Drake (The Kings of Guardian Book 11)

by Kris Michaels

  Drake laughed, he knew where this conversation was going. “Infinity plus one.”

  “Uggg…no.” She held up a finger and then pointed it directly at him. “There are multiple infinites defined individually, and those shades of the reality are subject to distinctive operations and disparate laws. Why can’t there be the same functions for forever as there are for infinity?”

  Okay, so maybe he actually had no clue where the conversation was heading. He knew Jillian was intelligent but damn… He followed her concept of forever. The possibilities were mind boggling. He shook his head. “Is that the kind of thinking that led to your latest invention?”

  “What do you mean?” Her question held a tinge of…hell, defensiveness, maybe?

  “I didn’t mean to insult you, Jill. I’m immensely impressed with your mind. You’ve got a way of looking at things that are new to me and uniquely refreshing. No wonder you’ve been able to make advancements on old technology.” She nodded and looked out the cockpit window hiding most of her face from him. “I honestly didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  She glanced back at him, and it was possible her eyes held a bit of mist. “You didn’t. I’m used to people scoffing and putting my thoughts down as hair-brained and impossible. But it is the what-ifs that interest me. What if you didn’t confine yourself to thinking about processes the same way as your predecessors. What if you take the risk? If you fail, you fail…” Jillian trailed off at that point and stared out the window, lost in thought.

  “But what if you don’t?” Drake finished her line of reasoning.

  She swung her gaze at him. It lingered before she responded, “Right. I don’t want to be the one afraid to take the risk. Not anymore.” She fell back into that far away gaze and stared out the window again. In that minute, he saw the insecure seventeen-year-old with braces, and glasses sitting quietly hoping to be included.

  “I’m glad. So tell me about you.” Drake reached down and unlocked his chair, swiveling it a few degrees so they could talk more easily.

  “About me?” She chuckled humorlessly. “I’m boring. I got my undergraduate degree, went on to my masters and then my doctorate.”

  “Boyfriends? Relationships?” So much for being subtle. Drake felt his neck get hot. He’d blame it on the sun coming through the cockpit windshield.

  “A few. None that stuck around.”

  “Why?”

  “Ah, that’s the twenty-thousand-dollar question.” She thought about it for a minute and cocked her head back and forth before she answered. “I don’t think any of them were willing to become the men I wanted them to be. I have a couple of mandatory requirements. First, they have to be gentlemen, which is harder to find now then you’d think, and second, they have to be intelligent.”

  “So, you can discuss your thoughts with them?”

  Her head swung toward him, and she was clearly surprised. “Exactly, I mean they don’t have to have a doctorate, but would it hurt to be interested in my life’s work? I know it can be boring and repetitive, but inching closer and closer to that breakthrough is exhilarating!”

  “You never had a boyfriend that was a gentleman and intelligent?” Drake was feeling sorry for mankind on one hand and lucky as shit on the other.

  “Oh, I didn’t say that. I said I had a high standard. I lived with a physics professor for a year.”

  Drake tried like hell to keep his expression passive. “Did you love him?”

  “Love? No. It was comfortable. We understood each other’s work and occasionally bounced ideas off each other.”

  “What happened to end the relationship?” He wasn’t sure he really wanted to know, but any data she’d give up about her past would only benefit his future decisions, because having a future with Jilly in it, even as just friends, was going to happen.

  She gave a soft huff and suddenly found her fingernails interesting. “He found another woman.”

  “While he was living with you?”

  “Technically, I was living with him, but, yes. It was classic. I walked in on them together. He had her bent over the couch.” She swallowed hard and then shook her head. “That was enlightening. He claimed he didn’t have a strong libido. We had sex on rare occasions. Guess he saved it up for her.”

  “What is his name?” God, he prayed that came out non-threatening because right now he wanted to reach down that bastard’s throat and pull out his heart.

  “Who? Clay?” She shot a glance at him. He must not have done a great job at concealing his anger because her eyebrows shot heavenward.

  “Clay what?”

  “Oh…no. No, you don’t get to be offended for me. Believe me, I learned my lesson. Since we parted ways, I only hook up when I know there will be no strings attached. It is easier to keep yourself safe that way.”

