Guts & Glory: Hunter (In the Shadows Security Book 3)

by Jeanne St. James

  If things had been different—

  No, things were what they were. She needed to accept that. To keep that at the forefront of her mind.

  A saying she once heard years ago popped into her thoughts: We can imprison ourselves with our wants, wishes, and false dreams.

  She couldn’t remember who said it, but it was true.

  Wanting something that might never happen can weigh down a person, destroy any appreciation for everything they did have, no matter how small or insignificant it seemed.

  She had discovered this when her dream had been to attend culinary school. Her mom couldn’t afford to cover the tuition on a teacher’s salary, so Frankie had done the next best thing she could think of. Working in restaurants. Stalking the cooks and the chefs in the kitchen, learning what she could, when she could. But waitressing brought in more money than a line cook, and that was where she’d have to start. At the bottom. She just never rose to the top.

  Even so, she had to appreciate what she did have. She didn’t have a large house, but it was hers. She might not make a lot of money, but she was employed. Even though her son didn’t have a father to love him, he had a mother who loved him enough for two. She might not have more with Hunter than the moments together in her bed, but those moments would be remembered for a lifetime.

  Not a “what if,” but a “what is.”

  And what she had was a man like Hunter currently in her bed and she needed to appreciate the time they had together.

  She didn’t know if he was waiting for a response from her, but even so, she couldn’t vocalize one and not let the disappointment she was fighting become evident.

  Instead, she brushed her lips against the soft, warm skin of his shoulder. He let her slip from his arms as she moved lower, sliding her mouth across his chest and down, her tongue tracing each ridge until she got to his navel where she circled it, then followed the trail of dark hair for a few inches only to veer to his left. She kissed the scar on his hip and whispered, “Thank you for your service,” then she moved on, pressing light kisses diagonally across his body until she reached his right thigh and kissed the scar there, too. “Thank you for helping us.”

  His hands slid into her hair, his fingers curling as he took hold, but he didn’t restrict her movement. She settled between his thighs and took him semi-soft into her mouth. But as his body arched beneath her, he grew to a point where she could no longer take all of him.

  Instead of words, she’d let her actions tell him how much she appreciated him, appreciated their limited time together. Her tongue swept along his length, flicked a pearl of precum off the tip and then took him as far as she could. His fingers flexed against her scalp and she tipped her eyes up to find him watching her with his eyes dark and hooded, his lips parted.

  “Frankie, you don’t have to.” His whispered words sounded raw, strained.

  She released him only long enough to say, “I know, but I want to. You’ve done so much for others, I want to do something for you.”

  She circled the tip with her tongue and his cock flexed in her hand. She tightened her fist, slowly working it up and down his length as she took her time teasing and sucking the head. Dipping the tip of her tongue in the slit, savoring his salty taste.

  His hips bucked against her. “Frankie.”

  “Hmm?” she hummed around his cock.

  “Fuuuuuck,” he moaned as she scraped her teeth lightly over the crown before swallowing him as far as she could.

  Then she took him just a little bit deeper.

  “Frankie,” he panted, his abdominal muscles dancing, his hips twitching, his fingers tightening almost painfully in her hair.

  She lifted her head. “Relax.”

  His brown eyes widened, he slammed his head back onto the pillow and barked out a laugh. “Right!”

  “Quiet.” She gave the same command he did earlier, then went back to town, with much more enthusiasm.

  “Oh fuck, baby.” He almost sounded in pain, but that couldn’t be right. So, she tried harder. “Damn... I... Fuck. Frankie.”

  She lifted her head again. “When’s the last time you got head?”

  He dipped his chin to look at her in surprise. “What?”

  “When’s the last time you got head?”

  “I think the question should be, when was the last time I got head like this?”

  She grinned, squeezing her fingers around his root even tighter. “I’m doing okay then?” she teased.

  His head shot off the pillow and he stared at her. Frankie bit back a giggle. “Are you fucking serious?” His head flopped back down. “Why are we having a conversation?”

