The Titan Series: Military Romance Boxed Set

by Cristin Harber

  Brock crept pass the now-boarded-up front door and headed to the kitchen. Kitchen counters were the universal landing zones for keys, right? But he’d have to pass the threshold to the parlor.

  The soccer game caused a round of boos, and he made his move. As if his prayers had been answered, a pile of keys was strewn on the counter. He pocketed all the keys. No need for anyone else to have transportation. Too bad there wasn’t a cache of weapons sitting on the table along with a bottle of water and a burger.

  He maneuvered out of the kitchen, listening for the soccer game to give him cover. A footstep creaked on the stairs, and he pushed against the wall, unable to see who was coming. Brock’s eyes dropped to a blood-smeared wall. Shit. The reddish marks were a telltale sign that he wasn’t handcuffed to a wall anymore.

  Another step on the stairs. Soft. Nearly a figment of his imagination, but he trusted his instincts and stayed against the wall.

  Click.

  The din wasn’t the hammer of a gun, readying to fire. Nor was it an electronic switching off. The click was a familiar, radio-silence sound. A soft tut meant to share information or gain attention. Brock took a step, uncertainty scratching at his thoughts.

  What the hell?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Brock’s jaw fell. Jared stood midway up the stairs. He was the last person on earth Brock expected. By the furrowed brow and nasty glare, he could tell Boss Man wanted to be in Saint Lucia about as much as Brock had wanted Sarah on an extraction operation.

  A quick exchange of familiar hand gestures, and Jared traversed down the stairs and met Brock against the wall.

  “Hey, asshole.”

  “Boss Man.” It came out automatically and hit Brock in the gut so hard he flinched. “Jared.”

  Jared nodded. “You can thank your wife.”

  “She’s a keeper.” As long as she’ll stay married.

  They exchanged a rundown of intel and passed the parlor during an eruption of soccer cheers. They pushed out the side door. Brock pulled out a set of keys, hit the unlock button to see which set of headlights would flash. There were Jeeps along the side and back of the house, and Jared caught sight of the flashing lights and pointed.

  They ducked and ran to the Jeep. Brock jumped into the driver’s seat, and he turned the ignition as Jared shut the passenger door. They flew down the driveway while Jared directed him to his stashed vehicle. No telling if the Jeep had a tracking device or was rigged to blow. They needed to ditch it as soon as they were clear.

  Brock kept the pedal pushed to the floorboard until the road ended. They jumped out and ran through the underbrush until Jared flagged him to stop. A Range Rover was covered netting and branches, and they peeled the camouflage off of it. Another minute later, they had jumped in and were rolling down a hill before they finally bounced onto a road.

  Awkward silence hung between them. Brock’s legs throbbed. He was covered in sweat and could smell the stench of his dried blood.

  His throat was dry, and he needed to tend to his legs. “Got a first aid kit in this rig?”

  “Nothing worth your time. But it’s in the back.”

  Brock reached over and found it tucked behind his seat. The contents sucked. A few bandages, couple tubes of ointments, and smelling salts. A few bottles of water rolled on the floor, and he cracked one open. Finishing it in a couple gulps, he grabbed another one then peeled his shredded pants legs back.

  The torn skin was red and swollen. He needed a shot of antibiotics and a whole lot of antibacterial cream.

  “When you get a sec, pull over. I gotta douse my legs.”

  “Roger that.”

  A few miles ahead, Jared pulled into a decent defensive position, and Brock opened his door. Tearing the pants legs into shorts, he washed his shredded skin down and smeared the ointment tubes over the worst of his wounds. Hot fire scored across the cuts, and his breaths labored. Each leg pulsed. Brock had enough of a medical background that he knew a doctor was needed on the quick. He shook it off and crawled back into his seat.

  Jared gave him a once-over. “What the hell happened?”

  “Dogs.”

  He nodded and gave a knowing laugh. “Hate attack dogs.”

  “At least the girls got out. The kid’s going to be okay? Sarah’s good?”

  “The kid’s good. Considering. Your wife’s bossy. Pretty much grabbed me by the nuts and dragged me here.”

  Brock chuckled. Jared had a soft spot for direct women who made demands. “Guess I owe her for that.”

