maintaining a grip on his gun. “I did a thing. Like a big thing. And maybe don’t kill me, but I saved you from wearing monkey suits, so—”
“I told you. You owe me a hundo,” Finn said, eyes on Wyatt before his focus turned back to the “road” they were on.
Chris scoffed. He’d wear the suit if it meant standing by one of his best friends on his wedding day. “The months you spent bouncing around the world—you were on a honeymoon, huh? You pulled an Asher and Jessica and got married without telling anyone.”
Bravo Three and Jessica had dropped the news at Wyatt’s wedding in late July that they’d eloped, and Chris had been pretty sure Jessica’s brother, Luke, who happened to be Bravo One, almost suffered from heart failure.
“Better than Liam and Emily’s rendition of Ross and Rachel get drunk-married in Vegas, I guess,” Finn joked.
“Who are Ross and Rachel?” Wyatt removed his ball cap and scratched his head, obviously confused.
“How’d your parents take it?” Chris asked when Finn didn’t answer. Wyatt righted his hat back in place, missing the Friends reference Finn had made about Liam’s Vegas wedding to Emily.
Chris fidgeted with his own hat and repositioned it, so the bill was at the back of his head. His normal go-to was his Red Sox hat, but on an op like this, personal details of any kind were not allowed. Every precaution was taken to prevent the scums of the earth from learning anything about them.
There are three of us left unmarried, Chris realized. Seven guys down. When did that happen? Echo Team had been dubbed FSG, the “Forever Single Guys,” by Jessica, but then Wyatt fell in love with a CIA officer and A.J. with a Fed. Everyone knew Roman was spoken for, even if Roman didn’t admit it. So, that left Finn and Chris to hold the single torch.
“We told them two weeks ago. The day after you called me about your rescue dog, actually.” A.J. grimaced with an apology for Chris’s dog loss. “They want to throw us a proper wedding, of course, but damn, neither Ana nor I want that. But uh, can y’all help me break it to the others later?”
“You mean you want protection from all the wives who will want to whack you over the head?” Chris reached for his phone, vibrating in his side pocket.
Only the wives of Bravo Team and Echo One and Two were aware of what the guys really did for work.
Chris would never forget the day he was recruited back in January of 2013.
At the time, he’d been stationed in Virginia. Even though Boston wasn’t all that far away, he hadn’t seen his dad in two years, so during a rare weekend off, he’d made the trip. His dad had flaked on him and gone out of town at the last minute, no surprise there. With nothing else to do, he’d hit up a local bar, a hidden gem near Fenway Park, and he almost couldn’t believe it when he bumped into one of his favorite Red Sox players. Literally bumped into him, spilling beer in his lap.
Before Chris had a chance to order a new drink for the guy, he’d spotted Luke Scott striding his way, the crowd peeling back as if sensing there was something special about the man. And there was. Luke Scott was a legend in the SEALs. Chris had also heard chatter Luke had up and left the Navy, and not due to an injury either. So, seeing Luke beckon him outside was more unexpected than spilling a beer on David Ortiz.
After a quick apology and a round of beers for Big Papi and his friends, Chris made his way outside to talk with Luke and the woman with him. His sister. Also unanticipated.
The ground had been covered in freshly fallen snow, and snowflakes continued to drift, swirling around in the wind while Luke and his sister made him an offer he’d never seen coming.
A chance to be part of a new team, one they felt Chris was perfect for, for reasons they didn’t explain, even when he’d asked. But how could he say no to working directly for the Commander in Chief?
He never did get a chance to go back and chat up the Sox player, but Luke’s sister, Jessica, who co-ran the teams, made it up to him later that year. She scored him World Series tickets, a once-in-a-lifetime event he’d only dreamed of attending as a kid growing up in South Boston.
But wow, time had flown by since his recruitment.
“You gonna keep staring at your phone or answer it?” A.J.’s words had Chris blinking and quickly bringing his phone to his ear.
Right. “Hey, tell me you have good news,” Chris answered.
“I will as long as you’re not off on some beach soaking in rays while I’m out here training new recruits,” his former OIC, Edwards, responded, his throat raspy as if he’d been laying it on thick to the recruits at BUD/S.
“Definitely not on a beach,” Chris replied with a smile. “But I’m betting you are, and you’re actually loving every minute of chewing everyone out.”
Edwards barked out a laugh. “Nah, I’d rather be out there kicking down doors.”
“You’re the hotshot West Point grad who went the officer route,” Chris reminded him.
“The wife gave me no choice, what can I say,” Edwards said on a sigh. “But anyway, you still looking for a canine for your security team?”
Chris sat taller. “Hell yeah.”