  “Because you kept calling my name. I figured you’d rather talk. You keep telling me to think before I act, so I’m thinking.”

  His mouth dropped open, then he laughed so loudly, Frankie worried he’d wake Leo. He was still laughing when he said, “This time act, don’t think.”

  “Sure?”

  “Yeah, baby, I’m sure.”

  She was soaked again just from giving him head, but the warmth that landed in her center just then wasn’t from that. It was from him simply calling her “baby.” She liked it so much better than “loquilla.”

  Not “what if,” Frankie, “what is.” What is. What is.

  What was happening was what they had. No more, no less. She needed to avoid thinking any differently.

  “Ah, fuck, baby. Keep doing that and... Fuck it... Just keep doing that.”

  Frankie smiled around his cock and did just that.

  And not a minute later, his hips surged up, she took everything he gave her, and waited until his muscles became loose once more before crawling back to his side and tangling herself around him. With a kiss to her forehead, he intertwined their legs, and the two of them remained quiet until he slipped from her bed forty-five minutes later.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Hunter peered around the threadbare, sun-faded curtain next to the front door. His eyes immediately landed on the nondescript sedan parked two houses down, just outside the glow of the street light. Walker, wearing a baseball cap, sat low behind the wheel, and anyone seeing him might think he was taking a nap. He wasn’t. The man was on high alert.

  Mercy and Brick were in two other nondescript rentals, making rounds through town.

  Ryder was parked at the corner of Frankie’s block. Steel planted himself in front of Frankie’s place of employment. Even though Hunter had her call off work, Taz might still show up there looking for her.

  Hunter kept her home since Max Bryson had done the first press release at noon and it would be strange for Frankie to show up at work even though her son was “found” not a half hour later. The announcements went flawlessly.

  But that didn’t mean the rest of the mission would.

  All of them knew better than to expect that. It was when things went smoothly all the hairs on the backs of their necks stood. They were more comfortable when shit hit the fan. But for this mission, Hunter hoped like hell it went smoothly.

  He did one more check around the house. Scoped out the backyard for any movement, eyed the garage, made sure the shitty lock on the back kitchen door was engaged, then headed up the steps.

  Leo was already asleep in his own room, Frankie trying to read in hers. Even though she tried to hide how nervous she was, he saw it. And he doubted she was getting any reading done.

  He hit the head in preparation of a long night since he planned on keeping watch.

  They doubted Taz would show up this soon—if he was going to show up at all—but no one wanted to take a chance.

  As he stood in front of the toilet, the bathroom door opened, and he expected it to be Frankie.

  It wasn’t.

  It was her son.

  Leo was wiping his eyes with his fists. “Whatcha doin’, Danny?”

  Hunter looked down at his dick in his hand and then back at the kid, who was also staring at Hunter’s dick in his hand. “Taking a piss.”


  He shook his dick and tucked it back in his cargo pants, zipping them shut as Leo approached.

  “You didn’t sit.”

  “Only sit when I—” Shit, he couldn’t say that. “I stand to pee, little man.”

  “Momma makes me sit when I pee in da poddy.”

  “She probably has a good reason for that.”

  “I wanna try standin’.”

  Fuck. He needed to call Frankie in. Teaching a kid to “pee in the potty” was out of his wheelhouse. “Let me get your momma.”

  “No! Want you!” Leo screamed which made Hunter wince since the room was so small.

  “I... uh...” Fuck. “Do you even need to pee?”

  Leo nodded, his head flopping back and forth like it was too heavy to nod.

  Fuck.

  “Uh. Okay...” Hunter stepped back from the toilet and pointed. “Stand there, little man.” Leo scrambled into place. “Now, drop your drawers and point your...” What the fuck did kids call their dick?

  “Pee pee.”

  That sounded about right. “Point your pee pee into the center, then do your thing.”

  Leo blinked his large brown eyes up at him. And, Jesus, something tugged at Hunter he didn’t recognize.

