Deadly Aim (Bad Karma Special Ops Book 2)

by Tracy Brody

  “I kind of fell into it.”

  She laughed out loud. “You might fall into the military, but not Special Forces.” Not with the amount of effort it requires. How few make it through the Qualification or Q course, as Eric had referred to it.

  “Growing up, there was this older kid on our street who scared us.”

  “A bully?”

  “Beyond that.” He paused. “To give you an example, one night, Jordy’s dad—he was a piece of work himself—called the police because the neighbor’s dog wouldn’t stop barking. The police showed up to talk to the neighbor, who said his dog was barking at the kids on the other side of their joint fence. The cops went in Jordy’s backyard and found him and another kid in the trees at the back of the property smoking pot and drinking beers they’ve stolen from somewhere. They ended up getting busted and, man, was Jordy pissed. Not long after, the neighbor’s dog went missing.”

  “No!”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Don’t know. They never found the dog. There wasn’t any evidence, but we all knew Jordy did something. Anyway, Jordy liked this girl, Brianna, on the street. Pretty blonde with blue eyes, and she wanted nothing to do with him. One day, Brianna’s younger brother heard Jordy talking smack about her. Ian talked smack right back, which wasn’t smart since he was half Jordy’s size. In a flash, they were on the ground with Jordy whaling on Ian. I jumped in, knocked him off, and we tussled.”

  “And you beat some sense into him?”

  “I wish. I held my own, though.”

  “You were the hero. Did you get to date the blonde?”

  “We were like fourteen. We ‘went together,’ just holding hands and first kisses and stuff,” he admitted with a bashful grin.

  “Ah, ha.”

  “I didn’t help her brother to impress her if that’s what you’re thinking. Besides, she dumped me when she went to high school a month later. But Jordy quit messing with us after that.”

  “You liked the feeling of being a protector?” She’d seen the same quality in Eric and other Rangers she’d known.

  Mack waggled his head. “I’d been thinking about the military, and when my friends were applying to colleges, the idea of four more years in classes sounded like torture. You talked about the freedom that comes with flying, me, I wanted to be outside. Hiking, hunting, camping, fishing.” He motioned to the woods around them, and his relaxed posture and confident smile embodied his complete contentment with his surroundings. “The Army seemed like a good fit, so I signed up. Guess I started thinking about Special Forces about three weeks into boot camp.”

  “It took that long?” she teased. It didn’t surprise her. A large percentage of guys dreamed about serving in Special Forces, though few made the cut.

  He laughed. “I played baseball and ran cross-country in high school. I was in shape, so basic training wasn’t a big deal for me. Quitting’s never been an option. Push me, and I keep going. What?” he asked when she chuckled.

  “Oh, nothing. Just sounds like standard alpha-male syndrome.”

  “Very funny.”

  She laughed again when he rolled his eyes at her, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he wrapped their joined hands around to her back and pulled her body against his. With his free hand, he tipped her face up to his. He stroked his thumb across her cheek. His hand slid around to the small of her back. Their mouths met and opened. His tongue stroked hers.

  The earlier kisses made her weak in the knees, but now a pleading murmur outed her need. Their hips met, and the solid length of his arousal pressed enticingly against her. Her pelvic muscles constricted in pleasure. It’d been so long since she’d felt this way. Disappointment crashed through her when he put space between them again.

  “Mmm, hmm,” was the only response she could muster.

  “Yeah.” He cut his gaze in the direction of other voices, then released a drawn-out breath before nodding.

  They hiked further down to the base of Raven Rock. They slowed to study and take pictures of the other-worldly intertwining roots that snaked out from the tree bases before disappearing into the earth. They passed boulders and heard the river before it came into view.

  They followed the path alongside the Cape Fear River, enjoying that part of the trail before they headed to the stairs. The overlook was about a hundred and fifty feet above the river and gave a sweeping view of the forest’s variegated shades of green. A hawk drifted on the air currents.

