by Em Petrova
As his hips gave a final pump, he cradled her against his chest.
Her senses returned after another minute or so, and she felt at one with the universe in a way that made her want to dance naked around a field or something equally as crazy.
She was in love.
“Nash.”
He pulled back and half-rolled off her, looking into her eyes. Damn, he was a gorgeous man. She traced his square jaw with a fingertip, marveling at how such a hard man, a man who was capable of protecting their country, could be so tender with her.
She had to say what was on her mind. “You’re worried that you won’t have the time to give, yet you’ve taken advantage of every minute we’ve had together.”
He nodded. “God help me, I couldn’t stop myself in Mexico. Something about you…” His gaze wandered over her hair, which he twisted around his fingers, and finally rested on her eyes.
“Something about you too,” she whispered, her throat closing off.
Leaning in, he brushed his lips over her forehead. “I’m trying to take it slow with you, but damn if I don’t want to wake up next to you in my bed.”
Her stomach gave a wild dip of joy. “Well… maybe I wanna wake up in your bed.”
When Nash Sullivan gave one of his rare grins, she couldn’t hold back—she fell the rest of the way in love with him.
* * * * *
“As much as I want to fuck you until you can’t sit comfortably in that saddle, I’ll let you get dressed.” Nash handed Nevaeh’s top to her. She took it with a coy smile and pulled it over her head. Even clothed, the effect she had on him was devastating. He might as well have been caught in a bomb blast.
He gave a light shake of his head. Taking it slow with Nevaeh seemed essential. He was a tactical guy, a planner.
But even he knew that sometimes you made shit up on the fly, and that seemed to be the case with this enticing woman.
Still, he couldn’t fill his Jeep with all her belongings and sweep her off to his apartment either. He had to give her the time to understand his life—and back out if she couldn’t handle it.
Start slow, he thought. Dinner, a movie, maybe cop a feel or three…
Then kiss her goodbye at her front door and text her when he got home.
All this seemed the right course for a couple that was newly dating. But even he was aware of his feelings for her enough to know their bond had run deep from the start. Their first date had been over tamales in a hostel room and solidified when he broke through her tough exterior time and again.
He scuffed at his jaw, feeling the rasp of five o’clock shadow. Hell, what now? According to Downs, he might not even have a job next week, if the Pentagon decided Ranger Ops wasn’t needed. He’d be lucky to get his position back as Texas Ranger—those spots were snatched up quickly. He knew for a fact Woody’s position had already been filled in Austin.
Nash had no business asking more from Nevaeh right now. Slow was best.
Essential.
Dammit.
Just looking at the beautiful woman half turned from him, her hair tumbling over her shoulder as she bent to hitch on her cowgirl boot, had him aching with something sweeter than he’d ever felt in his life.
As she straightened, she shot him a grin. Thank God she didn’t know all the thoughts pouring through his head or she’d run for her life.
He whistled to the horses, and they came trotting back to them. Nevaeh combed her fingers through her mount’s mane, cooing to it in a soft tone. When she caught Nash staring at her, she gave him a quizzical smile.
“Do you think I’m crazy baby-talking a horse?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. I think you’re beautiful and sweet to the core. I have no damn clue what you’re doing with me, but I’m not going to argue.”
Her smile and the glow in her eyes—hell, the glow all over her body after that orgasm that had shaken them both—had him falling hard, fast and deep.
They rode back to the paddock in quiet companionship. Along the way, he pointed out the hidden head of a trail he’d take her on next time, and that made her smile. Damn, he wanted to put that happiness in her eyes every damn second of her life.
As soon as he slid out of the saddle to open the gate and lead the horses through, he sensed a charge in the air. The second his sixth sense kicked in, his phone vibrated with a text.
He pulled it out and stared at the screen. Lang’s message flashed into view.
Called in to Fort Worth. Be sure to close the gate.
“Asshole,” he said softly and with affection at his friend’s repeated order, as if Nash would ever forget to care for the horses.
It felt odd, too, knowing that he wasn’t expected on the scene. He stared at the screen another second before looking up to find Nevaeh looking at him with a crease between her brows.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Lang was called out to an incident. We’ll just get the horses settled and then lock up for him.”
She nodded. While they removed the saddles and tack from the horses and set them free in the paddock, Nash didn’t realize how silent he was, or that it was causing concern in Nevaeh.
She rested a hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”
“My alarms are buzzin’,” he said at once. Confiding that was new for him.
“What can you do? I can call a cab and get myself home if you want to go to the scene.”
He shook his head. “No, I’ll drive you home. I’m not a Texas Ranger anymore, and they’re covered. They don’t need me. It’s just odd, knowing about a call and not being there for it.”
They left after he checked the gate one last time. In the Jeep, he considered putting on the scanner to hear what was going on, but he refrained. Nevaeh didn’t need to hear that and be on edge with worry.
When they reached her home, he parked out front and turned to her. “I’m glad you came riding with me today.”
She smiled. “Me too. When will I see you again?”
“Soon. I just have this feeling, and I think I’m going to head to the scene whether I’m wanted or not.”
