The Titan Series: Military Romance Boxed Set

by Cristin Harber

  “Airplane tickets.”

  “Airplane tickets?” She yanked her hand back like the envelope had bitten her. “Why? To where?”

  “A private island in the Caribbean.” He took her hand, enveloping it between his palms. Her arm stiffened, but she didn’t pull away. “We can, ya know, focus on you and me. We’ll hash everything out in a neutral setting. Reconnect.” Neutral, reconnect. Two buzz words Mia had used over and over.

  “I don’t want to reconnect.”

  This was the best idea he had. His go-big-or-go-home strategy, and it’d taken a lot of help from Mia. There might be simpler ways to rebuild their life other than jet-setting to a tropical getaway, but this was the one that worked best in his head. Mia said the idea was too big, and maybe he should’ve listened. Maybe he should listen to anyone but himself where his family was concerned, because his choices weren’t working.

  Brock pressed her hand in his grip, unwilling to let go and give up. “I talked to, um, somebody. A therapist. Mia Winters. She works with Titan sometimes and said this idea was too much. Too bold or aggressive. But why hold back? I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

  Sarah’s bottom lip dropped open. “A therapist?”

  “She also said there was stuff we could do. Talk about. Think about. Do, to work shit out.” Why did talking to someone make him feel like a pussy? Such an awkward conversation, with Mia, and now Sarah. But screw it, whatever it took. He brought her knuckles to his chin, not daring to kiss them but needing their touch.

  “I’m not sure…”

  This was the most uncomfortable conversation, maybe ever. But if it had to be said, then fine. He was saying it. “We could go see a counselor, or whatever they’re called. Do that once-a-week appointment thing for a few months. Or we could take off, just the two of us, for as long as it takes. I’ll answer your questions. We’ll make changes that work for us. Make us us again. Better than before.”

  “But…”

  She wasn’t saying no. That was a good thing. She hadn’t reminded him that he was long past the three-minute mark. “It’d be like a second honeymoon,” he urged.

  She snatched her hand away.

  Wrong thing to say. Honeymoons were all about flirting and screwin’ and—well, he’d take that too. “Angel.”

  “Time to go.” She stood up, nearly knocking over her chair.

  Still seated, he looked at the floor, dropped his forearms to his knees, and bent over. So close, and she was backing away again. He scrubbed a hand over his face then raised his head to rake his gaze over her. That knockout was still his wife, and there wasn’t a thing wrong with wanting her like he always did. Perfect breasts. Perfect hips. Pouty lips that could kiss and suck. No, nothing about the word honeymoon was off-putting to him.

  Brock unfolded himself from the chair. He crossed his arms and studied. Dilated pupils. Shorter breaths. Her sharp stare dropped to the tattoos on his arm then roamed across his chest. He might not be Titan anymore, but he still had the skills to decipher the micro-emotions of a victim. Sarah wasn’t reacting as a victim. Not right now. She was reacting aroused. Shocked, maybe at how she felt, angry that her responses betrayed her attitude. But honeymoon didn’t scare her from him, just their conversation.

  “Hell, I’ve missed you.” The words rumbled from his chest.

  She took a step back, her nipples outlined through the fabric of her shirt. “You already said that.”

  Springing an erection on her would be a worst-case scenario. Smart idea or not, he took a step forward. And another. Until Sarah was against the wall and he had inches to spare. “If you think packing up and moving out does anything to change my wanting you, you’re crazy. Because goddamn, angel, it’d be a lie. Take your ticket. Think it over and get on the plane.”

  He brushed the hair off her cheek, pinning it behind an ear, and kissed her cheek. He lingered, letting his hips feel their fire, and he breathed in summer and sunshine. A nice, long breath. Just in case she didn’t show and he needed something to remember.

  Brock stepped back. Her eyes were closed. Her chin dropped down. His eyes traveled over her body, memorizing every swell and curve. It was her hands that would stick with him. Palms flat against the wall. Fingers splayed and flexed.

  He turned, took his one ticket from the envelope, and left her alone with her thoughts.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Surprised by the tsunami of skin prickles cascading down her neck, Sarah clung to the wall long after Brock’s heavy footfalls retreated out the front door. Her eyes stayed closed, still seeing him. Feeling him. Craving him.