  “Yup. You do.”

  Because Boss Man wouldn’t have come for me if it hadn’t been for Sarah. He could’ve gotten out, but the job had been a lot easier after Jared arrived with his vehicle. “This is going to be an awkward drive back.”

  “Yup.” Jared cracked his knuckles. “Thanks for the kid though.”

  “Yeah. No problem.”

  Miles passed as they curved around the island road. Brock checked the dashboard clock. Great. Fifteen minutes have passed.

  Jared cleared his throat. “So the guys said you’ve been a mess. Trying to kill yourself with the bottle. Sugar said Sarah left you.”

  “Sounds about right. Thanks for the recap.” Jackass. He swallowed away the desire for a strong drink and cracked another bottle of water instead.

  “I wanted you dead,” Jared grumbled.

  “I don’t blame you, but I had my reasons.”

  Jared yanked the steering wheel. The Rover came to a hard stop on a sandy shoulder. He leaned across the confines of the car, pointing his finger into Brock’s chest. “You screwed up, man. You are the rule follower. You know the right move when everyone around you wants to make the wrong one. What happened to you?”

  “Christ, man.” Brock scrubbed his hands into his hair. “What do you want from me?”

  “A goddamn explanation.”

  “Simple. My family was in danger. Nothing would stop me. It spiraled out of control. I hate how it went down. But there’s the test of loyalty. Pit my family against Titan, and my family wins. I didn’t question it.”

  Jared snarled at him. “I didn’t even know you had a wife and kids. My second-in-command, the dude I’ve worked with for more than a decade, didn’t trust me with that kind of intel?”

  “Seemed safer that way.” I was wrong though.

  “You’re a moron.”

  Brock checked the clock again. Only another hour and thirty minutes until they were back at the resort. He shifted in his seat, and his legs throbbed.

  “But Sugar’s got a different take than I do,” Jared grumbled.

  “She’s got a different take on life.” What was there to say? Glad you married the woman I almost killed. Sorry I abducted your now-wife.

  “Yeah.” Jared’s knuckles pinked as he strangled the steering wheel. “You want to know what she says?”

  “Not really.”

  “Don’t blame you. That woman’s a ballbuster.” Jared laughed. Real and honest. “But she doesn’t think you should be dead.”

  Not what Brock expected. “Why?”

  “No idea. Far as I’m concerned, you should be six feet under.”

  “You plan on taking care of that anytime soon?”

  Jared opened his car door, and warm air rushed in as he got out. Great. Exactly what he needed. Brock followed out the passenger door. Whatever they would hash out, be it scheduling his payback or coming to an understanding, he didn’t want to do it while standing. His legs hurt too bad.

  “How we gonna do this, Jared?”

  Jared spun and glared. “I should kill you.”

  “You’ve never been all talk, man. What’s it going to be?”

  With his fists clenched at his sides, Boss Man stepped to him. Chest to chest, they squared off. “I don’t trust you.”

  “You shouldn’t.” Brock had never seen Jared stumble for what to do before.

  Fury ripped across Boss Man’s face. “I blew up your house.”

  What? “In plac
e of what, killing me? Or that just to piss Sarah off so she doesn’t have a home to go to after my funeral?”

  A tiny smile cracked across Jared’s face, but he shut it down with a foul glare. “We’ve been through years’ worth of fighting side by side. And shit, I get the do-anything-to-save-your-girl concept.”

  The explanation for not executing Brock was about as close to a heart-to-heart as Jared would ever have. My turn… what to say? “I knew that you’d get to Sugar before anyone hurt her.”

  “Maybe you did. Maybe you didn’t. That’s not the point.”

  “So what is?”

  “Titan. Our team. We’re fuckin’ family.”

  The reminder was a twisting knife to his gut. “Yup.”

  “But the house is a goner. That pretty truck of yours is too.”

  Such a Boss Man thing to do. Brock almost had to laugh.

  Jared blew out through clenched teeth. “I needed to destroy something before I came here to scoop your ass up. Otherwise, maybe you would be dead right now. We aren’t even. But we’re as good as we’re going to get at the moment.” He growled. “And I need to thank you. You took the kill shot when I couldn’t. For everything you screwed up on our last job, you also saved Sugar’s life. Thanks.”