  “Let’s get a picture together.” He positioned them by a circle rock wall that kept visitors away from the edge of the cliff. With their backs to the river, he snapped a few pictures.

  He turned the phone to show her a picture. A full smile played across Mack’s face. A slightly more subtle one on hers as well. What if? The possibility of this working out between them rose another notch.

  When a pair of hikers approached, Mack and Kristie moved on and tracked back down to the trail close to the river’s shore.

  “My turn to ask you a personal question,” she said.

  “Size eleven.”

  “What?”

  “My boot size.” He gave a playful grin.

  “That’s so not what I was going to ask.” But she got what he was implying.

  “No? I figured it might be more personal, so thought I’d lead with humor.”

  Nice plan. She liked that about him. “Why did you and your ex-wife divorce?”

  Mack sighed and gave her hand a squeeze, but didn’t let go. “After years of deployments, Rochelle was fed up with the Army life. She wanted me to get out, not just out of Spec Ops, but the Army. My old team leader left for the private sector and later Jarrod tried to recruit me to join him. Because they offer a recruiting bonus for operators, he resorted to having his wife talk to Rochelle about it—promising better money, a more regular schedule versus me disappearing for a mission with no idea where, how long, or when I’d be back. She was all on board, except I don’t see the honor in protecting companies and their assets.”

  Eric had felt the same way. He didn’t serve for the money, but to make a difference for the better.

  “Eventually, she gave me an ultimatum: the Army or her. I didn’t think she was serious. I thought we could make it work a few more years. This far in, it didn’t make financial sense to not stay in until I hit my twenty for full retirement benefits. Only Rochelle filed for legal separation right after I left on the next deployment.” His words came out slowly, his tone low and filled with regret.

  “I’m sorry.” Not many women had what it took to be the wife of an operator. She once thought she did. Stephanie thought Kristie still did, but she wasn’t so sure.

  “I tried to get her to go for counseling when I got back, but, well, she’d been to Georgia to visit her folks and ran into a guy who dated her best friend in high school. They’d started chatting and had this long-distance thing going.”

  Kristie bit her tongue to refrain from bashing his ex. Stephanie’s comment made more sense now. It was bad enough to start down the road to divorce when her husband was out serving their country, but to start a new relationship? She kind of hated Rochelle without having met her.

  “She was done. Wouldn’t give an inch. Refused to even go to counseling. Said it was too little, too late. That’s when I admitted it was over. I don’t quit on things,” he stated, “but it takes two to make a marriage work. That’s my side of things. She’d probably spin it differently.”

  “I appreciate you telling me.” Lord knows it couldn’t be easy for a guy like him to open up about his marriage failing. “And for what it’s worth, you seem to be doing a great job with the girls.”

  “I’m trying. Probably doing a better job spending time with them now. They’re why I kept trying to make it work with Rochelle and why I’d do it over again. Just—differently.”

  “We all have things we’d like a do-over for.”

  Mack tugged on her hand, pulling her closer as he stopped. He
stared into her eyes. “Kinda glad we got that out of the way. I haven’t dated much since the divorce, so I haven’t had to share that, but no more talking about my ex today.”

  She nodded in agreement.

  “Wanna eat?”

  “Sounds good.” They ambled over to the picnic table perched amid a flat expanse offering an unobstructed view of the river.

  Mack unloaded the food from his pack and took a seat facing the woods, affording her a view of the river with light glittering off the slow-moving water. A beautiful backdrop to his handsome face.

  The scratch on his cheek had faded to a faint, thin line. The sun overhead played up the auburn hue of his hair. His blue T-shirt made his eyes look bluer. As they talked, she kept getting distracted—by his eyes and those strong arms that she longed to run her hands over again. She had an overwhelming urge to trace a finger over the freckle on his lip.

  “You might want to get up on the table.”

  His unexpected statement jarred her back to reality. “Excuse me?”

