Christmas in Cancun

by KaLyn Cooper

  The man whirled her around to face him. She never saw the fist, but she did see Jack’s hand grasp the root above the rim.

  Her world went black.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jack’s arms burned with strain, his thighs ached from supporting his weight plus an extra hundred pounds. The climb was more strenuous than he’d expected. He needed to work out more. There had been years of his life when this would have been easy. Now, he was looking hard at thirty years old and a totally different future than he’d imagined. His life had changed when two blondes had landed a few days ago.

  The sturdy ties cut into the back of his neck, but he had them. Both truly ugly idols. The craftsmanship of the gold was wonderfully detailed, but no one could make snakes for hair, a haggard face with a beak-like nose, carrying a skull…pretty.

  What had Jillian said? Chastain? What the hell was he doing there?

  “Jillian,” Jack called. She’d disappeared from the edge at some point. He’d been forced to use the vines on the back side because they were smaller around, rougher, and easier to grasp. On the front side once again, crawling over the edge, Jack sucked in clean, fresh jungle air rather than what was available in the damp cave. Exhausted from the climb, he called again. “Jillian. Where are you, darling?”

  Worn black boots appeared in front of his face. “She’s incapacitated at the moment.” Johnathan Chastain leaned forward. “I’ll take those off your hands, or should I say shoulders?” Jack had made a sling by tying his two dive bags together over his now tired shoulders. It had been the best way to carry the ten-inch gold statues, shiny as the day they were created.

  “I’ve got them.” Jack’s glare would have belittled another man, but Chastain’s eyes were wild, never leaving the statues shrouded by the green mesh bags.

  Jack’s gaze immediately found Addi, her head resting on the padded bar of the backpack. He watched her breathe before he looked for Jillian.

  “Where’s Jillian?” He pulled himself completely from the cenote’s edge and stood toe-to-toe with Chastain.

  The other man reached for Jack’s shoulders. He used his forearm, batting Chastain’s hands away.

  Jack stepped closer, using his peripheral vision to search for her.

  Chastain stepped back.

  “Where. Is. Jillian?” He enunciated each word and balled his hands into fists, ready to pound the daylights out of the man.

  Chastain nodded his head to the side. As soon as Jack glanced away, Chastain punched him in the gut. It was the same place his heart fell to when he saw her sprawled on the dirt, a bruise reddening on her face, blood trickling from her nose.

  He slid the heavy weight from his shoulders. Muscle memory took over, and Jack was in the fight of his life. He brought his left fist into Chastain’s gut. His right went to the man’s jaw before he was taken to the ground by a tackle. They rolled and punched, each landing a few good ones.

  Chastain ended up on top. Jack’s hands reached for the other man’s throat. As Chastain landed a hard blow to Jack face, he admitted, “You’re not as easy to kill as your brother. I should have paid off another gang to shoot you or run you off the road. Fitting you should die the same way as your bitch of a granny.”

  Jack’s body stilled when Chastain’s confession registered. That’s all the man needed to land the lucky blow that knocked him out.

  The blackness faded quickly as Chastain dragged him through the soft dirt. The sight of what he’d done to Jillian infuriated him. Rage helped Jack gained control of his body, seeing only the red of her blood. He’d kill Chastain for what he’d done to her. There was something more, too, but she filled his thoughts.

  Jack reached up and grabbed Chastain’s knee, tripping him to the ground. They punched and rolled against the log-like roots. Jack ended up on his back. Reversing the position, he tucked his head forward and thrust with his tired, aching legs, flipping Chastain over onto his back and following the momentum.

  As soon as he straddled the man, they began to slither down the smooth roots, polished by years of rain, slick as a child’s slide on the playground. Their speed increased as they neared the edge. Jack rolled to the side to grab the younger, rougher roots.

  Chastain slid farther down, his face at Jack’s waist. He wrapped his arms around Jack, holding on for his life.

  Jack felt the root he held give, so he reached for the next one, a little larger and hopefully sturdier. He was able to gain a good grasp, but his fatigued arms couldn’t hold them both for long.

