Drake (The Kings of Guardian Book 11)

by Kris Michaels

  “Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Drake asked before he took a long pull of his coffee.

  Jillian flipped a cross look at him. “No, hence the glasses. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting in my contacts.” She grimaced and headed towards the coffee pot. “Morning, Dad.”

  Cliff winked at her. “Morning, princess. Ready for a new adventure?”

  Drake watched as she tensed and poured her coffee.

  “Sure.” Her posture contradicted the confidence in her tone. Her shoulders rose as she drew a deep breath before she turned to meet Drake's gaze. “When do we leave?”

  “If you’re packed and ready, we can leave after breakfast. I’ve checked the aviation weather sites; the weather is clear for the most part from here to San Jose. Afternoon thundershowers are always a concern, but we have a beautiful day.”

  Jillian leaned against the counter. “How long have you been a pilot?”

  Her lips pursed as she blew on her coffee. Her bottom lip was fuller than the top, but the top formed a perfect cupid’s bow—an altogether enticing pair of lips. She took a sip, breaking his gaze. Shit. What had she asked? Pilot. Right.

  “You don't remember?" Her brow furrowed, and she shook her head.

  "Dixon and I started taking lessons in our junior year at Louisville. Our uncle's boss paid for them. After we got our license, we flew her to meetings and on short trips in her Cessna. That was so much fun we decided to take lessons to pilot helicopters. When we joined the military, we continued to get qualified in different aircraft. Hell, we were stationed stateside for the first three years of our hitch. Basically a nine-to-five gig. We flew out of a small airfield across town from the base and piled up certifications.” Drake shook his head. Gabriel had crossed their path three months after they hit their first duty assignment and life had never been the same. He funded their flights, certifications and extracurricular activities. The man waited until they finished their hitch, then introduced them to Jacob.

  Jillian froze with her coffee cup halfway to the counter. “Please tell me we aren’t flying to California in a Cessna or a helicopter.”

  He just smiled at her. Wait until she met Gracie.

  After breakfast, Drake loaded their bags into the truck. He spoke with each of the Guardian operatives who had watched over them last night. There was nothing to report, no suspicious activity or anything concerning during the night. He thanked them both and headed back inside knowing they would remain on post until they departed, and one would follow them to the airfield. Jillian was in the kitchen with her father. He could hear their voices as he entered the house. He stopped just inside the door, and Cliff's words drifted to him.

  "You call as soon as you get in."

  Jillian answered, but Drake couldn't hear what she said. He leaned against the door jamb. The Jilly he remembered had been quiet, studious and happy to be included in any of the numerous projects he and Dixon had worked on. Hindsight being twenty-twenty he could now see she'd been eager to be with them. Hopefully, Dixon would take time off after his assignment in that cesspool, so Drake could re-introduce them. She was smart and beautiful, just the type of woman his brother needed.

  "You need to tell him."

  Drake's ears perked up at Cliff's comment.

  "Why? What good would it possibly do? Besides, I still think he sees me as a nerdy teenager."

  Drake shifted his weight. He should probably go back outside, but her words held him superglued to the spot. Was she talking about him? It sure sounded like it.

  "Anyone with eyes knows you're not that girl anymore."

  Drake agreed with that statement. One hundred and fifty percent.

  "You’re right, I'm not that person, and I no longer have a schoolgirl crush on a boy who never even knew I was alive."

  Drake shook his head. He’d known she was alive back then. Hell, he'd gone out of his way to include her when she was around. Had he any interest in her other than being nice and involving Cliff's kid? No. But at that point, he and Dixon were just starting to live and experience the world without the confines of their past binding them. They were young, and they not only played the field, they dominated it. One thing neither he or Dixon would ever do was play games with their mentor's daughter. Even if she'd been a little sex kitten back then, neither one of them would have made a move on Cliff's kid. Through all the shit their parents had put them through, they'd come out with a healthy sense of manners and propriety. The darkest type of evil, like their parents, did one of two things to a person. It showed you the evil you'd become if you allowed it to consume you, or it showed you what you needed to fight against to ensure evil did not win.

