I’d had my suspicions, but when I saw the look of pure terror in the little girl’s eyes and the way her mom tried to protect her—I’d snapped. I’d gone after him, attacking with unrestrained fury. I’d definitely lived up to my fucking call sign—acting like a rabid St. Bernard as I pummeled the bastard.
“Look—” Mark’s expression softened ever so slightly, and I assumed he was playing the good cop to Liam’s bad. Liam was trained as an interrogator, after all. “I’m not saying the guy didn’t deserve it. And I’m not saying I wouldn’t have wanted to do the same in your shoes. But you can’t let douchebags like that fuck with your head.”
He was right about that, but I wasn’t going to admit it. The asshole had gotten in my head. The situation had hit a little too close to home.
“Which is why—” Mark took a deep breath “—we’re putting you on a desk job for a while. You can focus on strategy until you sort your head out.”
“But—”
Mark shook his head, and I knew there was no use arguing. Mark’s word was law—at least in the Virginia office of Cole Security. And deep down, I knew he was right. I’d fucked up, and I was no use to anyone in the field—not at the moment.
“For how long?” I clenched my teeth, knowing this was a test. He was reading me, just as I was reading him.
“We’ll reevaluate when your doctor clears you for more activity.”
That seemed fair enough, even if it was still weeks away. However, it only made me more determined.
“In the meantime, there’s a new initiative—Spines for Soldiers. Has Lee mentioned it to you?” he asked, referring to Natalie. Though more often than not, we just called her Lee.
I shook my head. Spines for Soldiers? Was this some sort of back injury program? If so, why was he talking to me? I’d injured my knee, not my spine.
“Igloo Books has a new goal to bring quality reading material to the men and women who serve our country.” It sounded like he was reading from a script, and I couldn’t help but laugh. It was so not Mark.
“You okay there, Twilight? You sound more like a robot than a vampire.”
“You won’t be laughing in a minute,” Liam said. “Nat nominated you.”
I glanced between them, wondering if they were shitting me. But Mark continued talking. “You’ll receive a book every other week, and you’ll be partnered with a fellow reader to compare notes via email.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not interested in some pen pal, buddy reading program.”
Mark leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankle at the knee. “We’re not asking. We’re telling.”
I stood, grimacing when my knee protested the sudden movement. “This is bullshit. I’m fine,” I ground out. Mark gave my bum knee a pointed glance. “I will be. As soon as this heals.”
“You want back in the field? Complete this program. In the meantime, think of this as mental training. A chance to read on company time. But make no mistake about it—this is mandatory.”
I blew out a breath but held my tongue. This was fucking bullshit. Mark had gone soft—must have been the effect of marrying Charlie and becoming a father. Liam too. I shook my head, full of disappointment.
“Unless you’d prefer to attend counseling.” Mark stood, holding my stare from across the desk, but I didn’t waver.
I finally shook my head, knowing better than to protest. I wasn’t going to win any awards by arguing with my boss. And after what had happened with Aaron’s severe case of PTSD, I knew these guys didn’t mess around. “No, sir.”
“Great. Here’s the first book on the list.” He slid it across the desk.
“Great,” I deadpanned.
“You’ll receive an email with the program guidelines as well as tips to maximize your experience.”
I nearly barked out a laugh. Ha. Like I was going to enjoy this “experience.”
Mark returned his attention to his computer, ignoring me when I tucked the book under my arm and readjusted my cane. Liam crossed his arms over his chest, a stern expression on his face. Apparently, the conversation was over, and there was no use protesting.
I hobbled over to the door, irritated by my pain. By my stupid fucking leg. By the fact that I was now required to participate in this dumb-ass virtual book club, when I’d rather be studying intel or training with the guys. Not lounging by the pool reading a book.
In the hall, I leaned against the wall, grateful for the pretext to stop and rest. I glanced both ways, making sure no one was around before wiping my forehead with the hem of my shirt. The pain was making me sweat, and I didn’t want to let on how bad it was. I glanced at the book—something about Alaska and love and loss. I frowned down at it. The only things I’d read in the past decade were tech manuals or ops specs, not…whatever the hell this was.
How was this supposed to help with my mental state? So far, it had only made me more agitated. I was tempted to throw it in the trash can on the way to the break room but thought better of it. I wouldn’t be doing myself any favors by dissing this program. For whatever reason, it was important to Mark, which meant it was important to my career.
If I could learn to hold my breath for two minutes and forty-nine seconds, to effectively drown-proof myself, I could sure as hell do this—asinine as the request was. Besides, I didn’t actually have to read the book, did I? I could just log on, chat with the book nerd partner, and then log off. I straightened, feeling better already as I headed into the break room.
“Cujo,” Heath beckoned me from across the room.
My call sign was Cujo. It was a sort of play on my first and last name—Connor James—as well as a nod to the Stephen King novel of the same name. The guys liked to joke that I was relentless—with studying, with missions, anything. It wasn’t terrible as far as call signs went, at least if you didn’t mind being compared to a rabid St. Bernard. I’d certainly heard worse. Muff or Muffin, Twilight, Dreamboat. I shook my head. No fucking way.
