Extraordinarily Yours: Collection 1 (An Extraordinarily Yours Romance Book 8)

by J. Kenner

  Davy’s eyes widened as they watched the bubble form, then managed to get even bigger as Jason pushed the bubble through the water until it was right next to Davy’s head.

  Go ahead, Jason said, mouthing the words clearly and distinctly.

  His brilliant son knew exactly what he meant—and in one quick move, Davy popped his head into the bubble and took a long, deep breath.

  “Wow,” he said, his voice echoing. “Just like an astronaut.”

  Jason smiled. More points in his column.

  Above, the tentacled creature flailed on the surface, its splashing drawing Jason’s attention. At first, Jason thought the dumb creature was simply waiting for him and Davy. But then he saw a flash of brown material, and his stomach lurched.

  Lane’s voice vibrated through the water at the same instant Jason realized—“Aaron!”

  Damn. He cursed the mortal, and then immediately took it back. As much as it pained him to admit it, the lawyer had been looking out for Davy. Now Jason had to look out for him.

  One silvery tentacle grasped the mortal around the neck, pulling him under the water. Aaron struggled, but the Henchman’s grip was too much.

  Swearing, Jason pressed his hand against Davy’s shoulder, then took the boy’s hand and closed it tight around a barnacled wooden mooring. Stay here, he mouthed.

  Davy had barely nodded his agreement when Jason was up, nearing the surface. Another tentacle reached out for him, but Jason evaded, diving deeper, then flipping around. He kicked the Henchman in the gut—or what he assumed was the gut—and then grasped the tentacle holding Aaron.

  The lawyer, thank Zeus, cooperated, twisting sideways as Jason tugged, until he was completely free of the vile Henchman. The mortal clamored to the surface, gulped air, and then dove back down toward Davy. Jason tensed, wondering how the man would react to seeing the boy’s bubble helmet. But he didn’t have long to worry, because the Henchman attacked again, this time managing to catch Jason between two of its wildly flailing tentacles.

  Jason struggled, but the suction cups that lined the tentacles held fast to him. Below, he could see Aaron leading a helmet-less Davy toward the surface—and looking back at Jason with fear and determination. Damn. He needed to get free before the idiot decided to save him and managed to get caught all over again.

  His son kicked, and in the split second in which Aaron returned his attention to the boy, Jason changed. Suddenly he was a dolphin, and the tentacles’ suckers no longer adhered to his slick skin. He slid free, then flipped and aimed back toward the Henchman, ramming it in the center with his snout.

  Tentacles flailed, but Jason rammed again. And again. And then once more for good measure. The creature emitted a low howl—part pain, part frustration. One more time it lashed out, but Jason evaded, dodging the path of its tentacle and then smashing it one more time in the midsection.

  The ploy worked. The creature gave up, just as Jason had hoped. As a rule, Henchmen weren’t very bright, and they tended to be easily discouraged. This one flipped over, diving deep and then, with tentacles streaming behind it, headed away toward the open sea.

  Jason watched it go, itching to follow. One quick glance over his shoulder and up confirmed that Davy was safe. Aaron was lifting the boy out of the water and into Lane’s arms, with Boreas and Zoe standing right nearby to wrap him in a towel.

  There wasn’t a decision to make. He turned and sped toward the deep black of the ocean. He’d catch the Henchman and destroy it. In doing so, he’d send Hieronymous one damn clear message: Mess with Jason or his family, you’ll live to regret it.

  14

  Aaron sat on the deck, bundled in a robe and shivering—and not just from the ocean’s chill. Of that, Lane was certain.

  “What the hell was that thing?” he asked.

  Lane had to smile as she pulled Davy closer, rubbing her son down with a thick terry-cloth towel. Aaron had dived in without hesitation, all because he thought Davy was being attacked by some overeager sea monster.

  “A giant squid?” Aaron continued. “Have you notified the marine preserve? They should get someone out here to capture it.”

  “Already taken care of,” Zoe said. She looked at Lane. “They, uh . . . they’re sending divers.”

