by Anna Blakely
Calling upon every ounce of strength he had, he shrugged casually and spit out, “Like you said. This has been fun.”
He turned and started for his truck. God, he felt sick to his soul. He’d been planning today for weeks. Had saved every extra penny he could to buy her the perfect ring.
The ring.
With a sudden urgency to be rid of the damn thing, Matt shoved his hand in his pocket and pulled it out. Chest heaving, his nose and eyes burned as he stared down at it resting in his open palm.
Bile churned deep inside his belly as all his hopes and dreams of a future—a future with Kat—were shattered in an instant.
“I guess I won’t be needing this anymore.” He tossed the ring at her.
Not expecting it, Kat fumbled to catch the small piece of jewelry. When she opened her hand and saw what it was, she gasped.
“Matt.” His name escaped on a whisper, more tears spilling over as she lifted her eyes back to his. “W-what…”
Her voice cracked again, and it was clear she had no idea what to say. Guilt, shame, and pain intermingled behind the eyes that, less than twenty minutes ago, Matt thought he’d find looking back at him for the rest of his life.
Now as he stood there with his heart lying at his feet, he realized he couldn’t stand to stare into those same eyes a second longer.
“Have a nice life, Katherine”
Without another word, he walked away from the girl he’d planned a future with. One who owned him, heart and soul.
Each step brought with it a new sense of pain and anger. Devastation unlike anything he’d ever known damn near broke him, and it was all he could do to not run back to her and beg her for another chance.
Instead he got into his truck and drove. For hours, Matt drove everywhere and nowhere, tears falling as he wracked his tortured brain to come up with the signs he had to have missed. Something that would have warned him this was coming. But there was nothing.
Hours later, with less than a quarter of a tank of gas left, he headed back home. That night, as he lay in bed pushing back more tears threatening to fall, Matt made himself a silent vow.
Never. Again.
He’d thought falling in love would bring him happiness and a sense of belonging. In the end, the only thing loving Kat had done was bring him pain. A pain he would never, ever risk feeling again.
Chapter 1
Present day…
“Not bad.”
Matthew Turner shot his teammate a sideways glance. “Not bad? Dude, that shot was dead on.”
“I don’t know that I’d say dead on.” Kole Jameson, Bravo Team’s lead sniper, shrugged. “But it was close.”
The guy’s placating tone dug under his skin, which Matt knew was the whole point. Pulling himself off his belly and to his feet, he stood by as Kole did the same.
Matt took his sunglasses off his head and slid them over his eyes. “Not everyone can be a record-breaking super sniper like you.”
“I know.” The six-three smartass frowned. He began swiping at the dust on his chest and pants and looked back at Matt with a smirk. “It’s a shame, really.”
Removing his ballcap, Matt used it to swat his teammate’s arm before readjusting it on his head. The two men laughed.
“I’m just sayin’,” Kole continued to chuckle. “There’s good, like you. And then there’s me.”
“Listen, asshole. Let’s see you sew up a five-inch gash in someone’s side. Better yet, reach inside a guy’s leg, dig through a glob of bloody, mangled flesh and muscle, find his severed femoral artery, and clamp it off…before the guy bleeds out.”
Kole made a face. “That’s disgusting.”
“Exactly.”
“Yes, you two are gods among every black ops man and woman around the globe, and we should all bow down to you. But can we please do it while we eat? I’m starving.”
Both men turned to see Zade King, the team’s other sniper, making his way to Kole’s truck. Lowering the tailgate, the former Marine reached for his rifle case.
“Aw, don’t be jealous, King. You’re a decent shot, too.”
Without looking over at them, King flipped Kole the bird before returning to the task of unloading his weapon before securing it in the case.
As he and Kole made their way to the truck as well, Matt shook his head but smiled. Man, he loved these guys.
“I can go for a quick bite, but then I need to head home right after,” he told them as he reached into the truck bed and grabbed his own case.
“Let me guess.” Kole opened the driver’s side passenger door and got his case from behind the back seat. “Hot date?”
“Turner doesn’t date.” Zade snapped his case closed and slid it up toward the cab.
“Oh, that’s right.” Kole nodded, feigning a seriousness Matt knew the fucker didn’t feel. “He gets in and out as fast as he can. Kind of like a thief in the night.”
“Except you can’t steal what’s given to you freely. And trust me, boys.” Matt set his case next to Zade’s. “Every woman I’ve been with has been more than willing to give me anything I want.”
With a roll of his eyes, Kole took his place behind the wheel. Matt climbed into the front passenger while Zade occupied the spot behind Kole.
“And why are you all always razzin’ me about this shit?” Matt spouted off, unable to let it go. “King’s still single. Hell, Nate was a total commitment-phobe until he met Gracie.” He clicked his seatbelt in place. “Still can’t believe the fucker flew off to Vegas last week and eloped. You know, he’s the one who needs his balls busted. That would’ve been one hell of a good time.”
“Yes, because weddings are your thing, Turner.” Kole put the truck in gear and began driving away from R.I.S.C.’s private range. “And quit trying to change the subject.”