  Drake reached back and opened the screen door soundlessly before he shut it loudly and started down the hall, letting the heels of his cowboy boots hit the old pinewood floors harder than necessary. He stopped in the doorway. "Are you ready?"

  Jillian nodded and leaned into her dad for a hug. "I'll call."

  "You better." Cliff hugged her before releasing her. He reached his hand to Drake. "Take care of her and yourself."

  Drake clasped his hand and pulled him in. "I'll look after her."

  Chapter 7

  "Wow, that is so not a Cessna." Jillian gawked at the sleek, black jet. It had a golden symbol on the tail along with numbers and letters. It was shiny, beautiful and ... big.

  Drake pulled to a stop and put the car into park. He smiled out the windshield as he gazed at the aircraft. "Jillian, meet Gracie."

  "Excuse me?"

  "Dixon named this bird. She's been the means of grace for many people. We've flown our teams and personnel to and from dangerous situations in that plane. She's carried our family and friends, and she's sheltered a few lost and hurting souls. She's our favorite."

  Jillian's attention was no longer on the aircraft. Drake's words as he looked at “Gracie” carried so much emotion her eyes had been drawn to him. He glanced at her and shrugged. "Ready?" Color rose from his neck to his cheeks. He’d been embarrassed by his outward display of emotion.

  The boy she idolized was still under the man that stood before her. "You’ve become an amazing person, Drake Simmons."

  He shook his head and moved to open his door. "I'm nothing special."

  She laid her hand on his forearm. It was a gesture she couldn't seem to stop, no matter how many times she forced herself to remove her hand. She felt warmth rushing to her cheeks, too. "No, that's not true. We've both had horrible childhoods, and we've both overcome them. I know genuine goodness when I see it. You are a good man. I can tell by the way you talk about your brother, your new family, and even Gracie, here. You care. That makes you amazing in my book, so please, don't shrug it off. Accept the compliment and let me admire what I see in you."

  He stared at her for a moment. "Thank you."

  She winked at him. "See, it wasn't that hard was it?"

  He laughed and stepped out of the vehicle. "More so than I'd like to admit."

  A man exited the aircraft and waved before trotting down the entry steps. Drake lifted a hand in acknowledgment and pulled their bags out of the vehicle. Jillian watched the other man approach. He was bulky, mid-thirties and bald. Tattoos covered his arms and peeked out of the collar of his shirt. The total effect was exceptionally sexy. He saw her and smiled wide. It was a fantastic smile she had no choice but to return. He stopped in front of her and extended his hand. "Mark Jenner."

  "Jillian Law. It's nice to meet you."

  Mark nodded towards Drake. "I'm here to make sure he doesn't screw up."

  "Like that would ever happen." Drake shut the door and locked the vehicle before he shook Mark's hand. "Where's the ground crew?"

  "I sent them off about an hour ago to grab some lunch. Alpha said he will send someone to get this truck, just send the keys to the office when you get back to South Dakota."

  "Will do."

  Drake lifted their luggage as if it were weightless. They walked toward the aircraft as the men spoke
, with Drake still toting the bags. She didn’t know how he did it so effortlessly because hers was heavy. Most of the discussion pertained to the aircraft and something about a flight plan. Instead of trying to comprehend the content of the conversation, she absorbed Drake in his environment. He oozed confidence. He and Mark joked around, but it was clear Drake was in charge.

  After they finished the walk around, Drake placed the suitcases in the luggage hold before he reached out and took her hand. The simple touch shocked her into a stupor. He continued to talk with the other pilot, oblivious to her current brainlessness.