“I got word there’s a Belgian Malinois who needs a home. He’d been brought in to work with the Teams, and well . . .”
“What?” Chris brought the phone closer to his ear.
“They say this one might be untrainable.” Becoming a canine for the Navy was about as difficult as a man joining the SEALs. “He’s not bad-tempered, he’s just not exactly motivated, but I thought if anyone—”
“I’ll take him.” Finally, some good news. “What’s hi
s name?”
“Bear,” Edwards answered, and Chris’s mouth rounded in surprise.
“Bear,” Chris repeated, and A.J.’s brows shot up.
The guys had given Chris a hard time since he’d gone face-to-face with a polar bear up in the Norwegian archipelago, choosing to risk capture by the Russians rather than shoot the animal. This had to be fate.
“I’m heading back to the States today. Is Bear in Virginia or California?”
“Little Creek. I’ll let the guys know you’re on your way. Check ya later,” Edwards said before ending the call.
Chris tucked his phone back into his pocket and slapped a hand to his thigh. “We’re getting a dog. And he already has some training with a SEAL Team, so—”
“And why don’t they want him?” Wyatt looked back at him.
Chris lifted his shoulders and tightened his eyes. “They said he’s untrainable.”
Wyatt shook his head, a smile easing onto his lips. “Sounds about right,” he said just as a pop-pop-pop struck the side of the Tahoe.
Chris gripped his rifle and tossed a look out the window to see an SUV charging for them. “We’ve got company.”
“Incoming on my side, too,” A.J. added.
“Guess the bad guys want their leader back.” Finn reached for the radio to connect with the rest of the team in the second SUV.
“I thought we nailed everyone at the compound,” Wyatt said, annoyance in his tone. “How’d they find us?” He tossed another look back at Chris. “You let someone get the drop on you and plant a tracking device?”
“Real funny, brother.” Chris scoffed.
“Man, I really, really hate human traffickers.” A.J. turned toward the back as if this was just another day. And for them, it was. “RPG?”
Chris smiled and nodded. “RPG.”
Chapter Three
New Orleans, Louisiana - One Week Later
“Ella called last night,” Rory casually tossed out to her brother.
Jesse’s long, jean-clad legs were bent at the knees, and his cowboy boots, which had seen better days, were getting her new tile floors dirty as he worked beneath the kitchen sink, fiddling around with a pipe.
“She was asking about you,” she went on, knowing their childhood friend Ella was why he’d invaded her new place and had kept himself busy since the moment he arrived. “Ignore me all you want, but it won’t change reality.”
Rory grabbed a slice of bread from the bag in front of the bread box and popped it into the toaster. She didn’t use the bread box, but it was the perfect place to hide a handgun. Her brother knew about the gun. As well as the three others hidden around her house, placed strategically for easy access. What he didn’t know was the reason she needed four firearms. And she had no plans to divulge the all too real threats looming over her.
Jesse lifted his head to eye her for a moment. “Toast? At two in the afternoon?” He chuckled before swapping his wrench for another tool. “Didn’t you just eat a couple of those brownies your neighbor brought over?” he grumbled. “Don’t like that guy, by the way. Either he had something in his eye, or all that winking was meant as flirting.”
“Is that why you wouldn’t eat the brownies?” She peeked at the glass dish of homemade brownies. “I thought it was sweet. I’m pretty sure no guy has baked for me.”
“Still don’t like him,” Jesse added in a low voice.
“You don’t like anyone.”
“That’s not true.” He ducked back under to fidget with the pipes as if he knew what he was doing. And total disclosure, he didn’t.
“So, about Ella.”
Whack. He hit his head. She swore that man probably needed to see a neurotrauma specialist considering all the times he’d banged his head against the nearest object whenever the subject of Ella came up during the last few months.
Ella was supposed to marry a banker named Brian, a guy she’d met on a girls’ night out in Mobile. Rory had been somewhere abroad that night, but even when Ella had described Brian on their regular weekly chats, her tone had been lackluster at best.
Rory hadn’t even met the guy until the night of Brian’s bachelor party, which was Rory’s fault because of her travels, but he’d been stiff and uptight. Not the kind of passionate lover Ella deserved.
She had always assumed Ella would wind up with Jesse. Rory used to catch Ella drawing hearts on her notebooks during class in middle school, scrawling J.M. in red ink at the center. Jesse McAdams. But then Jesse went off to the Army right after high school, and his calls and letters to everyone had been few and far between. Rory was pretty sure Ella had given up on the idea of Jesse making a move, even after he’d returned from the Army, but Brian clearly wasn’t the man for Ella. And given all it took were a few words from Jesse the night before her ceremony to stop the wedding, said it all.