I grabbed my lunch out of the fridge and had just placed it in the microwave to heat when Katie walked in.
“Hey, Connor.” She smiled at me. “How are you today?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Been better.”
She leaned in, lowering her voice. “Leg still bothering you?”
I didn’t respond other than to grunt.
“I could help.” Her voice was sultry. “Let me come over tonight and make you feel better.”
The offer was tempting, but I’d been less and less interested in her company lately. Maneuvering around my knee for sex was a pain in the ass. And it only made me feel even more powerless. More broken.
“Maybe another time,” I said, trying to evade her question.
I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but she knew where we stood. I’d always been completely honest—this was sex, nothing more. I wasn’t interested in a relationship.
“Sure.” She grinned. “Text me if you change your mind.”
She grabbed her coffee, stopping briefly at the table where Heath and some of the other guys were seated. As I stared after her, watching her smile and joke with them, I realized what an asshole I was. Here she was, offering herself up to me, and I’d turned her down. But I couldn’t do it.
I joined the group at the table, grateful for the distraction so they didn’t hear the hiss of pain when I sat.
“How’s the leg?” Heath asked.
I lifted a shoulder, trying to downplay my injury. I needed a fucking pain pill, but I’d left them at home. “Fine.”
“What’s this?” Decker grabbed the book from the table. He turned it over, skimming the back cover.
“I didn’t know you were into…Alaska.” He furrowed his brows and set the book back down in front of me.
“I’m not.” I had a feeling I was about to catch a ton of shit from the guys for this.
“Oh. Did you sign up for the new Spines for Soldiers program?” Heath asked. “I heard Dean was matched up with this chick who
totally has the sexy librarian look.”
“Oh yeah?” Decker asked, suddenly interested. “How do I sign up?”
“Here—” I slid the book toward him. “You can have my spot.”
“Fuck yeah.”
“You do know you have to read the book, right?” Heath asked.
Decker passed the book back to me. “I don’t have time for that shit.”
A hush fell over the table as the realization dawned on them. The only reason guys like Dean or me had time for “that shit” was because we’d been injured. And if I wasn’t careful, I’d be sitting on the sidelines, reading books indefinitely.
Physically, my recovery was going well. Mentally, though, I was struggling. I’d let down my men, my brothers. And my conversation with Mark and Liam had only confirmed my fears. I was a liability. A loose cannon. No better than my father.
“Connor?”
“What?” I snapped my head up, only then realizing the conversation had resumed without me.
“Drinks tonight? Hot Tuna. Unless you have plans with—” Heath jerked his head in the direction of Katie.
I shook my head. “No. No plans with Katie.”
He lowered his voice. “You all right, man?”
I clenched my fist beneath the table. “I’m fine.”
He glanced over to where she was standing in the hallway, her back to us. She was pretty, nice too, but I couldn’t give her what she wanted. And the more she pushed, the more suffocating it was.
“You sure?” Heath asked.
I lifted a shoulder. “She’s getting too clingy, wanting to help me around the house, make dinner. It’s all a bit too domestic.”
“She can come help me.” He chuckled. “Hell, I’d happily get injured if she’d play sexy nurse.”
I smacked him on the back of the head. “A little respect.”
“Is that how you treat her—with respect?” His gaze belied his skepticism.
He made a good point, but I didn’t want to hear it. “She knows where we stand.”
He blew out a breath. “You sure about that? Because the way she looks at you says she wants more. That she hopes for more.”
I shook my head. His attitude was grating on me. The idea that he’d want to be injured… I blew out a breath. He didn’t understand. And my conversation with Mark and Liam earlier certainly hadn’t improved my mood.
I stood, nearly toppling my chair in the process. “I’m out of here.”
“Connor.”
“What?” I snapped, struggling to keep my temper in check.
I breathed through my nose. I need a damn pill.
“You forgot your book.” He held it out to me, a concerned look on his face.
I yanked it from his hand and turned before he could say anything more. Though I wanted to march out of there with my head held high, my limp made it difficult to do anything with much dignity.
I was so caught up in my thoughts, I didn’t see the napkin on the floor. I tripped, my leg splaying out, knee burning from the exertion. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
Katie rushed over, helping me up from the floor. I could feel everyone’s eyes on us as she steadied me. She shouldn’t be fucking helping me. I shouldn’t need help.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I hissed, the pain radiating through my leg.
“Let me help you.”
“Leave me alone,” I snapped before softening my tone. “Please, just let me do it.”
With a tearful nod, she did as I requested, backing away as everyone else stared at me. I didn’t know which was worse—the questioning stares filled with disappointment, the fact that I’d just barked at Katie, or the pain searing my knee. Fucking mess. I only hoped I hadn’t somehow injured it further.
And while I should’ve apologized to Katie, I couldn’t. Nor did I check in with my doctor. Because I didn’t want to give Mark and Nat and whoever else was “concerned” about me any more ammunition to force me into a desk job. So, I forged on, sucking in a few sharp breaths as I limped back to my office, where I buried myself in paperwork for the rest of the day.