  His gaze didn’t deviate from looking past her. “There’s a snake right behind—”

  “What!” She wrenched her head around and spied a long, black snake a few yards away, slithering right toward her feet. She scrambled onto the table, nearly sitting on the remainder of her sandwich.

  Mack didn’t disguise his amusement. “I figured you might not like snakes.” He took another bite of his sub, staring over the tabletop as the snake continued closer. “Looks like it’s a rat snake. It won’t hurt us.”

  Despite his calm demeanor, she was not reassured. “Can it climb up here?”

  “They’re good climbers, though my guess is he’s looking for mice. Under a picnic table is a prime snacking spot.”

  “You’re just going to sit there?” Her body trembled as the snake neared the table.

  “You want me to grab him and relocate him?”

  “No! Don’t touch it.”

  She felt foolish sitting atop the table, but there was no way she was getting down with the snake below. She gave Mack a pleading pout, motioning him to join her.

  He pushed his meal aside and complied, perching on the edge of the table. He gave a nod of his head, so she scooted over to sit beside him. After verifying the snake wasn’t climbing up the side of the table—yet—she lowered her feet to the bench. Trusting Mack would warn her if the snake was about to wrap itself around her leg or worse, she managed to carry on a conversation and eat the rest of her lunch while keeping an eye out.

  “You ready to hike some more?” he asked, wadding up the sandwich wrappers and chip bags.

  “Is the snake still there?”

  He leaned forward and peered under the table. “Yup. All coiled up like he’s sleeping. Hard to tell, though.” He smirked slightly. “You planning to wait until he moves?”

  “Nooo …”

  “Do I need to carry you?”

  She hesitated, unsure what to say. That’s what Eric would have done. He would have scooped her up in his arms or tossed her over his shoulder, despite her protests, and carried her to safety. She’d always felt safe and protected with him. Mack made her feel the same way.

  “I’ll get down first,” he volunteered, “if you’ll give me a kiss before I act as a human shield for you.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “Really? You just said to call if I needed rescuing, and now it comes with a price—and I have to pay in advance.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I …” He backpedaled with a sheepish smile.

  Good thing for him, he was a good kisser. Though his actions, interest, patience, and addictive kisses were overcoming her strategy to take things slow and keep her emotions and thoughts in check. If she wasn’t careful, she’d let her guard down too far, but damn, it felt good.

  They hiked a shorter trail, then Mack picked the path back to the parking lot.

  “You don’t want to do another trail?” It’d taken half their time together to let go of her worries about someone seeing them, and now the idea of leaving unleashed a deluge of rain on her parade.

  “Wanted to get you back by four. That’ll give you a few hours to nap or rest, then shower and change out of your hiking clothes before your dinner date tonight.”

  “Dinner date …?” After the park outing, she wanted to trust he had a safe option, but her heart rate accelerated enough to make her limbs tingle.

  “We have reservations at Hanlon’s Pub. The time’s flexible. The menu is limited, but the food’s good.”

  She broke into a smile as his intent—and intentions—became clear. If she gave him leeway on what counted as a date, and gave him credit for two dates today, they were awfully close to that magic number. “Sounds like my kind of place.”

  It could be a very promising night.

  Twenty-Four

  Mack scanned the kitchen. Flowers on the table. Check. Candles on either side. Check. Hopefully, it was enough to impress Kristie and show her she meant something to him. Especially since Spec Ops guys had a reputation—a fairly warranted one—about only being interested in sex. This wasn’t just about sex, and after today in the park, he hoped they had the same plan for tonight.

  When he heard a knock, he hurried to the door.

  “Welcome to Hanlon’s Pub. And may I say, wow!” He ushered her inside, closed the door, then held her at arm’s length, admiring her pink top that showed enough cleavage to fuel his imagination. “Thank you.” Her smile indicated she probably intended to have that effect on him. “I like this shirt on you.” She hooked a finger in the opening over the top button, drawing him closer and making his blood pressure spike.

  Stick with the mission plan. Don’t rush her.