  “Johnathan.” He looked down at the man he hated. The man who had hurt his Jillian. The man who…something else bad that he couldn’t remember. “Grab the vine to your right.”

  “No.” Chastain climbed up Jack’s body, shaking the tenuous vine.

  Strengthening his grip on the firmer of the two vines, Jack speared out his right hand to grab another. Before he could let go, the first broke free. The jolting of Jack’s body made Chastain lose his grip, and he slid down once again. He clung to Jack’s thighs this time.

  “God damn it, Chastain. I can’t hold us both. Grab the fucking vine.” Jack was torn between killing the man who had hurt his family and saving a man’s life.

  Chastain slid a few more inches down Jack’s legs before he reached for the vine.

  He missed.

  The thump and bone-cracking noises echoed around the cenote as if it had happened again and again.

  Jack took in the odd angle of Johnathan Chastain’s neck and knew the man was dead. A part of him didn’t care. Another part wished he was still alive so he could kill Chastain with his bare hands.

  Jillian filled his mind and his heart. He had to get to her.

  He climbed quickly to the top and dashed to her side. Jack examined the blackening bruise that filled the side of her face. She was out cold.

  Sliding his hand through the dirt under the hidden half of her face, he intended to bring her face to his, to bring her around gently with a kiss and his words of love. Because he did love her, with all his heart.

  His fingertips touched matted hair, thick with red liquid.

  “No!” Jack’s scream silenced the rowdy animals that had been noisily screeching at him.

  He lifted her head, and he saw the bloody rock.

  His hands shook as he gently pressed fingers into the side of her neck, searching for a pulse.

  It was there.

  Thank you, God!

  She was alive, but badly hurt.

  He kissed her lips…tasting salt water…from his tears.

  She was alive.

  He gently placed her head back down away from the rock and dashed for the cell phone in Addison’s carrier. She stirred and woke up as he tried to find the right pocket.

  “Unka Dak.” She reached for him, wanting out.

  “Oh, baby.” He hugged this little girl that he loved as much as he loved her mother. He picked her up pack and all, afraid to let her out this close to the cenote, and placed her beside her mother.

  He finally found the phone and called Luke. His chopper would be the fastest way to the hospital. While waiting for Cool Hand to answer, Jack searched the many pockets of the pack for the first aid kit. Damn it. He couldn’t remember where he’d put it. His brain wasn’t working.

  “Juice.” Addi patted his head and kicked her feet.

  “Sure, baby. Give me a minute.” He knew right where her provisions were stored and retrieved a drink and snack for her. The simple task helped his mind focus.

  “Hey, Jack, we going to hit Kuk’s club tonight?” At the sound of his friend’s voice, relief rushed through Jack.

  “Nine-one-one.”

  “What do you need, bossman?” Luke was all business now.

  Jack gave him the coordinates, and he heard the rotors wind up just as the call ended.

  Jack pulled Jillian into his lap and used their drinking water to rinse the blood from her face and the gash in the side of her head.

  She came to with a star
t, jerking her whole body alert, and immediately began pounding on Jack.

  He captured her arms and pinned them to her body.

  “Jillian.” He used a calming voice, well, as calm as he could be in a time like this. “You’re safe. Look at me. It’s Jack. I’ve got you.” He repeated the phrases over and over until she looked at him and saw him.

  She threw her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. “He was going to kill Addi—” She frantically pulled back, and her gaze flew to the edge of the woods where they had parked her. “Addison,” she screamed. “Where’s my baby?”

  “Right here.” Jack gently pulled her back into his lap and pointed to the spot beside him. Addison sat contentedly in her pack chair, alternately sucking down a juice box and chewing on an energy bar.

  “Mommy wake up?” she managed to say around a mouthful.

  Jillian slid across his thighs and hugged her daughter then kissed the crumb-encrusted face. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too, Mommy.” Her smile was filled with food. “Love Unka Dak, too,” she said before biting into the bar again.

  “Me too, Addison.”

  Jillian looked at Jack. “Me too.”