Kole looked over at his friend. “I’m not, and what do you mean? I like weddings.” A corner of his mouth curved upward. “Actually, most of the time, I look forward to them.”
“You like weddings?” Zade snorted. “Okay.”
“I do,” Matt protested fiercely before adding, “No pun intended.”
“Right…” Kole let the word hang in the air. “That must be why you snuck out of mine and Sarah’s the first chance you got.”
Scowling, Matt could feel himself getting worked up. “Seriously? You’re bringing that shit up again? I told you before I didn’t fucking sneak out. I left. Last I checked, I was free to do without asking the groom’s permission.”
“I think it’s the fact you left alone that has us so perplexed.”
Matt glared at Zade from over his shoulder. “Maybe my dick needed a break.” “Of course, you don’t get enough to know what that feels like, do ya, King?”
“Dude.” Zade’s brows turned inward.
“Seriously, Turner.” Kole glanced away from the gravel road to give him a disapproving look. “We’re just giving you shit.”
Damn. They were right. These were his teammates. His friends. And what they were saying wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before.
So, why is it bothering you now?
Matt honestly didn’t know. Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t been laid in a while. Not that he’d ever admit it to these jokers, but he hadn’t had sex since before Kole’s wedding.
So, there it was. He was horny and needed to release all his pent-up frustration. Except he wasn’t.
Aaand…that was the real problem behind Matt’s short fuse. He wasn’t horny. Not like he should be after going this long without female companionship.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t get any. Hell, the way he looked, Matt knew he could walk into any bar in Dallas and have his pick of the single women in attendance. Probably some of the married ones, too. Not that he’d ever do that. Even a guy like him had lines he never crossed.
The problem was him.
Not physically. His extra time spent in the shower this morning confirmed that, which was a huge relief. But it also confirmed so
mething else…something Matt had been in denial over ever since his dry spell started.
You’ve been denying it for a hell of a lot longer than that.
The annoying fucking voice was right, and he knew it. He knew it because lately, there was only one woman his body craved. One woman haunting his dreams at night.
She was the same woman who’d turned him into the uncaring, no-strings asshole he was today. And damn if that didn’t piss Matt off something fierce.
He squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in an attempt to knock the decade-long memory away.
“You okay?”
Matt opened his eyes and ran a hand over his face before looking at Kole. “Yeah, man. I’m good. And, uh…sorry I got so wound up.”
“It’s all right.” With a concerning glance, Kole shrugged a shoulder. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“Nope.” If he did, he’d have to explain what happened ten years ago. No way in hell was he doing that. The last thing he wanted was for them to know what a schmuck he’d been.
“Fair enough.”
The cab of the truck was quiet for the next mile or two before Zade struck up a conversation about where they wanted to eat. Once that happened, Kole called Gabe, Bravo’s team leader, and invited him to join them.
When the discussion turned to something work-related, the three went on as if nothing had ever happened, and Matt knew all was forgiven.
Like most men, he and the other Bravo members would sometimes get hot under the collar. Also like most men, they’d run their mouths, say their piece, and move on. None of that holding a grudge bullshit.
Still, he felt like a prick having gotten pissed at their teasing. He really wasn’t an asshole. Not to these guys, anyway. They were more like brothers than teammates, and Matt was grateful as hell to have them by his side.
By the time dinner was over, he’d canceled his non-date, claiming something had come up with work. Since then, he’d been sitting here, at the hole-in-the-wall bar he sometimes went to when he didn’t want to be around anyone he knew.
The longer he sat, the more he thought about his job and the guys he worked with now. Bravo Team may be less than two years old, but for Matt, it felt as if he’d been part of the team for much longer.
When he’d first enlisted in the military, he was convinced he’d be in for life. But when Jake McQueen approached him about joining R.I.S.C., the elite, private security company Jake owned, Matt was more than willing to listen.
R.I.S.C., which stands for Rescue, Intel, Security, and Capture, was one of the most sought-after private security firms in the nation. Made up of two teams—Alpha and Bravo—they not only worked for civilians in need of protection, they also took on jobs for Homeland Security.
Those ops were sometimes very dangerous and almost always off the books. Homeland would task the men—and one woman—of R.I.S.C. to do jobs ranging from intel gathering to hostage extractions. Or, like the name said, they’d be hired to locate and capture some of the country’s most dangerous enemies.
Joining the Navy had been a dream of his ever since he was a kid. One of his best friends growing up had an older brother who was a pilot in the Navy. Matt and his friend always idolized him.
Unlike his worthless father, Matt was determined to make something of himself. Although, in a strange way he probably owed part of his success—albeit a microscopic part—to his old man.
Like his friend’s brother, Matt grew up thinking he wanted to be a pilot. That all changed the night his dad got wasted and fell through their glass patio door.
Matt was home and came running when he heard the loud crash. Glass was everywhere, and his dad’s leg was bleeding profusely.
Thankfully, the idiot was too out of it to fight Matt when he told him to stay still. After calling 911, Matt went to the drawer by the sink, grabbed a couple clean dishtowels, and made a homemade tourniquet by tying the ends of the towels together and wrapping it around his dad’s leg.