  “I’ll have to wear it more often,” he said in what he hoped was a low, seductive tone. She smiled while he moved in for a kiss. Her fingers curled into his hair, and her lips parted, giving him a taste of her sweetness mixed with mint. His heart beat a hard, rapid tempo. It took extreme effort not to back her against the door, skip steps A through C of tonight’s mission plan, and charge into action. With eyes closed, he put a few inches between them and slowed himself down. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

  She cocked her head, pausing before answering. “Sounds good. Can I help with anything?”

  “I’m good.” He led her to the kitchen. “Salads are in the fridge. Bread and potatoes are in the oven on warm. I just need to put on the steaks. Hope you’re hungry.” He retrieved the bottle of wine and a corkscrew, even though he wanted his hands free and touching every part of her body.

  “Yes. No. I—Mack …”

  The desperation on her face shot white-hot heat through every inch of his body. He assumed she expected flowers, candles, dinner—the whole shebang. Then— hopefully—sex. But if he read her right, he liked her actual expectations better. He set the wine on the counter, then swaggered toward her, his eyes devouring her body.

  “I take it, you can wait to eat?” she asked with a sultry smile.

  Oh, yeah. That’s what I’m talking about. “I can go days.”

  Her seductive chortle pushed him to the limit. He reached for her, and their mouths joined in a deep, probing kiss. Their tongues met and teased. He couldn’t get enough of her. He took hold of her top and pulled it up, off, and tossed it aside. The pale-pink, lace bra underneath increased his urgency.

  He’d had a hundred and three fantasies about making love to her. Now his eyes locked on hers, and he returned her smile. She was better than any fantasy. “You’re sure about this?”

  “It’s been two years, Mack. Do not make me wait.”

  Two years? No. No more waiting. Before he could reach for the bra’s front clasp, she slid his shirt up and over his head—which totally worked for him, too. Her gentle push on his chest directed him out of the kitchen.

  Yeah, the kitchen counter or table probably weren’t the best options for the first time they made love. But, damn, it was a long way to the bedroom. He slowed his backward trek long
enough to undo the button on her pants and had the zipper down in seconds.

  She kicked off her sandals and shimmied out of her pants, leaving them on the living room floor. She was sexy as hell in only a bra and matching panties—and a belly button ring. The sight made him harder, if that was even possible. She edged past him while he unbuttoned his own jeans, and he nearly tripped following her before he got them off.

  He caught her by the waist and pulled her back against him. Holding her there, he nuzzled her neck, breathing in her sweet, floral scent. Sliding one hand up and over her smooth, taut stomach, he stopped when his fingers found the bra’s clasp, then flicked it open. Pushing aside the lacy cups, he fondled one perfect breast, his fingertips circling her hard, pert nipple. His other hand worked its way under the lace of her panties.

  She murmured with pleasure when his fingers stroked between her damp folds. Damp and wanting. Her body arched, and she braced her forearm on the hallway wall, steadying herself as she rocked against his hand. He slid a finger inside her. The sensation of her muscles tightening drew him closer to his own nirvana.

  His thumb stroked her, back and forth, gradually applying more pressure. Her bottom pressed back, nestling his erection.

  Man, it’s been too damn long.

  He wasn’t going to last long if she kept this up—not that he wanted her to stop, either. And as enticing as those panties were, he wanted them out of his way and his lucky boxers off.

  Kristie reached down and gripped his hand. “Not yet,” she said, her breathing labored. She nodded to the bedroom a few feet away.

  He got the message. If that’s what she wanted, the bedroom it was. He’d give her anything, do anything she wanted.

  She led the way, then stopped at the edge of the bed and turned to face him. As if reading his mind, she dropped his hand and skimmed the skimpy panties down her legs.

  He watched her every move, barely refraining from tossing her onto the bed. Then he saw her expectant gaze—which focused on his boxers. Before she could blink, he’d wrestled them over the bulge, and they hit the floor. She gave a light laugh as he closed the distance between them. She sank onto the bed, pulling him down with her.