  “And that other guy?” Aaron continued. “Has he come back? One second he was under the water with Davy; the next, I only saw that dolphin.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Lane said. “He’s an excellent swimmer.” The truth, of course, was that Jason was long gone. She’d seen him—or rather, she’d seen the dolphin she assumed was him—follow the beast out to sea.

  “Even so,” Aaron said. “He should be back by now.”

  “Come on, Aaron,” Taylor called from the door. It was a rather transparent attempt to distract the mortal. “Let’s find you some dry clothes.”

  His eyes met Lane’s, and she nodded. “Go ahead. I’m not worried. Really.”

  “Lane . . .”

  “Go on.” She squeezed his hand. “If you stay in those wet clothes, you’ll catch cold.”

  “Me, too, Mommy?” Davy asked from beneath the bundle of towels in her arms.

  “You, too, baby.”

  Zoe held out a hand. “Come on, kiddo. How about a hot bath? The Pacific’s awfully cold.”

  “A bath?” Davy asked.

  “Consider it decompression.” Lane kissed the top of her son’s head. “All Argonauts have to decompress.”

  “Oh. Okay. Cool.” That did the trick, and Davy followed Zoe inside.

  Aaron went more reluctantly, with a promise to be right back. Lane barely even heard him. She was already at the rail, her gaze scouring the water, looking for any sign of Jason. Bubbles, fish scales, a dorsal fin, anything.

  Nothing. The water was perfectly calm, as if making up for the tumultuous moments that had just passed.

  Sighing, Lane willed herself to stay calm. Surely Jason was all right. Years ago, she’d been amazed by how comfortable he was in the water. Now that she knew he was practically a fish, she understood why.

  He was okay. He had to be. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him twice.

  She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She wouldn’t lose him twice, because he wasn’t hers. Not this time. And for exactly this reason. She wasn’t willing to risk the strain on her heart. Or on Davy’s. Not when he went racing off like this after danger.

  As she blinked back an errant tear, Aaron reappeared behind her. He was decked out in a pair of gray sweatpants and a Shamu T-shirt that Zoe must have found in Jason’s closet. He put his arm around her shoulder and she leaned against him.

  Hooking a finger under her chin, he tilted her head up and leaned forward to press his lips lightly against hers.

  Automatically, she pulled back, then immediately kicked herself for doing it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”

  He winced, a flash of hurt in his eyes. “You’re still in love with him,” he said.

  “No. No, no.” She moved back, out of his embrace, wrapping her own arms around her chest and hugging herself. “Maybe a long time ago,” she said. “Not anymore.”

  “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”

  She drew in a breath, needing to get oxygen to her brain. “It doesn’t matter. He’s not staying. Not for good.”

  Aaron quirked a brow. “No? He looks pretty attached to you. And he looks just about glued to Davy.”

  She clenched her jaw. “Yes, well, looks can be deceiving.” Aaron frowned, then glanced once more over the rail. “I know he’s a good swimmer, but I really think we should—”

  “Should what?” The voice came from below them, and Lane and Aaron both peered over.

  Jason! He was safe. Lane closed her eyes and allowed herself one silent prayer of thanks.

  Jason pulled himself halfway up the boat’s ladder and out of the water, his chest slick, droplets clinging to his arms and face. He clung there, then grabbed a tow
el from the deck before finally climbing all the way up to join them. “It got away,” he said, his face harsh and angry.

  “You shouldn’t have gone after it in the first place,” Lane snapped.

  “Are you nuts?” Jason asked, snapping right back at her. “Hieronymous sent it. Do you think I’m going to let him get away with attacking my son?”

  “Wait,” Aaron said, holding up a hand. “The grandfather sent that creature?”

  Lane crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. Jason had opened the door, he could damn well find a way to close it.

  “Jason’s dad trains marine life,” Taylor said, appearing suddenly on the patio. Lane turned to look at him, one eyebrow quirked. Taylor shrugged, just slightly, the gesture meant only for her. “We think he trained the squid to take Davy.”

  “That’s nuts,” Aaron said.

  “Dad’s a little nuts,” Jason agreed.

  “So, what does she mean you went after him?” Aaron asked. “I jumped in to help, and for a while you were there . . . then all of a sudden you were just gone.”