  Brock stood there, nothing to say. He never expected a thank you and wasn’t sure he deserved one.

  Jared marched toward the driver’s door. “What’s your problem? Get in the damn Rover.”

  He pivoted toward Boss Man. “This has been too simple. I mean, hell, man. I deserve worse.”

  “Well, get in the car. You’ll have Sugar to deal with soon enough. She might not want you dead, but she does want five minutes with you. Alone. Death might be the easier option.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Calming her nerves, Sarah sipped her strawberry daiquiri while she and Sugar lounged by the pool. They’d put Bethany on a private jet back to her parents earlier, and it was time to unwind. If she could. But Jared had been gone for hours, and anxiety whispered awful thoughts to her.

  Sugar plopped on the lounge chair next to her. “Always wanted to come here on vacation. Think we’ll stay a few days.” She narrowed her gaze at Sarah chewing the end of her straw. “Relax. They’ll be fine. Both getting Brock out safely and working out their man crap.”

  “Maybe.” She gnawed on the straw, took another long sip, and gnawed again. She needed to focus on something entirely different. The men would be fine. Working herself up wouldn’t help a thing. “I think I’m going to find a job when I get home. Assuming Brock and I work out some details. No idea what he’s going to do, but the girls and I aren’t hiding anymore. They’ll be in school, I’ll be… doing something.”

  Sugar swallowed a huge gulp of her drink. “Yeah, about that. When you say home, it might be more figuratively than literally.”

  Sarah raised her eyebrows. “What’s that mean?”

  “Jared blew your house up. Big-time. Huge explosion. Ka-blam-ie.”

  “What?” She choked over her daiquiri. “He did what?”

  “Sorry, chickadee. Boys will be boys and all.”

  Sarah started laughing. She couldn’t stop. Her life was insane. Their existence was completely ridiculous.

  Sugar frowned. “It’s not really funny. I’m being serious. I tried to stop him but—”

  Sarah put her hand out to shush Sugar. Tears streamed down her face. It is that funny.

  “Sarah, are you okay? Don’t crack up on me.” Sugar put her drink down and clapped in Sarah’s face. “Oh my God, I’m going to have to call Mia or something. Snap out of it.”

  She tried for a breath, but it turned into a snort. Then she started laughing all over again. It felt great.

  Sugar covered her mouth. A bright lipstick-covered smile peeked out from behind her fingers. Then she laughed too. They laughed and drank and laughed some more.

  Finally, Sarah shook her head. “I hated that house. I didn’t want to go back there anyway. Starting new will be awesome. New house. New school. Hell, new marriage.”

  A pool boy brought them fresh drinks.

  “But you’re keeping Brock, right?” Sugar slurped the last of her drink and grabbed the new one.

  “Yeah, but we’re going to try to keep things a little more exciting.” She wagged her brows.

  Sugar clapped again. “Good for you.”

  “Now I just need a job and—”

  She sat upright. Excitement bubbled onto her face. “Come work at GUNS!”

  “What?” Sarah laughed, shaking her head. “Me at your gun range? My last visit there was traumatic, and I barely know a pistol from a rifle. You don’t want me.”

  “I’m serious. I need a little help around the office. Some marketing stuff. I want to play with logos, branding. Things are changing a little since I left the ATF, and, ya know, it’d be fun.”

  Fun? “I can…” Other than Brock, she hadn’t let anyone know she could draw and design. “I can do artistic stuff.”

  Sugar bounced in her seat. “Perfect. Decision made. You can work with me.”

  “What the heck?” The decision was liberating. “All right. I’ll do it.”

  Sugar sat back in her lounger. “The boys are gonna love this. And look, here they come.”

  Sarah glanced over her shoulder. Brock limped in clean, baggy pants next to Jared. They rounded the corner of the pool, and she giggled watching just as many people jump out of their way as stared at them. They looked like action figures crashing a beach party.

  Sugar bounced up. “J-dawg.”

  “Baby cakes.” He hooked an arm around her. “Didn’t know you packed a bikini.”