  She pressed her lips to his and slid her arms around his neck as she opened her mouth to his. He tasted her and played with her tongue.

  This was heaven. His woman in his arms, their baby contented next to them.

  Had she said it, but not really said the words. Did she love him as much as he loved her?

  Jack pulled back, needing to know the answer. “Me too, what?”

  She stared back at him. Blinked. “I love you, Jack Girard.” He kissed her with so much emotion behind it that it was a wonder he didn’t melt into a puddle. He was well aware that his whole body was amped up from everything that had happened, but this was deeper than adrenalin.

  He pulled back. “Good thing because I love you.” He pecked her on the cheek and then bent over to kiss Addison’s forehead. “And I love you too, Addi.” She patted his cheeks with sticky palms and pursed her lips. Jack laughed and kissed the little lips that looked like a pretty pink bow.

  The whomp-whomp-whomp of the rotors, the receding adrenalin, the familiar finality of a mission accomplished, soothed Jack like nothing else could, except the woman in his arms. Help was there.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jack was nervous, clenching and releasing the small box in the pocket of his dress slacks. The Girard New Year’s Eve party wasn’t formal but much dressier than the casual Christmas Eve party. Women in long, beaded gowns, fancy ones mid-calf, a few minis, clacked around the quad in high heels with flutes of champagne in hand. The twinkling lights in the trees were on again, matching jewels that sparkled from necks, wrists, and fingers.

  Jillian had gone to her room to put a protesting, over-tired Addison to bed. Jack wanted to join them and put Jillian to bed. With him.

  Kuk strode up and handed him two fingers of scotch in a short, heavily leaded crystal glass. “You look like you could use this. Black eye looks better. How’s the rib?”

  “Thanks. Hurts like a bitch.” Jack sipped the twelve-year-old amber liquid and watched as his cousin scanned every corner of the room. “Who you looking for? Your wife is over with my mother.”

  “Is Jillian still bedridden? That was one hell of a blow she took.” Kuk’s gaze fell to Jillian’s room, where the sliding doors slowly opened and she emerged. “My question is answered.”

  “Kuk. So glad you made it.” Jillian’s genuine smile settled Jack’s nerves. She’d retouched her makeup to hide the purplish bruise on her cheek and combed her hair so it covered the five stitches on the right side of her head.

  After hugging Kuk, she handed Jack the baby monitor, and he attached it to his belt in a move so natural it seemed he’d done it for years. She stepped next to him and slid her arm around his waist, careful of his cracked rib. At the same time, his arm went to her shoulders.

  “We never miss a Girard New Year’s party, even when we were kids,” Kuk said. “But I need to unofficially talk business with both of you for a minute.”

  The glance they exchanged was guarded, but they nodded in unison.

  “First, Jack, I want to thank you for donating the statues to the National Museum of Anthropology. They will be featured, of course, in the Maya History section next to the Virgin Mary.”

  “They are on loan from the Girard Foundation,” Jack clarified.

  “Yes, understood.” Kuk turned his gaze to Jillian. “For several years the Foundation has generously endowed the museum with funding for Mayan research, and I’ve convinced the museum board to hire you, Jillian, as head researcher for the Ix Chel, Ix Chebeliax, and Virgin Mary statues.”

  Jack could feel Jillian’s excitement.

  “I’m sorry it’s only a part-time position, but I think I can help out with that too,” Kuk continued. “Since Professor Tzuc is now in jail for murder and attempted murder, we need someone to teach his classes starting in two weeks. Would you be interested?”

  Jillian all but vibrated with delight. “Oh, my goodness. Yes. Yes.” With professionalism, she said, “Why, yes, Doctor Chel. I believe I’m available to teach this semester.”

  Kuk’s low laugh carried on the slight breeze. “Jillian, you’ll find we do things a bit differently here than at that stuffed-shirt university you were at before. We’re pretty casual. Give me a hug.”

  She flew into his open arms. “Thank you, Kuk. Thank you so much.” She stepped back into Jack’s embrace.

