Hailey’s mouth opened and closed. Her eyes squeezed shut a moment and then she was frowning up at him.
“The actual numbers of our price range, you might have mentioned that two months ago,” she stated tartly. “How was I supposed to know you are stupid rich?”
“Don’t know.” He chuckled. “Somehow I thought you knew the kind of money group members make. Your girlfriend Julie has a McManson in Connecticut and one in Florida. The Marks Ranch is world class and I suppose I just assumed it would connect for you.”
“Well, I didn’t think about it.” Hailey huffed, her frown still in place.
“So is that the house?” Jack returned to the original topic. “Because I like it. The four-car garage and work shed are good for me. I like the pool and its lake view. What do you say?”
“As far as dream houses go…” Hailey tried to keep frowning. “I think I could make do with it.”
Jack’s head lowered and then he was kissing her again. As always, things got fuzzy for Hailey when he did that all slow and deep.
When she opened her eyes again he was holding a little blue velvet box in front of her face. “I’m buying that house for my wife,” he said softly.
Hailey’s eyes bounced from the box to his face and back again. Jack pulled himself up so his back was to the headboard, an arm around her brought her with him. He flipped the box it open. Taking out the ring, Jack picked up her trembling hand and slid the exquisite princess-cut diamond with pavé stones trailing down the sides of the band onto her finger.
“I’d ask the question, baby, but that implies you could say no. In the interest of total honesty, we are getting married. I don’t care when, how big or small the ceremony is, just so long as you are happy with it.”
“I love you, Jack.” Hailey got past the tears as she looked at her hand with its huge diamond. “But I’ve got to say, I’m shocked at the size of this. Even with the bank balance thing you just told me. Not that you can have it back,” she instantly clarified.
Jack kissed her forehead. “Found out making a statement about possession is pretty fucking important to me,” he confessed softly, enjoying watching her admire her ring almost more than slipping it on her finger.
“Well, this says I’m yours, as well as a small South American country with a strong pharisaical trade,” Hailey told him. “Statement made.”
“Good. Buying a house tomorrow. Time to sleep.” Jack slid down the bed, arranging them and flipping off the light.
“Honey,” Hailey said softly. “I think the rock is still glowing.”
“Smartass,” he growled.
Preview of the next book in COMMAND UNIT. Long Shot by Gail Faulkner, coming this summer.
LONG SHOT
Command Unit, Book Two
By: Gail Faulkner
Copyright
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews. Long Shot, Command Unit, Book Two Copyright © 2015 Gail Faulkner All rights reserved. First Digital Edition, 1 2015 gailfaulkner.info
Faulkner, Gail (2015) Long Shot, Command Unit, Book Two Kindle Edition.
Chapter One
Mike knew she was in the store. Incredibly light, as if moonbeams could be made into perfume, her scent drifted into his space, triggering that irritating tingle down his spine, an itch he couldn’t scratch. What was little miss angel face doing in Baker’s Hardware?
Not scanning the aisles for her was an effort. Stay focused, no sniffing her out like a dog in heat. That ass-jacked visual helped aim him directly at the hi-tensile bolts. Damn, knowing she was here made everything a suggestion. Hi-tensile bolts just became code for what his body wanted to do to hers.
Mike jerked the hardware tray open and scowled down at the thick bolts. They might be thick but not as thick as… Yeah, thinking like that was gonna help. Mike ignored the dick-talking commentary in his head and reached in to count out six bolts.
Suddenly moon dust pheromones surrounded him and Mike’s attention jerked around to gaze at the object of his degenerate obsession, standing right next to him. A lewd image of what she might want with hi-tensile bolts flickered through his mind. He swallowed and tried to wipe it from his consciousness fast enough to avoid the hard-on that visual demanded.
Shit. Thirty-eight years of control where his dick was concerned, hanging by a thread just because she was standing there. Fucking irritating. Grabbing his raging libido and locking it down in a choke-hold put a scowl on his face. Couldn’t be helped, little angel-face people shouldn’t be standing next to wild, animal men. A scowl was a lucky break for her, could have been a growl and some other man noises involved too.
Big eyes that were an amazing mix of gold and green looked up at him. There was a word for that color but it escaped him. Something fancy, of course he didn’t know it. Soft cheeks were a fascinating shade of pink as her little bow mouth pursed for a moment before she spoke.
“Excuse me, Mr. White.”
Even her voice was fucking amazing, slightly low for a woman. It entered his ears and apparently there was a direct channel from his ear drums to his dick because he swore he could feel her warm breath waft over him as she spoke. Scowling harder as he concentrated on not ripping the teeth out of his zipper with the steel behind it, he grunted a response.
“So sorry to bother you,” she continued. “But I have to… I mean there’s something you should know.” She stopped and glanced down, the shade of pink on her cheeks going distinctly darker as she looked back up at him.
Six foot two inches was a hell of a lot taller than her five foot six. He couldn’t be sure but it seemed her eyes traveled up his body as her face turned back to his. An observation he was going to think about later. Catching details was a skill as natural as breathing. Part of the reason he was so fucked with her standing right next to him.