  “Yup, did that while you were running around, placing C4 charges in their kitchen.”

  He glared at her. “Sorry about that, Sarah.”

  She shrugged. “I’m good.”

  Brock’s jaw dropped. “You’re good?”

  She nodded. “Gives us an excuse to move closer to GUNS. I work there now.”

  “What?” Both men were in unison.

  Sugar laughed. Sarah did too. Talk about shocking two guys who thought nothing fazed ’em. As if on cue, the pool boy walked up and offered pink frozen drinks. Jared took his. Brock waved his away.

  For the first time, Sarah was completely relaxed. She kicked back on her lounger, grabbed her daiquiri, and closed her eyes. All would be okay.

  EPILOGUE

  Three months later

  This was Sarah’s second trip to Saint Lucia. Last time, she’d been nervous, unsure, and a little crazy. Maybe a lot crazy. Who knew? But this time, she knew what she wanted, and it was her man to come back from his shopping excursion. She checked out the clock again. Brock should be back any minute.

  Tonight they would renew their wedding vows. Their kids were with Grandma now. A slew of Titan and GUNS friends were on the island too. But right now, Brock and Sarah had the afternoon alone and were revisiting their shopping list. They’d intentionally skipped ropes and ice cream on their at-home to-do list, waiting until they came back there. Seemed corny at first, but at this moment, it seemed hot.

  The door lock unlocked, and her stomach jumped. Sarah sat on the bed, legs tucked under her, with nothing on but a grin. “Took you long enough.”

  “Turns out, I had to go to two different stores.” He held up a container of vanilla ice cream and a bundle of rope. “And you, angel, get to pick which one we play with first.”

  “Ice cream.” She giggled and bounced on her knees. “And rope.”

  His eyes were trained on her chest then drifted downward. “Whatever you say.”

  Brock tossed the rope onto the bed and ripped off his shirt. His erection pressed evidently into his pants, and she reached for him, stroking him.

  “On your stomach.”

  “Stomach?”

  He raised his brows. “Do it.”

  She flipped over but kept her gaze trained on him. He smiled and used a tactical knife to unbind the rope then cut the r
ope into strips. Methodically, he laid them at the foot of the bed. Excitement buzzed through her body as she stared at the four-poster bed. Her heart beat faster with each second she waited for him to pay attention to her.

  Brock climbed onto the bed, straddling her naked legs, and walked his hands up her thighs, her bottom, her back. His palms flattened against her shoulder blades, and their heat burned clear into her heart.

  Arousal pounded inside her, waiting for his next move. Both her arms were tucked by her side, and he took her left arm, slowly moving it to reach in front of her, then did the same with her right.

  He leaned forward to kiss her neck. She shivered from anticipation and would kill to have more contact. But that was also part of the fun. His hands snaked up her biceps then forearms. One hand grabbed both her wrists while the other wrapped a line of rope around and around, securing her hands together.

  “Such a beautiful body,” he growled, still hovering over her.

  Brock shifted off of her, opening the ice cream container and unbuckling his pants. The two sounds stole her breath. Wetness dampened between her legs, and a throbbing need for his touch made her almost delirious.

  Sarah turned her head to face him.

  “Close your eyes, angel.” A devilish smile flashed. “Or don’t.”

  A second later, he had pulled a silk pillowcase off a pillow and tied it over her eyes. His rough hands drifted down her back, stopping on the swell of her bottom. Strong fingers flexed and massaged. He bent over her, his tongue tracing an imaginary pattern on her skin. His teeth scraped along her side. Her skin reacted, so sensitive and aching for whatever he would do next.

  A frozen surprise touched her calf. A heavy spoon ladled with ice cream dragged up the back of her leg. Melting streams slid on her skin. Larger scoops stayed in place, slowly melting ice cream drops on either side of her calves and thighs.

  The sensations tickled down her leg, making her toes flutter and fan. A shiver ran up her spine. Icy coldness heated her mind. Then his tongue licked a liquid tendril off her calf. Strong, hard hands bent her leg at the knee, bringing her ankle to his mouth. Brock kissed, licked, and lapped at ice cream as it slid down to the backs of her knees.