“Can we not talk about her?” He eased his head back out from under the sink. If only he would ease it from out of his stubborn ass.
“Ella went on a blind date last night. Is that why you’re here? Why you took off from Bama and just had to have a vacation down here with me?” she went on, knowing she was irritating him the way sisters were supposed to. “You ruined her wedding.”
Jesse stood, set the tool down on the counter, and folded his arms over his chest. “I didn’t ruin her wedding. What she does is—”
“Don’t you dare say it’s none of your business. You’re the one who stood up at the dress rehearsal dinner the night before she was supposed to walk down the aisle and said she shouldn’t marry Brian.” She poked a finger at his chest.
His chin jutted forward slightly. He’d shaved his beard, which was a look she wasn’t used to on him. Jesse’s light blue eyes softened when he replied, “You didn’t like him. No one did. I did her a favor. I didn’t want to see a good friend of mine marrying some asshole.”
“You showed up on what would have been the day of the wedding after A.J. blew up your phone with messages to let you know Ella called it off. You and Ella shared a dance. Shared a moment. But why in blazes did you not make a move after that? She’s in love with you, ya idiot. And we both know you feel the same, so why has it been crickets since? Why did my best friend go on a blind date?”
“You roll your eyes anymore they’ll get stuck,” he said, repeating what their mom used to snap out to them growing up.
“I just can’t with you, Jesse. I don’t know what happened in . . .” Iraq. When his eyes met hers, the harsh glare of pain there, she abruptly turned, unable to handle seeing him hurting and knowing she may have been the cause. “Ella shouldn’t have married Brian, you’re right.” She should be marrying you. “And if you felt she needed some space after their breakup, well, it’s officially been long enough.”
Rory retrieved her bread and busied herself with applying butter and grape jelly. She bit down, brushing away the crumbs that scattered onto her plain cream-colored tee tucked into dark skinny jeans.
“Ella and I . . .” His voice was thick with—shit, regret.
Rory faced him and said, “You’re going on thirty-seven.” Stop poking the bear. But she loved that bear, and she didn’t want to give up on him.
“And you’re fixin’ to be thirty-four in December, so what,” he snapped back, still growly.
Her shoulders slumped, feeling too deflated to continue. He was more stubborn than her, which was saying a lot. “So, why are you here out of the blue, then?”
Relief filled his gaze as if grateful for the subject change. “A buddy of mine from the service is on leave here, and I plan on meeting up with him later today.”
She finished her toast in two more quick bites, still hungry despite the large lunch she’d cooked for the two of them earlier.
“How about we talk about the fact you’re back in the U.S.? And well, are you staying this time? Is this real? Why didn’t you move home instead? You can train dogs anywhere.”
“I am staying for . . .” Could she say the words “for good” and
actually mean them? Would she settle down this time?
She thought back to her time with Carter Dominick seven weeks ago. His words of warning burned through her mind and had her shivering. Rory had never tried to fool herself and downplay the dangers surrounding her work. She’d always known the risks, but they had been worth it as long as no one discovered her. Carter capturing her changed everything.
“I have all the coursework and training. You know how great I am with animals. This is a perfect fit for me.”
“I know that, which is why you should have kept at it after college.” He maneuvered around her and went for the stack of mail like he’d spotted something of interest. “Tell me you’re not going to this?”
He picked up the invitation and flapped it in the air like the paper had wings and would fly. Far. Far. Away.
Yeah, she should have tossed the invite the second she received it yesterday. Her mom had been sending all her mail to her new place since Rory didn’t want anyone outside her close friends and family knowing where she lived quite yet. But instead of tossing the invite, she left it on her counter to stare at every time she walked by.
“You’re cordially invited to attend Andrew Cutter’s Treasure Extravaganza on Friday, October fifteenth, twenty twenty-one,” Jesse read the headline of the invite in a fake haughty voice.
Was it really already October 2021? Time had flown by ever since she’d escaped that shitty hellhole of a year, 2020. She’d never believed so many things could go wrong in one single year. Thank God for 2021, even with her run-in with Carter Dominick, it was still a far better year.
“Of course, I’m not going. It’s too last minute and all the way in D.C. I just moved here a month ago. If I want to get any clients, I can’t go and take off to some party out of town.” Her body felt a little limp and relaxed despite the fact he was flicking his finger at the invitation.
“This is a pretty big honor, huh?” he went on, pushing her buttons. Getting back at her. Testing her. Seeing if she’d take the bait. Go back to the life if her old flame asked her. Only Jesse had no idea that life wasn’t remotely close to the one she’d been living the last five years. “Andrew has gotta be pretty rich after this discovery.”
Chasing Fortune (Stealth Ops Book 8) Page 3