  But Leo not only dropped his pull-up a little, he dropped them all the way to the floor, so everything was hanging out.

  Fuck. He lifted his head and was about to yell for Frankie when Leo said, “’Kay.”

  He could do this. He didn’t need Frankie. The boy didn’t have a man in his life, and he needed to learn to be a man. Even if only when taking a piss.

  But the kid was three. He could hardly reach the toilet. “I’m going to hold you up. Okay?”

  Leo’s head bobbed back and forth again like he had no spine. “’Kay.”

  Hunter hooked him under the armpits and lifted him above the rim and tilted him forward just a bit. “Okay, grab your...” Fuck. “Pee pee, aim and shoot.”

  Leo giggled. Was the kid setting him up?

  He was three, Hunter reminded himself.

  “Grab it and go,” Hunter encouraged him.

  Leo grabbed it and, unfortunately, his aim game was not on point. Hunter watched the yellow stream arc up and then hit the rim of the toilet, splashing them both.

  “F—” Hunter bit back his curse, took a breath and glanced down at both of them.

  “I shot it!” Leo crowed, laughing.

  “Yeah, you did. And this is why your momma makes you sit.”

  “Wanna do it again.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. Now, they both needed to clean up.

  Hunter heard a noise to his right and saw Frankie leaning in the doorway with a huge grin and her dark eyes full of amusement.

  “Just in time to clean up your little man.”

  “I’ll give you an A for good effort,” she said, fighting back a laugh.

  Hunter set Leo down away from the puddle on the floor and when Leo bent over to pull up his diaper, Hunter stopped him with, “No, Momma’s got to clean you up first.”

  “Danny’s going to grab a wet washcloth and clean you up, while Momma gets something to clean up the spill.” She turned and walked away.

  “I don’t want you going downstairs alone, Frankie,” he called.

  She appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide. “Really?”

  Hunter’s eyes dropped to Leo, then hit hers again. “Really. Stay upstairs. I’ll go grab some paper towels. You clean up your boy and put him back in bed.”

  “Momma, read me ‘nother story,” Leo interjected, still standing there with his pull-up around his ankles and his little T-shirt yanked up his rounded belly.

  “I already read you two when I put you to bed earlier.”

  “Wanna ‘nother one.”

  “Oh, well, since when do you always get what you want?” Frankie asked with a frown.

  “Since forever.”

  Frankie rolled her eyes and pinned her lips together. “You got that wrong. The correct answer was ‘since never.’ You don’t get to demand things. You can ask, but if I say no, then you have to accept that.”

  “An’ if I say no, you hafta ‘cept that.”

  Frankie’s head jerked back, and her eyes narrowed on her son. As her mouth opened, Hunter pushed past Leo and stepped in front of Frankie. He tucked a finger under her chin, closed her mouth and stared down into her eyes. “Baby, get him cleaned up. I’ll grab the paper towels and take care of this mess. Then I’ll read him a story.”

  And, fuck him, if Frankie’s face didn’t go soft and her lips part, an audible breath escaping. “Okay,” she whispered. “I think I just dropped like a dozen eggs, so you might have to double up on the condoms tonight to be safe. I’m not responsible for my fertility right now.”

  Hunter grinned and dropped his mouth to her ear. “We’ll use your mouth. And there’s another option, too. Shouldn’t be an issue.”

  Her mouth dropped open even farther as he pushed past her and headed downstairs.

  Three days. Three fucking days after the press release and nothing. Not one peep from the asshole whose sperm tagged her egg.

  Frankie was about to lose her mind. She knew the Shadows Security hot-as-fuck men were out there, watching and waiting. Following her to and from work. Sitting outside the restaurant while she busted her ass inside to make tips. Staking out her house. Roaming around Manning Grove. And doing whatever other secret squirrel shit they did.