  “I didn’t need your help,” Jason grunted. “Because of you, I had to watch out for two people.”

  “Jason!” Lane protested. “He jumped in to save Davy.”

  “And I’m the one who got the boy out of the water when you disappeared,” Aaron added, indignant.

  Jason took a deep breath. “Look,” he began. “I appreciate you getting him back on the boat, but I went after that creature because I was trying to keep my boy safe permanently. Not just for the moment.”

  “Well, it was the moment that mattered,” Aaron muttered.

  “Stop it!” Lane held up her hands. “Both of you, just stop it.” She turned to Jason. “I’m sorry you didn’t catch him,” she said, then turned to Aaron. “And thank you for diving in to save Davy. It was very brave.” She shot Jason a sideways glance, then leaned over and kissed the corner of Aaron’s mouth. “And that’s what makes it so much harder—”

  “To ask me to leave,” he finished for her.

  She nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips. “No explanation necessary.” His glance darted toward Jason. “At least for right now. I know you’ve got things on your mind.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief, then walked with him to the door. He kissed the tip of his finger, then pressed it to her nose. Slipping over the threshold, he headed down the pier toward the parking lot.

  With a sigh, Lane closed the door behind him. The man was perfect. Brave and charming and wonderful. She didn’t love him—she had to at least be honest with herself about that—but she liked him a lot. And she respected the hell out of him.

  She was pretty sure he loved her, though. And she knew without hesitation that he adored Davy.

  And then there was Jason. He was all those things . . . and even more, she loved him. So help her, she did. But she didn’t trust him with her heart, much less with Davy’s. He’d run off again, looking for vengeance. Wouldn’t he always? Could she live with that?

  She drew in a breath, steeling herself. Right now, that didn’t matter. The one thing she was certain of was that she needed to focus all her attention on keeping her son safe until Friday.

  For that, at least, she had a plan.

  About the rest of her life, however, she was clueless.

  Davy splashed in the tub, delighting in the way Aunt Zoe giggled whenever the water caught her nose.

  “You’re a mess,” the woman said. “You know that?”

  “And a handful,” Davy agreed. “That’s what Mommy always says.”

  Uncle Taylor passed Zoe the shampoo, and Davy sank down under the water, the new breathing pen he’d created in his mouth. He hated getting shampooed. It always got in his eyes.

  “Your mom’s right,” Uncle Taylor said, his voice sounding all fuzzy and far away from under the water. He reached down and grabbed Davy under the arms, pulling him back up until Davy was sitting, bubbles from his Scooby-Doo Bubble Bath all over his face. Davy blew out a breath, and the bubbles flew through the air. One of them landed on Zoe’s nose, and Uncle Taylor laughed.

  Zoe quirked an eyebrow, just like Mr. Spock. “Too much of a handful for you?” she asked.

  Her husband shook his head. “No way. One six-year-old, I can handle.”

  “I’m almost seven,” Davy said.

  “You sure are,” Taylor said, coming at him with a washcloth. Davy squealed and tried to dive back under the water, but Taylor had him tight. He ended up giggling and kicking and getting both his bathers and the bathroom floor soaked.

  “I’m glad you’re up for the challenge,” Aunt Zoe said, putting her hand on Uncle Taylor’s arm. “Because there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” She pressed her lips together, waiting for Davy and Taylor to both quit splashing at each other. “You see,” she said, “I’m—”

  “Hey, kiddo. You getting all clean?” The door opened, and Jason came in.

  Davy bobbed his head. “Uh-huh,” he said, still wondering what Aunt Zoe had been going to say. She sighed and sat back on her heels.

  Jason looked at the floor, and then at Aunt Zoe and Uncle Taylor’s soaked clothes. “I guess you’re getting everything else clean, too, huh?”

  “It’s more fun that way,” Davy said. Then he bit on his lower lip, remembering that this was Mr. Jason’s bathroom, and maybe Mr. Jason didn’t like when little boys played and made a mess. “I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up. I promise.”

  But Jason just laughed. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo. I’ve been known to do some serious splashing myself.”

  “Really?”