When the medics arrived, they asked who had done it. Only thirteen at the time, Matt was afraid to answer, thinking he’d done something wrong. Instead he was shocked when the guy told him he’d saved his dad’s life.
Funny thing was, he hadn’t even thought about what he was doing. He’d just acted. Which was what he’d told the paramedic that day. The older man smiled and said something that would change Matt’s life forever.
Son, that was a very smart and brave thing you did. Not many adults would’ve handled themselves that well. You get older, you should think about a career in emergency medicine.
Rather than choose, Matt decided to combine the two and become a Navy corpsman. By the time he was twenty-three, he’d gotten a bachelor’s degree in nursing on the government’s dime, allowing him to become an officer.
After that, Matt continued to work his ass off, pushing himself harder than most, earning several Atta-boy’s and even more documented commendations. His performance both in and out of the field caught the attention of several higher-ups…as well as Jake McQueen’s.
Working alongside the legendary former Delta Force operator and the other members of R.I.S.C. was like a dream come true. He’d heard enough to know McQueen only hired the best, so when he asked Matt to join the new Bravo Team Jake was putting together, Matt hadn’t had to think about it.
Now he got to do pretty much the same thing he did in the military, without all the side-stepping bullshit that came with being under Uncle Sam’s thumb. For the first time in a very long time, Matt finally felt as though he’d made it.
A shrink would probably tell him his overzealous need to succeed was a big fuck you to his dad. They’d be partially right, but his dad wasn’t the only one who thought Matt wasn’t good enough.
Nope. Not going there.
Shaking those thoughts away, he took a sip of the same whiskey he’d been nursing since he sat down half an hour ago. He was about to say screw it and call it a night when an attractive blonde sauntered her way over to him.
“Hey, handsome.” She smiled, her perfect teeth framed by a set of bright red lips.
Normally this would be the part where his dick would stand up and take notice, but once again, the fucker was asleep on the job.
“Hi,” Matt muttered back with a forced smile.
The woman got even closer. “I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been sittin’ here alone for quite a while. Thought maybe you could use some company. Mind if I sit?”
When the exaggeratedly obvious woman tilted her head to the empty bar seat to his right, Matt felt he had no choice but to say, “Sure.”
“Good.” The blonde’s smile grew wider. She sat down, the action causing her already-short skirt to slide up even more. Licking her lips seductively, she said, “You know, you’re awfully cute. Way too cute to be alone. Where’s your girlfriend?”
He should’ve said he was waiting for her to meet him here. Instead he heard himself say, “No girlfriend.”
Her blue eyes brightened at that. “Really?” She leaned forward, resting her hand on his denim-covered thigh. Running her palm slowly up his leg, she licked her lips again.
“What do you say we find someplace a little quieter?”
Jesus. He hoped like hell he didn’t come off this desperate when he hit on women.
With her fingertips precariously close to his still-not-hard dick, Matt scrambled to come up with an excuse to get him the hell out of there when his phone screen lit up and began vibrating across the top of the wooden bar.
Relieved to see the name of the caller, Matt abruptly stood, the woman’s hand falling as he blurted, “It’s my boss. Sorry, but I have to go.”
Ignoring the pouty look on her face—and the fact that Gabe wasn’t technically his boss—he spun on his heels and quickly made his way to the door. The second he stepped onto the sidewalk, Matt answered the call.
“Turner.”
“I was about to hang up,” his team lead
er quipped. “Is this a bad time?”
Not even close. Matt checked for traffic and started walking across the street to the pothole-infested parking lot. “Nah. I’m heading home. What’s up?”
“Jake called. He wants us in the office at oh eight hundred.”
Matt didn’t think anything of the news. Last-minute jobs were pretty much the norm for R.I.S.C.
“He give you anything?”
“No details. Only that he had a new job and Bravo Team’s up.”
Shortly after its formation, Matt’s team began alternating the bigger jobs with Alpha Team. Since that team got back from an overseas op for Homeland last week, it was their turn.
“Copy that. I’ll see you at eight.”
Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Matt unlocked his truck and climbed inside. By the time he got home and crawled into bed, his mind had returned to the woman at the bar.
Not because he regretted brushing her off but because he didn’t. What the hell was wrong with him? One minute, he’s perfectly fine with no-strings, consensual one-night-stands, and the next…
A different woman’s face filled his mind’s eye. One with long, dark hair and eyes the color of chocolate. Ah, hell no.
Matt threw his covers off and practically jumped out of bed. Storming barefoot across his loft-style bedroom, he made his way down the open staircase and across his condo into the kitchen.
Bottles clanged together as he opened the refrigerator door with more force than necessary. Grabbing a Heineken from the top shelf, he used his free hand to slam the door shut.
Pissed, it took a few seconds of digging noisily through his utensil drawer before he spotted the bottle opener. Popping the top off, Matt tossed the opener and cap onto the marble counter and downed half the beer in one, long gulp.
He didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but if he had to drink himself to sleep in order to quiet the sudden thoughts and memories of that particular mistake, that’s exactly what he would do.
A few hours and several beers later, Matt crawled back into bed. This time when he closed his eyes, the only thing floating through his mind was how quickly eight o’clock was going to be here.