  She slid down the wall, landing in a turned-on mess. He’d always been her superhero. She’d always been his angel. Why did he have to break that out, when she had been struck so vulnerable by his very presence?

  The Brock she’d married didn’t run off and talk to therapists. He had all the answers. He’d known all solutions… well, until he didn’t. In years of marriage, they’d had their share of fights. But he’d never been flat-out wrong. Even if she’d accused him of it. Until she and the kids had been taken.

  Sarah slipped a hand over her open mouth. For all his muscles, his warrior-like toughness, he’d made himself vulnerable and asked for help. A therapist? It was so unlike him.

  But that wasn’t why she plastered herself against the wall and remained on her floor, nearly hyperventilating. His smoky, dark eyes comforted her, even if his arms hadn’t. They’d seared her senseless. She couldn’t help but visually trace the cording of his muscles. The colors tattooed on his arm that she knew spilled onto his back.

  He was rock solid. Wide as their house. Defined tall, dark, and deadly. He’d worshipped the ground she walked on. She knew that, and seeing him was a vivid reminder. Her mind was cloudy and confused. Every time she thought of the kids’ safety, she panicked. When she thought of him, she felt betrayed. But when she saw him, Brock broke through the mental barrier she’d erected for protection.

  Her phone rang from on top of the table and, sitting on a lump on the floor, she decided to let it go to voice mail.

  The kids!

  Panic struck as her pulse hurdled erratically. She jumped to her feet. Irrational, unreasonable concern for their safety flooded her thoughts. Swiping the phone from the table, she read Nicola’s name on the display. Another Titan wife she hadn’t known until recently. Sarah had been cocooned in her little world, while other Titan men had loved and lived, in public. What had made Brock so scared to share them?

  Catching her breath, she mentally scolded herself for thinking the worst about Kelly and Jessica. She’d come to Pennsylvania to get away from her paranoia. Like the distance would somehow help. It didn’t.

  The phone continued to ring, still Nicola. She answered. “Hey, girl.”

  “Sarah. Dang, it takes you forever to pick up. We—”

  “We?” she asked, sliding into the chair Brock had just used.

  “Sugar’s here too.”

  “Hey,” Sugar said. “We’re in Nic’s car. Speakerphone.”

  Sarah had briefly met Nicola but liked her. “Hey, Sugar.” Since she had them on the phone and the question was fresh in her mind, Sarah used the call to her advantage. “Who’s Mia Winters?”

  “Good.” Sugar laughed. “Brock’s been there already.”

  “You knew?” She glared at the floor. “A little warning would’ve been nice.”

  “No, we just found out,” Nicola answered. “Sugar bothered Jared, who’d been talking to Mia. Those two are chatty-Cathies, I’m telling you. Anyway, you talked to Brock?”

  Talked? Not so much. Pretty much stared. Years of marriage and the man was every bit as hot as when she’d first seen him. Actually, probably hotter. He’d matured. Shed his post-military body for the hunk of steel Titan had turned him into. “Yes. Well, sort of. Wait, tell me about Mia.”

  Sugar jumped in. “Mia just had a baby. Winters is her husband. He never goes by Colby, but that’s his first name. She’s a military
therapist. Deals with all those Special Forces types who can’t talk about their nightmares and paranoia, helps them transition into everyday life.”

  Nightmares and paranoia? Sounded like her. “She talked to Brock.”

  “She talks to all of them,” Nicola said. “Easygoing but tough as nails. If that makes sense.”

  “Guess so.” Then again, all these Titan ladies seemed laid-back and unflappable. Just like she’d thought she was, until an abduction had proven her wrong.

  “Well?” both Sugar and Nicola asked in unison.

  “Well, what?”

  “Don’t play stupid. What’d your superhero have to say?”

  Sarah’s cheeks heated. She’d told Sugar that Brock was her superhero before the truth had come out. “He’s not my—never mind. He talked to Mia.”

  “Yeah, we got that, hon. Keep going.”