For instance, there was no reason for him to know her bra was one of those low-cup deals that barely covered her nipples. The T-shirt over her upper torso was a standard white with high neck and regular sleeves. The outline of those low cups cut at the controls keeping his dick down with the power of a chainsaw. Only way to neutralize the attack was forgetting all about how soft flesh was cupped and displayed at the same time. Pride required he remain in control. Pride and perhaps normal, decent behavior in a public place.
His eyes focused directly into hers, he waited for her to continue. Not interrupting to make this encounter go faster might allow escape without making an ass-clown himself.
“Ah, my name is Serra Norman.” She swallowed. “We met a few months ago.”
“I know who you are, miss,” Mike growled then cleared his throat as her blush faded to fear. What the hell? Her flash of fear made him somehow pissed at himself. “Sorry, what can I do for you?” he amended quickly and was immediately busy trying not to answer that question in his head with all the things a male could do for a female once he ripped her little scrap of a bra off.
Her spine straightened, doing amazing things for the plain white T-shirt that he was not looking at. “Mr. White, I’m sorry but I lust you and I told my best friend.”
Her words rushed and bumped into each other but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t have been capable of a response as she paused even if someone put a Glock to his temple. The best he could hope for was his mouth wasn’t hanging open, but it could be. His face was numb, likely caused by the blood charging south.
“The bad thing is,” Serra rushed on. “Her brother heard. I didn’t know he was listening. He’s kind of a mess. I mean, he just got back from some sort of survival camp. He was injured and it messed with his head. I m
ean a head injury, but um…” The words stumbled to a stop as her forehead wrinkled slightly. “The important thing is, Kathy said he’s all twisted about something. Last she saw him he was grabbing his rifle and muttering about killing them and um…you, maybe me. She’s really worried and I thought you should know…”
The ugly words flash froze the sludge in Mike’s skull, ice zipped down his body followed by cold calm. She was still talking but there was only one set of facts he needed clarification on, he needed it right now! Gripping her shoulders gently, he gave her a tiny shake to stop the nervous babbling about unimportant stuff.
“Who is threatening to kill you?” Mike asked as calmly as those obscene words could be said. “His name and last known location?”
Big eyes blinked at him. All those words seemed to have left her little time to breathe and she gulped in air.
“He’s not going to kill me. I don’t think. Kathy said he seemed focused on you. I’m so sorry. I had no idea until Kathy called me.”
“His name?” Mike asked again calmly, cutting off the rush of words. He forcefully projected control, trying to get her to slow down. She’d given him several deadly facts in her jumbled explanation but he had no problem discarding the irrelevant. Gun, survivalist camp, fucked in the head. Okay, she didn’t say fucked but it was part of the facts.
“Jason Colebeck,” she supplied softly. Looking down again she continued. “I don’t know where he is. Kathy said he left the house with his gun and she’s terrified he’ll do something stupid.”
Mike let go of one shoulder and hooked a knuckle under her chin, gently lifting it. He needed her full attention on the important information. “When did he leave with the gun and does he know where you are?”
Her hand lifted with her phone in it as she answered, “Kathy said he left a few minutes ago. He knows my car and…”
Mike glanced at the wall of windows to the parking lot beyond. There was her yellow VW, pretty as you please, easily seen from all four roads at this corner of the world. Shit. But that wasn’t their biggest problem. The red dot that had just appeared on a box of bolts was.
The shot exploded the box of bolts but Mike already had them down and around the aisle corner. Covering as much of her as he could, he rested most of his weight on knees and elbows. Another shot took out a motor oil display to the left. Mike wasn’t about to be pinned down, though remaining on top of the woman who was, amazingly, not screaming beneath him wasn’t a half-bad way to spend some time. Under fire was probably not how she’d like to do it. He didn’t give a shit as long as the cover was good, probably not a good idea to let her realize that. Shielding her from the shooter and his boner was the mission, in that order.
Screaming started as people realized there was shooting going on. Mike hoped the crazy bastard would give up but there was no guarantee.
His mouth at her ear to be sure she heard his instruction, he let her know what they were going to do. “Angel, I’m going to lift you in my arms and get out the back door. Do not struggle. It will be faster if I do the running. You understand?”
She nodded and that was all he needed.
He didn’t stop until he had her across the back alley and in the shop that faced the next block. Mike let her slide down his side as he grabbed his cell from the other pocket. Keeping an arm around her because there was nowhere else he wanted that arm to be, he dialed Stan, the sheriff.
Stan picked up on the first ring but Mike didn’t wait for him to speak. 9-1-1 calls had to be pouring in and all Stan needed was the SITREP. “Shooter, name, Jason Colebeck. Target, me and Serra Norman. I have her and we’re evac. Call you when I have her at a secure location.”
“Wait a damn minute. Where’s this intel from?” Stan wanted to know, his siren blaring as he spoke.
“The sister told Serra he was gunning for me and her, then shooting started. I’m not waiting around to verify. Extreme caution, Kathy, the sister, says Colebeck’s been to some sort of survivalist camp came home with a head injury. That’s all I got and we’re not secure yet. Out.”