  He tugged on her hand, and she followed him as they walked around the aircraft again. His thumb stroked the back of her hand as he spoke and laughed with Mark. They finally made it full circle and Drake released her hand at the stairs to the cabin. She missed the contact immediately, but his hand landed on the small of her back encouraging her up the stairs. She grabbed the handrail and used it to steady her steps into the aircraft.

  The opulence of the cabin stopped her short. Wow, she wasn't in Kansas anymore, Toto. Huge leather chairs formed a conversation pit, and a plush dark brown leather couch lined one side of the cabin. The chairs had end tables made of wood and gold accents, and the carpet on the floor was so thick her foot sunk into the pile. Stunning in an ultra-rich, you-must-be-dreaming way. She jumped at Drake's chuckle.

  "Not bad, huh?"

  Jillian spun on her heel. "Not bad? Is this real?"

  Both Drake and Mark laughed at her. "Yes, it's real." Drake pointed. "That will be your seat when we take off. After we get to cruising altitude, you can come up into the cockpit and visit with us. There is a jump seat up there. It isn’t the most comfortable in the world, but at least you won't have to be alone." He pointed down the hall as Mark headed toward the cockpit. "There’s a bedroom back there along with a full bathroom. I know you didn't sleep well last night. If you'd like to lay down, feel free to use it. Otherwise, there is a full galley through here." He put his hand on her back and moved her forward. A shiver ran through her at his touch. Damn, how was she supposed to concentrate when he did that?

  "The refrigerator is stocked, and the microwave works just like a normal one would. The only caution I’ll give is to make sure you secure all the doors with these little hooks when you open them or close them. Drake showed her the small latches. "Coffee pot here. Hot water dispenser for tea here. All the makings are in this cabinet." He moved through the galley and pointed out things she may need. Her head nodded north and south, but her mind focused on his light touches and soft tone.

  "Drake, the ground crew is ready."

  She jumped at Mark's voice over the plane's intercom.

  "I'm going to close up the aircraft. You get yourself strapped in. I'll let you know when you can move around. Okay?"

  Jillian nodded and made her way to the huge leather chair where she strapped in as Drake closed the main cabin door. He winked at her as he headed to the cockpit. Jillian watched him settle into the left side seat and put on his headphones. Something Mark said made him laugh. The sight of the man in his element, and happy, stole a piece of her heart. All the admiration she had for him as a teenager came rolling back in a wave the size of a tsunami. She could feel it swelling but the emotions she once felt for the man were nothing compared to the place she now found herself. She could very easily lose herself in Drake Simmons. If he treated her with the same disregard now as he had then…the heartache she’d suffered as a young woman would be nothing compared to what she’d suffer now.

  They hadn’t been airborne twenty seconds before his co-pilot started in on him. “That is one hella beautiful woman you got there. When did you latch on to her?”

  Drake smiled at Mark’s words. He made sure the coordinates were entered into the plane’s navigation system and engaged the autopilot function as he replied, “I haven’t latched on to her.”

  “No?” Mark’s hand stalled as it reached for a switch above his head.

  “No.” Drake reached over and completed the move for his co-pilot.

  “Then you wouldn’t mind if I got to know her better?” The shit eating grin Mark gave him indicated he knew exactly how much it would bother Drake if he started hitting on Jillian.

  “What do you think, asshole?” There was no malice in Drake’s reply, just two men tossing harmless barbs at each other.

  “Wow, no need to get defensive, cowboy. You said you hadn’t latched on to her, so that makes her available, right?”

  Mark’s pearly whites made a brilliant appearance in a smile so innocent Drake laughed. “She’s an old friend. I’ve known her since she was…hell, sixteen or seventeen, maybe? She was in high school when we first met her dad. We lost track of each other for about ten or twelve years.”

  Mark’s brow furrowed. “Dude, how the fuck do you lose track of something like her?”

  “Easy. You join the military, get recruited to Guardian, fight alongside your team through the devil’s armpit of pure evil, get shot at, blown up, and try like hell to find ground zero after they patch you back together.”