  Sugar was the bossy one of the group, that was for sure. “They talked about how we could, I don’t know. This feels so stupid to say out loud. How we could make things work again. I guess. He didn’t go into details.”

  “He drove to Pennsylvania and didn’t go into details?” Nicola scoffed. “Typical man.”

  “He gave me an airplane ticket.”

  Silence.

  For a second, which Sugar broke. Big surprise. “To where?”

  “I, um, haven’t actually looked. It’s in an envelope.”

  “Well, Jesus, Sarah. Go look. We’ll wait.”

  She laughed. Yup, Sugar was definitely the bossy one. “Okay.”

  Why was she nervous to open the envelope? Maybe because she was considering it. The kids would be fine with her mom. They’d spent plenty of vacations with their grandma before, without her or Brock. Maybe because she didn’t know how she felt about staying married, but when he was in front of her, all she could think about was the benefits of being married.

  She peeled back the flap and pulled out her ticket. Leaving in two days. Flying first class. “Saint Lucia.”

  Nicola squealed. “Oh, I love it there!”

  Sugar grumbled. “I’ve never been.”

  Laughing, Nicola added, “Well, I’ve never vacationed there. But I did have some downtime while playing spy games. I was able to take in a few tiki bars. All part of my cover. You wouldn’t believe how international terrorists like their island getaways. But I wasn’t complaining.”

  Sarah chewed her lip. “I’ve never been either.” What would she bring? A swimsuit or a chastity belt? It’d be hard to focus on rebuilding a marriage if all she wanted to do was focus on his—wait. Was she considering this? And had simply seeing him been enough to start thawing her thoughts on staying married? Because she still had the same concerns. Major concerns. She didn’t know who he really was. She needed to protect her children from the lifestyle he led.

  “So, it’s settled.” Sugar sighed. “You and Brock are rehabbing marriage in the tropical land of luxury. If I were the romantic type, I’d think this was sweet.”

  It was settled? Not sure anything was settled. “I don’t—”

  “If Cash and I ever have a major blowout, please tell him to bring me to an island.”

  Major blowout? This was more than that. She’d made the decision to separate from her husband. But she was, at least for this phone call’s sake, agreeing to give him a second chance. “I have to think about it.”

  Sugar made a humming noise. “Do you love the man, Sarah?”

  Oh no. Now the ladies were digging in deep. She couldn’t ignore them. They’d just show up on her doorstep like Brock. “Yes. I did. I mean, I don’t really know who he is.”

  “That crap again. See, Nic, I told ya.”

  “Sarah.” Nicola’s tone was no-BS. “You can be mad at someone and still love ’em. You can hate them and still love them. Forget what he did. What you think he did. Forget it all and remember just the guy. Do you want to give him a chance?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. In an instant, tears welled and dropped onto the plane ticket. She’d been a sopping, crying mess. Out of character and ridiculous.

  “Was he a good husband?”

  “He was until—”

  “Nuh-uh.” Sugar stopped her.

  “Forget his ways and means,” Nicola continued. “In your mind, define what makes a good husband and see if he tried.”

  He provided for them, like he’d promised he always would. He loved her, loved the kids, without reservation. He’d never cheat. Never so much as look at another woman. He’d kill to protect his family.

  She dropped the ticket onto the table. It was common vernacular. An everyday saying. I’d kill for a bowl of ice cream. I’d kill to protect my family. But Brock really would. And would she want it any other way?

  No. She wouldn’t. She knew that deep within her heart. So what was her holdup, and why was she running?

  “I have to go, ladies,” she whispered. Everything was clearer and more confusing than it had been before her phone had rung. “Wait, text me Mia’s phone number. I want to talk to her too.”

  “Will do.” Sarah could hear the smile in Nicola’s voice.

  “Send us a postcard,” Sugar added before the line disconnected.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Two days. It hadn’t been enough time for Sarah. Her kids continued to be thrilled with their new school and the friends they made in the neighborhood. Her mom hadn’t said much when she’d explained she was heading to Saint Lucia. But the look she gave Sarah made her feel like a teenager all over again. Her mom loved Brock. Had no idea why she’d left him and was taking his side without saying anything. Just that look. Irritating.