When I returned home, I downed a couple pain pills, ready for the burn to subside. But I had a feeling after today’s little incident, it wasn’t going to go away so easily. I skimmed my emails, noticing a new one from an email address at Igloo Books and frowned. The subject was: Greetings, reading buddy! And my scowl deepened. Fuck water; I was going to need something stronger. I poured myself a whiskey, despite knowing it wasn’t a good idea to mix alcohol with the pain pills. I downed the first, then another before opening the email with a deep sigh.
Dear Connor,
I hope it’s okay that I addressed you by your first name. My name is Olivia, and I’m thrilled to be paired as your reading buddy. First of all, I’d like to thank you for your service and sacrifice.
Here are a few fun facts about me.
I am a voracious reader. I consume about four to five books a week.
I have a cat named Luna.
I love baking, and my friends rave about my chocolate crack cookies.
I hope you’ll enjoy Alone in Alaska as much as I did. I can’t wait to discuss it with you, specifically the themes of isolation and living in the wilderness. I’m sure you can relate to that to some extent, given your training.
Talk to you soon,
Olivia
I rolled my eyes and reread the email. Somehow, I’d ended up with…exactly what I’d expected. A goody-two-shoes book nerd who owned a cat, probably lived alone, and was a thirty-year-old virgin.
I mean, who even talked like that? Themes of isolation? A bullet-point list of facts about herself? I polished off the rest of my whiskey. This girl was wound so tight it wasn’t even funny. She probably didn’t even know the meaning of the word fun.
So, I decided to have a little fun myself. My body hummed from the pain pills and alcohol coursing through my system. This girl—this Olivia—wanted to get to know each other? I snickered to myself. She was about to get a hell of a lot more than she bargained for.
Chapter Three
Olivia
Immersed in my latest read, I ignored the hum of conversation in the café as I waited for Alyssa to arrive. Work had been so hectic this morning, I hadn’t had time to check my personal email. And when I scrolled through and saw a new one, and a thrill of excitement raced through me when I saw who it was from—Connor. I knew nothing about my new reading partner other than his first name and the fact that he was a former navy SEAL, but I was excited nevertheless.
Even though I was opposed to long-distance relationships, I’d always wanted a pen pal. The idea that we could connect over a book from across the city or even the world made me giddy. I opened his message, but the farther I read, the more my smile fell until I was staring at the screen with my jaw hanging open. Are you kidding me?
“Who?” Alyssa asked, making me realize I’d said it aloud. I’d been so absorbed in the email, I hadn’t even seen her approach.
“Connor.” I continued to stare at my screen, aghast.
“Who’s Connor?” she asked, nudging me toward the line.
“The SEAL I was paired with for Spines for Soldiers. Former navy SEAL.”
“Mm. Sexy name.”
“For an asshole,” I sneered.
“Ooh. Tell me more.”
“What is it about women and assholes?” I mused aloud. “I mean, do you honestly enjoy being demeaned? Being treated like crap?”
She barked out a laugh. “Fuck no. But if a man is dominant, controlling, the sex can be so, so hot.”
My cheeks flamed with heat. I didn’t have much experience when it came to sex. Or at least, nothing that could be considered hot enough to scorch your panties like the kind Alyssa mentioned. I’d only heard about it secondhand and read about it in romance novels. I honestly wondered if it was a myth.
“Plus,” she continued as we inched toward the counter. “The more brooding and alpha they are, the more satisfy
ing it is when they fall.”
“Fall?” I tilted my head to the side.
“In love, silly.” She yanked her purse up on her shoulder.
I covered my face with my hands. “You read way too many romance novels.”
“What can I say?” She shrugged, completely unapologetic. “It’s my job.”
Alyssa worked in the marketing department as well, but in the romance genre. Where I covered several types of fiction, she focused solely on contemporary romance.
“Yeah. Yeah. I know.”
“So…” She leaned in, nudging me with her elbow. “What did your sexy SEAL say that’s got you so hot and bothered?”
I hmphed. “Sexy? He may have been a SEAL, but he is not sexy.”
His attitude was so far from being sexy, it was laughable. He was arrogant and rude and… I blew out a breath.
“Oh, honey, all SEALs are sexy. It’s like a job requirement or something. Like being able to hold your breath underwater for three minutes.”
I turned to her. “Is that even a real thing?”
“I don’t know. But I bet anyone who can hold their breath for three minutes is amazing at oral sex.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Imagine the possibilities.”
“I’d rather not.” I crossed my arms over my chest, a prickly feeling spreading over my skin. The few times a guy had gone down on me, it had been…awkward and less than pleasant.
“You’re no fun.” She pouted.
“I am fun!” I protested.
“Okay. So why aren’t you going out with me and the gang tonight?” she asked when we finally made it to the counter.
I turned to the clerk, relieved for an excuse not to respond. “Hey, Drew!” I smiled.
His answering grin was huge. “Hiya, Olivia. The usual—hold the aioli and a side salad with no dressing?”
I nodded, pleased he’d remembered my order, even the small details. “You know it.”
“That’s why I like you.” He smiled as he rang me up. “You’re predictable.”
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