  Kuk turned his attention to Jack. “I’m sorry to bring up the whole Tzuc thing, man.” Kuk laid a big hand on Jack’s shoulder.

  “I’m glad he confessed.” Jack hugged Jillian to his side. “I still can’t believe he’d kill two people for those damned papers and journals.”

  “He had to be insane.” Jillian was right, but the man had cost her a husband, him a brother and a grandmother.

  “Had to be,” Kuk agreed. “He and Chastain made quite a pair.”

  Unwillingly, Jack’s brain brought up the picture of Johnathan Chastain lying at the bottom of the cenote. “Too bad you can’t convict a dead man.”

  Too Tall sauntered up to them. “What’s going to happen to Chastain’s salvage operation and tourism boats, especially the new one that just got delivered? Nice. Really nice.”

  Jack sipped his scotch. “Maybe we’ll expand the fleet.”

  “Hey, Jack, I got a buddy just getting out of the Navy. He was on the Teams. He’s coming next week for some R and R. Rock Star knows him, too.”

  “Bring him by.” Jack would take a good look at him. With Chastain out of the way, there would be additional tourists in need. And the man’s dive boat was top of the line. None of the crew was, though. Good thing there was a never-ending supply of excellent SEALs leaving the service every day. As for the salvage operation, he’d have to think about that one.

  “I’m sorry, but I need to steal my husband away,” Itotia, Kuk’s wife, interjected. Introductions were quickly made, and then she added, “Kuk, I really want you to meet the new Quintana Roo state representative. He’s on the tourism commission.”

  “Sorry, but I have to go play politics.”

  “Hey, Kuk,” Jack called as his cousin began to turn. “I’m sure in her excitement, Jillian has forgotten. She and I have to take care of a few things back in the USA. I’m hoping we can finish it up in a week so email and call with the details.”

  “No problem. We threw this at her at the last minute. A week or two delay of classes is no big deal.” To Jillian he promised, “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thank you again for the offer. Both of them.”

  “Soon-to-be Doctor Girard, you earned them.” With a wave over his shoulder, Kuk was dragged off by his beautiful wife.

  Too Tall looked at his empty glass. “I need another drink.” When his eyes lifted, Jack saw them hone in on a group of young women in short skirts near the bar. “Yep. I definitely need
another drink. See you two later.” He wandered off, grinning.

  Jack took Jillian’s hand, and they headed to the beach. The party had spilled over to there as well, so he took her to the dock where the speedboat was tied. They sat on the bench seat at the stern and looked at the star-filled sky.

  Now, Jack. Do it now.

  He pulled Jillian into his lap.

  “Darling, you know I love you, and I couldn’t love Addison any more than I already do.” Jack could barely see the green eyes he knew so well.

  “And I love you.” She dipped in to kiss him, and he lost his mind in the pleasure.

  But he had to get this out. Now. He had a plan. He pulled back, their lips still an inch apart.

  “Jillian, would you marry me?” There. He’d gotten out the words he thought he’d never say. But he never thought he would meet a woman like her. She held his heart, his hope, his future in her hands.

  “Two more. At least.”

  What the hell? “I’ll give you anything, darling, but you’ll have to be a little more specific. Two more what?”

  “I want at least two more children. Soon. I’m not getting any younger. I don’t want Addi to be a lonely-only. She needs brothers and sisters.”

  Children. His children. Jack had never considered it. She’d grown up practically alone, and the thought of that jabbed at his heart. Of course she’d want more kids. He could do that. He instantly pictured a little Greyson of his own. Hell yes.

  “Absolutely. Next obstacle.”

  “Now that I have a job, or actually two jobs, I can help pay for a house of our own.” As she looked toward the brightly lit Girard compound, the lights bathed her soft face. He could look at her every day for the rest of his life. In bright light, in moonlight. Didn’t matter.

  “Not that I don’t love the—”

  His kiss silenced her.

  “We’ll buy our own house,” he assured her. Since he’d never paid a dollar in rent, he had plenty of money. And it was time he left home. “It will have to be on the beach though. Any other demands? Needs? Requirements?”