  Mark blinked and then nodded. “There is that.” He glanced back toward the cabin. “What’s her story?”

  “She’s in need of a PSO. I’m available, so I took the assignment.”

  “Since when do you work as a PSO? I mean, I get that you were on one of the original teams, but PSO?”

  “The original Alpha Team, yeah,” Drake confirmed.

  “Dude, we need to sit down and have a case of beers. I’d love to hear some of your war stories.”

  “Yeah, someday.” Drake would never take the man up on his offer. What he and his brothers in arms went through was classified and in no way eligible for a drunken episode of Spill Your Guts.

  “So how do you rate PSO duties?”

  Drake answered, “I’ve been training Personal Security Officers for…damn, almost four years now. It started out as physical training. Then we went down a trainer, and I stepped in. The classes are intense and focused. I learned as the class learned and then I started developing logical, follow-on classes. When we finally got a new instructor, I kept my fingers in the pot, so to speak.” Meaning he approved all the training plans, taught four classes on explosive and incendiary devices and, in conjunction with Dixon, oversaw all physical training at the complex.

  “So she’s got a stalker or something?” Mark glanced back into the cabin. “I could see how someone could be obsessive about her.”

  “She had some threats because of some work she’s doing. It will be a quick out and back. We need to retrieve some equipment in San Jose. We’ll get what she needs Monday morning and then we’ll head to the complex in South Dakota.”

  “A weekend in San Jose? I could do worse.” Mark reached over and unbuckled his seatbelt. “Seriously, you got no claim on her? You mind if I see if she’s interested?”

  His jaw tightened at the question. No, he didn’t want Mark hitting on Jilly. Mark was a well-known carouser. He had an entire bed frame notched with his conquests—surprising the thing still held together. But Drake had zero right to make any decisions for Jillian, other than ones to ensure her safety. He shrugged and turned away, “Take your best shot, man. She’s her own person.”

  “Right. Thanks for the clearance. I’m going to rustle up some lunch for us because I’m starved. I’ll send her up here until I get done. You want anything?”

  “Dude, I’m not turning down food.”

  Mark winked at him and extracted himself from the co-pilot’s seat. Drake could hear their voices, although the words escaped him. Jillian’s laughter, however, did not. It made him smile. When Jilly laughed, it came from deep inside her, and nobody could doubt the woman’s joy.

  “Mark said it was okay to come up?”

  Drake turned and saw Jillian braced against the small door. “Absolutely. You can sit there,” Drake nodded to a fold-down jump seat, “…or in Mark’s seat. Just be careful not to touch anything as you climb in.�
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  Her eyes rounded and she pointed to the vacant co-pilot position. “Really? I can sit up there?”

  “For a while, sure.”

  “Wow.” She moved cautiously into the cockpit and bent down, nimbly sitting in the seat, being careful not to come close to the instruments. “Best view, ever.”

  “Not bad is it?”

  “Not bad? Seriously, you could charge ten times the price of first class for a thrill like this.”

  “I think the FAA would have a problem with that.”

  “Probably, but wow.” Jillian leaned forward and then to the side. “I can see forever.”

  “I don’t think forever is a distance,” he deadpanned as he watched her.

  “Hey, don’t be a wise ass, and aren’t you supposed to be flying this?”

  “Autopilot. Forever isn’t a distance. I wasn’t being a wise ass.” He lifted a finger with each point in challenge.

  “Really? Last time I checked forever is a continuum. It could be considered a measure of distance. If you weren’t being a wiseass, you were being a smart ass or just an ass. I’m not sure which right now.”

  “Probably just an ass, Dixon says it’s my default setting. And while forever is an expression of a continuum, it is not a measurement of distance; it is a measure of time.”

  “A pragmatic and uninventive use of a new concept. Open your mind to the unlimited possibilities!” Jillian narrowed her eyes at him before a small smile flitted across her expression. “Infinity.”