“All right. Will you let me know you’re okay?”
“As soon as possible.” He leaned in and kissed her, and her lips softened under his in invitation that he ached to explore. But he had to get this weight off his shoulders first and check in.
She drew away, her eyes shining, and opened the door. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
He nodded. Driving away from her was a wrench for him, but his mind turned immediately to his task at hand. He put in a call to the station and got the details. An address in a lowly part of the city, which wasn’t a surprise. They often dealt with robberies, shootings and more in that section.
After some considerable drive time, Nash’s molars ached from grinding his teeth. His phone rang, and he pressed a button to put it on speakerphone. The streets were clogged with traffic, and frustration was mounting. He barked out, “Sullivan.”
“It’s Shaw.” Woody’s drawl came thickly through the speakers. “Did you hear?”
“Hear what? Did we get a call?” Why wasn’t he getting it first? If Ranger Ops was needed, he should have been notified long ago.
“No. I was talking about the robbery and the shooting.”
Nash’s stomach hollowed out. He fucking knew he should have been there. Another gun on the area, especially his, would have probably stopped someone from being wounded or a fatality.
“I haven’t heard. I’m on my way there now.”
“You’re close with Lang, right?”
Dread crept over Nash, tightening the skin on his skull. “Yeah,” he heard himself say from far away and through a sudden drumming in his ears.
Woody was silent a moment.
“What do you know, Woody? Fucking say it.” He didn’t want to hear it, because he already knew.
“Lang was shot and killed about ten minutes ago.”
Fury rushed Nash’s system, and he slammed his
fist into the dash. “Goddammit!”
His friend, mentor, an older brother or father figure. Shot and killed, when he should have been tucked safely behind his desk, resting his arthritic knees.
What a fucking waste of a life.
“I’m sorry, Sully. I wanted to be the first to tell you, so you weren’t blindsided.” Woody’s voice rang with regret.
“Thanks,” he grated out. “I’m almost there now. I’ll be in touch.” Nash’s throat clogged with the need to bellow his rage. He clamped his fingers on the wheel. The minute he got that shooter in his sights, the man was fucking dust, because Nash was going to pump him full of so much lead.
Dammit. Lang. Why Lang?
He didn’t go to calls often anymore. Was it Nash’s teasing about being a desk jockey that had sent him there?
“Fucking hell!” he yelled into the quiet of his vehicle. All these years he’d looked up to Lang. Had he told him so? Had he given the man the farewell he should have? Hell, he’d thought they were just riding out on the trails and he’d see his buddy in an hour or two. Life was abrupt and cruel at times, and this was one of those.
Nash yanked his hat lower to cover his emotion, even though nobody was here to witness it. His first real bond with another Texas Ranger had been with Lang. Now that was broken, shattered forever in a senseless crime.
Even as the loss hit him like a blast, he realized another man had been there for him. Woody had called to break the news to him, and that said a hell of a lot about what Nash had in Ranger Ops.
When he reached the scene of the robbery, his phone began to blow up with calls and texts from Jess, Cavanagh, Lennon and Linc.
Nash didn’t read the texts or listen to the voicemails—he knew what they said already.
What those men really said was that they were there for Nash, in the same way Lang had been all these years. He’d traded one team for another, and in that moment, he knew no matter what dangerous missions they faced, they’d be doing it together.
Chapter Nine
The problem with Texas was the weather never did cooperate. Either it was storming its balls off and cold when it should be summer weather, or it was a perfect eighty degrees with a cloudless blue sky when you were burying your good friend. Nash sent a glare toward the sky. Goddammit, it should be raining to reflect his mood.
The bugler stood straight and tall, the notes of Taps rolling over Nash and forcing him to blink back his emotion. Lang’s coffin was lowered into the ground and the flag folded, along with a sash someone’s wife had embroidered with the Texas Rangers symbol. Each of the men Lang had worked with signed it.
Nash clenched his fist at his side, still feeling that marker in his hand as he’d scribbled his name on a note to his friend for the last time. Today, they were sending him off in style.
One of the men stepped up to the hole in the ground, scooped up a handful of dirt and scattered it over the coffin.
Nash hung back, letting everyone go before him, buying more time. Lang wouldn’t want him grieving for long—he’d tell him to grab life by the reins and ride on, and Nash intended to after today.
Seeing everyone had taken their turn saying farewell, he peered at the hole. Finality swept him.
Stepping forward, he sank his hand into the dirt. The dry, crumbly ground filled his fingers, a few grains escaping from between his knuckles. He stared down at the dirt-strewn coffin. Pain was a jagged edge in his chest.
“Behave yourself, man, ya hear? And don’t worry about your horses—I’ll make sure they have the care they need.” Lang employed a guy to come and help anyway, and Nash would pay him to continue doing that duty. It was the least he could do.
As he opened his hand, releasing the dirt down into the hole, his throat closed off. Then he nodded hard, as if he was answering something Lang had told him. Since he knew just what his friend would be telling him—to give ’em hell, to live for pleasure and love hard—he would try his best to meet those expectations.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, he moved away from the hole, brushing off his hand on his suit pants. He headed toward the parking lot, and his phone vibrated.