  Hunter was on edge. Which made her on edge even worse. He was on his cell phone constantly communicating with his “team.” She tried to keep busy when she wasn’t at work by cooking up a storm, making meals and trying out new recipes that the chef at The Carriage House taught her. Somehow, Hunter would get those meals out to his guys and the feedback she’d get was positive. Full containers went out, empty containers were returned with requests for bigger servings next time.

  She gladly obliged but her groceries were getting low and her garden picked thin. That was when Hunter even allowed her to go out and work in her garden. He usually stood somewhere where he couldn’t be seen, but where he could keep an eye on her and Leo.

  Then there was Leo... Her son followed Hunter around emulating him a lot. Too much so. He was getting way too attached to the man who wouldn’t be sticking around much longer.

  Her son no longer wanted Frankie to read him a bedtime story. Instead, he demanded Hunter do it. And, despite Frankie’s annoyance at Leo’s demands, Hunter did it. He tolerated the short time in Leo’s tiny room to read her son a story in his deep, deep, pussy-clenching voice.

  Though as soon as Leo nodded off, Hunter didn’t linger. He’d bolt from Leo’s room, head downstairs and step out back into the shadows for some air.

  Frankie told him to stop giving into Leo’s demands, otherwise, her son would turn into an intolerable monster. Even at three, he had a strong personality that needed a firm hand. Hunter was going to spoil the shit out of him, then leave that mess behind for her to deal with when he was finished in Manning Grove.

  He ignored her. Which was why when two nights ago after they had a whole one-sided conversation about just that, she went to her bedroom by herself and locked the door. He could sleep on the damn couch or sit up all night on watch. She didn’t give a flying fuck.

  That was until he picked her bedroom door lock and secured it behind him, his expression not showing any kind of happy.

  “You lock me out of your room and bed again, I’m going to get one of my brothers to take him to the park, so I can teach his mother a lesson and we won’t have to worry about how loud she gets when I have her across my knee.”

  Frankie had to admit—reluctantly—that warning made her toes curl, her pussy pulse and every cell in her body quiver.

  And then he did teach her a lesson, but quietly and, while it was definitely not gentle, it was once again glorious. So glorious she swore she heard angels singing and cherubs flitting around playing harps afterward.

  After t
hat was over, she had no energy to argue anything.

  At least for a good fifteen minutes.

  But now, as she trudged up the steps after her long shift, her feet sore from being on them for hours, her face aching from smiling at her customers, and sporting a huge tension headache, she was ready for all of this to be over.

  Taz needed to expose himself so Hunter and his fellow Shadows could “take care of business.”

  As she hit the top couple of steps, she heard murmuring coming through the open bathroom door. Then she heard Leo giggle and chatter something she didn’t catch. Sometimes when he got really excited his words blended together and she had to make him slow down and repeat it.

  Which was what Leo was doing when Frankie moved in that direction, expecting déjà vu and a puddle of urine on the floor.

  That wasn’t what she found.

  She stopped short just outside the bathroom, seeing Leo sitting on the edge of the sink, wearing only The Incredible Hulk pull-ups, and Hunter, only wearing black cargo pants, standing in front of the sink, leaning toward the mirror, a razor in his hand, shaving cream on his face.

  The stroke of the razor was smooth and slow as he explained to Leo how to shave.

  He was three!

  And, more importantly, why was Hunter shaving off his beard?

  “Momma!” Leo yelled, but didn’t leap off the sink, coming running to her, hug her tightly and tell her how much he missed her. Hell no. He remained where he was near his new manly mentor.

  Great.

  She was losing her own kid. The one she carried for nine months, who kicked the shit out of her insides, and then gave her permanent stretch marks. That kid.

  “Don’t shave your beard,” she said quickly, but Hunter ignored her, stretched out his skin and made another pass with the razor on his neck.

  “I’m not. Just cleaning up the edges and giving the little man a lesson.”

  “He won’t remember that lesson by the time he has enough hair to shave.”

  Hunter dropped his hand and turned to look at Frankie. “He might.”