Mike switched off his ringer and jammed the already vibrating cell back in his pocket. Stan possessed all the information Mike had to offer and there were other things that needed doing. Like getting the trembling woman out of town and doing it invisibly.
“We need to keep moving, angel,” Mike stated in explanation as he turned them and headed to the shop’s front door. It was the obvious exit but likely the safest egress since the shooter had been facing the building directly behind this one. Staying on this side of the street and moving fast would get them out of the kill zone and out of sight. No way the guy could move to another secure location fast enough to get a bead on them.
At least that was how a normal civilian shooter worked. This one was working on the wrong side of normal because a window shattered at the other end of the street behind them just as they turned the corner at the end of the block. Damn. Speed and cunning. Fucking great. A nut who tracked fast and guessed escape routes correctly.
Holding her hand, he kept the jog slow enough to keep her from stumbling. Mike took them down another alley and cross two backyards. Abandoning standard routes was the only way to mask the direction they were headed.
“Angel, is your friend a Native American?” Mike asked as he pulled her inside Stan’s garage. The question was idle curiosity and a way to distract her as he held the car door open for her to get in. Stealing Stan’s personal car was his only option for fast transportation but he didn’t want to explain right now.
Mike didn’t wait for an answer as he moved to the driver’s side and slid in. Hot wiring the older-model Ford was a breeze while Serra stammered her answer.
“Ah, no. Why?”
Electric garage door opened slowly. “Head down, Serra. Make yourself small.” She did it as they pulled out of the garage slowly. “I asked because he hunts like a tracker would,” he added as they turned down the street and headed away from the shooting site.
Driving at a sedate pace, Mike didn’t see anything on their six that got his bullet detector’s meter running. Course the bullet detector only had to fail once to be fatal.
“Did you just steal this car?” Serra asked. She was crouched on the floor, her hands and chin resting on the seat. She whispered as if the stalker could hear them and Mike winced. He’d done nothing to reassure her. Not that he was about to pretend they were safe but he could at least get her off the death-watch thing.
“Not really. It belongs to a friend.” He tried to smile and explained. “We’re heading to the mall like any normal car from this town would. Don’t get up yet, angel, I want to get out of town and out of scope range. Then we’ll call Stan and see how things are. If Colebeck hasn’t taken a shot at the car yet, he probably has no idea where we are,” Mike assured her. Glancing down at her pale face, he attempted a smile. “You did really well. Followed direction with no panic.”
“Yeah, thanks. It’s a new skill for me,” Serra said. Her arms came up on the seat and she buried her face in them. “I think I dropped my phone in the hardware store.”
Keeping an eye on traffic, Mike kept glancing down at the back of her head but she didn’t say anything else. The good news was he didn’t see tumbling red-gold curls shaking that would indicate tears. Was she was hiding from him? He didn’t like it. This incident was probably going to end as soon as he called Stan again and he’d have to drive her home, or somewhere else equally separate from him. He didn’t like that either.
Unexpected time with the woman he couldn’t get out of his head was a fucking gift he didn’t intend to squander. And that was the nice way of saying that for the last year, hers was the face and body he saw when attempting to get off with someone else. He’d pretty much given up seeking relief in the usual places because of that. He wasn’t about to waste some of his opening with her being embarrassed over that bit of girl talk she had confessed. It was also one of the bravest, most intelligent things she could have done and he
was damn well impressed.
“Serra?” he asked quietly.
“Mmm.” She didn’t lift her head.
“Are you still afraid of being shot? We’re far enough out to be secure.”
“No,” she stated, though it was muffled by her arms.
“Good. You can sit on the seat if you want,” Mike suggested. At least then her head would be out of her arms.
“No thanks.” Again muffled, but definitely a refusal to move.
“I’d really like to look at you while we talk,” Mike stated. Demanding she sit up seemed a bit fatherly, the last thing he was feeling.
“Can’t.”
A grin tipped his lips. No chance of her seeing his amusement so he didn’t have to hide it. Angel face was kinda adorable all scrunched over and trying to hide.
“Serra, I’d really like to thank you for saving my life. Doing it to your face makes it feel more proper and well, grateful.”
Her head bounced a bit and he heard a muffled laugh. “Really backwards, hero.”
“What was that?” he pressed her. Acting like he couldn’t hear her would surely get her off the floor.
“You heard me. You’re the hero. I’m the…incredible idiot.” Her head came off the seat but hands covered her face as she inhaled deeply then dropped her hands. Arms straight out on the seat, she remained in the foot well and looked up at him. “I’m so sorry, Mr. White. Really. And thank you for saving my life, too.”
“Most people just call me Mike. I’d really like it if you quit putting Mr. White in your sentences when you mean me,” he requested without taking eyes of the road. Not looking at her might make it easier for her to get up on the seat. “And I’d also like it if you weren’t sorry we get to spend some time together. I’m attracted to you and didn’t have the bal— courage to get your number. You’ve only spoken to me that one time and well, it seemed like you avoided me since. I assumed you were seriously not interested.”
Perfectly Exposed (Command Unit Book 1) Page 10