It could be Nevaeh again, checking up on him. Her concern was touching, and damn if it didn’t make him feel closer to her. To him, it seemed like one of those ‘through good times and bad’ moments they talked about at weddings.
He’d declined her offer to join him for the funeral, though, wanting to get through it alone. When he drew out his phone and glanced at the text from Woody, he was surprised to see an address there—nothing else.
He got behind the wheel of his Jeep. When he punched the number into his GPS, he started laughing.
Well, he wasn’t exactly dressed for bowling, but he’d make do. Burning off some of the day’s stress with Shaw was just what he needed. Maybe have a beer or two as well.
As he drove to the bowling alley, he stopped being mad at the weather for betraying him. Lang had been an important part of his life for years, and that wouldn’t change. Nash wouldn’t be the man he was today without that Texas Ranger’s input. He’d shaped Nash from day one, primed him to be the best.
And he wouldn’t let him down with Ranger Ops.
When he arrived at his destination and entered the bowling alley, he spotted not only Woody but the other guys as well. A grin spread over his face. They came forward to thump him on the back and grip hands with him in a bro-shake. Their support touched him.
Lennon gave Nash the once-over. “You forgot your bowling shirt.”
He started to take off his jacket. “I’ll remember next time.” He rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt and removed his tie. With his shirt collar unbuttoned and his best cowboy boots replaced with garish bowling shoes, he was comfortable enough to bowl a strike or two.
The guys had two lanes already and their names were up on the scoreboards. Nash stopped a moment, staring up at their combined names.
The six of them were a family, newly formed but no less important to each other.
And Nash was damn proud to be leading them all.
* * * * *
When Nevaeh stepped out of the office to see the hottest guy holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, her heart tumbled. As she moved toward Nash, she got that weak-kneed feeling she always did around him.
He held out the flowers, and she took them, dropping her nose to inhale the sweet scents.
“Thank you.” She lifted her gaze to his, and warmth bloomed in her core.
“I hope you don’t have plans. I’d like to take you out.”
She shook her head. “Not unless you call watching cooking shows with my parents plans.”
He chuckled. “I think you can catch the reruns.”
Excitement made her tingle. “Where are we going? Am I dressed okay?” Her office attire of black pants and a brightly-colored blouse wasn’t exactly fit for extravagant dinners out or riding.
“You’re perfect.” He leaned in and kissed her lips, stealing her breath. When she inhaled again, she caught the notes of musk and man, the combination devastating to her.
Drawing back, he gave her one of those rare crooked smiles. He opened his mouth to say something but went still. “Damn,” he said softly. He drew his phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen.
By his expression, she knew it wasn’t what he wanted to see.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m called out, darlin’.” His eyes met hers. “I’m sorry. I’m going to have to postpone tonight.”
“I understand.”
He cupped her cheek, and she felt the tension already humming through him, like he was a jet engine ready for takeoff. She placed her hand on his chest, over his strong heart. “Go,” she said softly. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
“Damn, I don’t know how I found you. You’re damn perfect, you know that?” He stamped his mouth over hers, hard. Bruising.
Claiming.
She parted her lips on a gasp, a
nd he plunged his tongue in, sweeping over hers with a promise that left her jittery and aching. When he pulled back as abruptly as he’d kissed her, he crushed her to his chest and bowed his nose to her hair. “I hate that this is how it will be, me leaving on a moment’s notice.”
“Nash, it’s okay. I understand. My boyfriend’s out saving the world. We’ll have that date when you return.” Going on tiptoe, she kissed him again with all the sweet longing inside her. “Be safe.”
He released her, his hand still hovering around her waist as if he wanted to grab her back. He took a step off the sidewalk toward his vehicle. “I’ll call you the minute I’m back.”
“Okay.” She clutched her flowers, since she couldn’t hold the man who’d given them to her.
He reached his Jeep, and she watched him climb inside. Suddenly, he rolled down the passenger’s window and leaned over to call out to her.
“Did you just call me your boyfriend?”
Her grin spreading across her face felt so good. “Yes, I did. Now go save the world, Nash.”
Grinning back, he rolled the window up. She watched him drive away.
Yes, it was undeniable. She was in love with that man. Sure, they had hurdles to leap and plenty more get-to-know-you dates to experience, but that was like the cream filling in the donut for her.
Back in the house, she placed her flowers in water. When her mother came into the kitchen, she was surprised to find Nevaeh standing there. “Lovely flowers, but where’s the man?”
“He got called out to work.” She felt her brow crease with worry. What dangers would he be facing? She couldn’t imagine barreling full-force into situations like that day after day. Surely, it would take a toll on the men and women who performed those duties. Nash seemed stoic, with a stiff upper lip. Though she didn’t know everything there was to know about the man, she knew things affected him and he refused to talk about it.
Like losing his friend Lang or coming home without Antonio.
If she was going to be a good girlfriend, she needed to find ways to help him work through those rough points in his life and find peace.