  Jason nodded. “Really.” He put a hand on Davy’s head, then looked at Taylor. “There’s a phone call for you. I think it’s Hoop.”

  Taylor nodded, then climbed to his feet and headed for the door. He stopped long enough to wave ’bye to Davy, then looked at Zoe. “Did you want to tell me something, sweetheart?”

  Zoe just sighed again and climbed to her feet. Davy thought she looked a little green. “No.” She shook her head. “It can wait. I’m going to go take a nap.”

  As Davy’s aunt and uncle left, Jason moved over and knelt by the tub. He scooped his hand through the water and gathered a pile of foam, then blew it, sending bubbles flying though the air.

  Davy laughed and reached up to pop the bubbles. “Do more, Mr. Jason.”

  “You know, you can call me Daddy.”

  “I know,” Davy mumbled. He kind of wanted to. Really he did. But he just couldn’t quite do it. Instead, he slid under the water, then popped back up, sending more bubbles flying.

  Jason laughed.

  “That was really cool,” Davy said. “What you did, I mean. The underwater helmet and then fighting that monster. Are those the kinds of things you’re gonna teach me?”

  “Sort of,” Jason said. “The Council wants you to learn how to use your powers. So, we’ll work on all the basic ones. Levitation and speed and agility. And I’ll show you how to work a Propulsion Cloak. I’m going to teach you everything I can, and hopefully that’ll make the Council happy.”

  “Really? Cool.”

  “That means I’ll be around for a while,” he added. “Is that okay?”

  “Sure,” Davy said. “I like you. And you like my mom.” Jason smiled, but Davy thought he still seemed a little sad—probably because Davy still hadn’t called him daddy. He held out his breathing pen. “Here. This is for you.”

  “A ballpoint pen?”

  “No, silly.” Davy rolled his eyes. “You breathe with it.” He remembered Jason’s fight with the Henchman monster. “But I guess you don’t really need something like this.”

  “Nonsense,” Jason said. “I love it.” He took a couple of quick breaths from the pen. “It’s fabulous.”

  Davy grinned. “I can make you more stuff, too.”

  “I’d like that,” his dad said, then held up a towel. “Come on. Your mother’s going t
o think you turned into a fish. And I bet your breakfast is getting cold.”

  Davy got up and let his father wrap the towel around him. “Mr. Jason?” he said, still thinking about the daddy word. “I’m sorry.”

  For just a second, Jason looked surprised. Then he smiled, shook his head, and pulled Davy into a hug. When he pushed Davy back again and looked into his face, Jason didn’t seem nearly as sad. “No, Davy,” he said. “I’m the one who’s sorry.” And before Davy could ask what he meant, Jason was standing up and handing him his robe. “Come on, kiddo,” he said. “Let’s go have some breakfast.”

  “Professor Plum, in the Conservatory, with the rope,” Jason said. He leaned forward over the game board, meeting Davy’s very serious eyes. “How about it, sport? Can you prove me wrong?”

  Davy shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Hmmm.” Jason tapped his cards. He wasn’t entirely sure he knew who did it, but he was reasonably certain. Plus, he knew Lane was getting close, too.

  And Jason did want to win.

  “Okay,” he said. “I’m going for it.” He reached to the center of the game board, took the little envelope, and popped out the cards—Professor Plum, the kitchen, and the rope. Hopping Hera. He’d lost.

  Beside him, Boreas shook his head.

  Jason glared at him. “You have something you want to say?”

  “Nope,” Boreas said. He took a bite of the mac and cheese Jason had thrown together for dinner. “Except . . .”

  Lane and Taylor laughed, but Jason just scowled.

  “Except what?” he asked.

  “Except that you’re going about it all wrong. Didn’t you pay attention during Protector training?”

  “Will I get training, too?” Davy asked, distracting everyone.

  “Absolutely,” Jason said. He met Lane’s eyes. “First me, here. And when you’re older, you get to go to training camp.” Davy looked at Boreas. “Did you go to camp?”

  “Yup.” The cadet sat up straighter, his chest sticking out. “First in my class.”

  “Wow,” Davy said, and Jason hid a sneer. “What about Aunt Zoe?” Davy added.