  Sarah had also had two very long phone calls with Mia. After repeating several times that couple’s counseling wasn’t her specialty, Mia had talked about Sarah’s abduction experience and the mental ramifications that came with that type of trauma.

  Trauma didn’t seem like the right word. At first. She’d thought about trauma in terms of emergency rooms. Lots of blood. Car accidents or school shootings. Major circumstances like that. But the more Mia talked, the better understanding Sarah had that trauma could be physical or emotional. There were people who’d been watching the Twin Towers fall from the safety of their living rooms, and they had mental and physical reactions, years later, when they saw low-flying planes. Mia called it post-traumatic stress disorder. PTSD.

  Mia also hadn’t been sure that flying to Saint Lucia was the best answer for Sarah and Brock to work out their problems, especially if there was a traumatic stress issue.

  She had thought about everything Mia had said, then spent an unhealthy amount of the day on the Internet before she’d come to the unscientific determination that Mia was right. She suffered from PTSD and had to deal with it.

  But also, the more Sarah analyzed her life before the abduction… I didn’t live. I just moved through the motions.

  Some days her husband was there. Some days he wasn’t. Sometimes she wanted more, and other days, the complacency of life was fine.

  “Final boarding call…” The overhead speaker announced her flight for the third time since she’d been in the bathroom nearest the gate, holding the sink rim and trying not to toss her breakfast.

  “You can do this.” She stared in the mirror and ignored the people eyeing her as they washed their hands. “Get on that plane.”

  She ran out the door, through a crowd of travelers to her gate. Her purse bumped under her arm, all the contents threatening to spill.

  “Wait!”

  Before the door shut, a flight attendant turned around, annoyed. “Almost missed us. Ticket?”

  Hands shaking, she pulled the ticket out. “Here.”

  A quick scan of the ticket and a fake smile, and the attendant handed her ticket back. “Enjoy your flight.”

  ***

  Brock looked out the window. The luggage had been loaded. The crew had gone through its pre-flight check. It’d been a while since he’d flown on a non-chartered flight, but the procedures were all
the same. He’d been offered a pillow, a drink, then a beverage because apparently he looked like he needed it.

  Sitting in the front row of first class, he saw every person get on the plane. None were his wife. He sank into the chair, not believing he was flying solo to paradise. First decision to make, should he drink himself back into a stupor where the Titan guys wouldn’t come kick his ass, or should he fly back and try Sarah again? He pinched his eyes shut and saw her pink smile, could smell her familiar essence. A primal, possessive roar threatened to escape. Easy decision. He’d fly back and try again.

  “Hi.” Her soft voice pulled him to the present. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Angel. The pressure grinding inside melted away. She was taking a chance on him, thank God.

  “Hey.” He jumped up to help her to her seat, unsure what steps to take. Should he hug her? Smile? Make awkward small talk?

  Sarah scooted by him, making herself small in the narrow space and clutching her purse to her chest. She collapsed into the seat and buckled in. “I almost didn’t get on.”

  “Glad you did.” Understatement of the day.

  “I talked to Mia.”

  Alrighty, no small talk. Sarah was jumping in, and he could too. “Okay.”

  “I think…” She leaned over and tucked her bag under the seat and sat up, holding his gaze. She pushed her tiny shoulders back and raised her chin. “I have some traumatic stress issues to work out.”

  Now there’s a big revelation. He saw it often with victims Titan rescued, but he never stuck around for the aftershocks. Was never part of the process after Titan declared mission accomplished. What did he say to that light bulb? Whatever it was, he sure didn’t want another reaction like when he dropped honeymoon.

  “Okay,” he murmured. So much for jumping into a conversation when all he could manage was a stupid word.

  She didn’t seem to notice his limited vocabulary. “But there’s more than traumatic fallout to work through. If we can give our relationship another chance, then I want to work on other things as well.”

  Other things? Like what? She toyed with her bottom lip. It was a familiar hesitation. There was more to come. Not entirely sure he wanted to hear it though. Seriously, there were other things to work on? News flash to him and a knock to his ego.