  “But that isn’t living.” Whoa. Drake snapped his mouth shut. Shit, maybe he needed to listen to himself because he’d been doing the same thing as Jillian. Scratching an itch and keeping away from any form of commitment was the go-to game plan for Dixon and him. Hell, they even shared women so they wouldn’t form attachments. They’d tried dating separately, but that always ended before it started—no doubt because of the baggage each of them carried.

  She shrugged. “It works for me. For now. Eventually, I want the white picket fence, the big porch with a swing where I can rock my kids. I want pets, and a home and a husband that wants the same thing.”

  Drake considered her desires before he asked the obvious question. “What about work?”

  She blinked at him as if trying to understand his question before she asked, “What about it?”

  “Do you plan on working when you find this white picket fence scenario?” He figured if she was talking, he’d continue to rake in any information he could obtain.

  “Duh?” She blinked at him as if he’d grown a second head.

  Huh, well, all right then. He glanced out the windshield to hide his embarrassment. “That’s a lot to put on your plate.”

  “See, that’s just it. I don’t think it is, because I want a man who will stand beside me. A marriage is a partnership. It isn’t me taking care of him. I don’t want to be the only one cooking dinner and cleaning the house, especially if I’m working. How is that fair? I want a husband who wants a family as much as I do and is willing to do more than go out and work his eight hours. I don’t want one who comes home and expects me to cook, clean and wait on him all while doing my job, plus taking care of the kids and the house. That dogma is so nineteen fifties. I get that it works for some, but it would never work for me.”

  “I can see that. Most of the families I know at the complex are not typical.” Ember was a doctor and Joseph, well he wasn’t really positive what Joseph did on a daily basis, but the man lived for his family. Chief and Tatyana…well that relationship was as atypical as they came. Between the two of them, he got maybe ten sentences a month, but they worked damn well together. Anyone could see that.

  “What do you want in a wife?” Her question catapulted him out of his thoughts.

  “Wife?”

  She laughed at him. “Yes, wife. Don’t look so afraid. There is no law saying you have to have a wife, but if you did, what would you look for in her? Or maybe a him?”

  Drake felt his neck get hot again. What was it about this woman making him blush? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d let someone embarrass him. He stalled and checked gauges and readings that didn’t need to be monitored.

  “Well?”

  Drake shot her a glance, mentally grabbed his balls, and answered. “I don’t know. There are a lot of things that would have to fall into line before I’d ever think of getting that serious with anyone.”

  “Understandable. But if those things fell into line, what would you look for?” She turned in her seat and carefully lifted her leg, making sure not to touch any equipment.

  “Well, the obvious of course, someone who loved me.”

  “Of course. Go on.�
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  “They’d have to be okay with living with me at the complex. That is non-negotiable.”

  “Yeah? Tell me about that place.”

  “The complex?”

  “Yes, you haven’t said much about it.”

  “There really isn’t a lot I can say without trespassing boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed.”

  “Just how big is this complex?”

  “Well, it has definitely grown since its initial concept. Currently, we have thirty-five full-time employees. That includes doctors, pharmacists, medical technicians, PT’s, educators, managers, and various others that lurk in the shadows.” He grinned at his own inside joke.

  “All of this, and it’s in South Dakota?”

  “Yes. On a ranch. The family I told you about, the one that adopted Dix and me, the Marshalls?” Jillian nodded, encouraging him to continue. “They have a massive ranch. The complex is located over the hill from their ranch house, and they recently completed another long-term lease for an additional one hundred acres. Guardian has some interesting plans for the land.”

  “So this complex is thriving?”

  “It is.”

  “In the middle of nowhere?”

  “Well, it is remote, but there is a small town about a half hour drive from the complex. Hollister is about midway between Newell and Buffalo. Hell, it’s actually built around the junction of the highway. Go north, and you’re in Buffalo. Go east, and you’ll hit Newell. Neither of those communities are large, but they are hubs for the ranchers in the area. Anyway, Hollister is where most of the people who work at the complex live. The influx of income helps the community, and they, in turn, keep nosy people out of our business. Not that anyone usually comes looking for us, but when questions are raised, that town closes ranks. Some of the best people in the world live up there. They work hard because they don’t know any other way. Honest people. Salt of the earth.”

  He glanced at her and did a double take at her expression. It was soft and dreamy. “You love it in South Dakota. I can tell by the way you talk.”

  “I won’t deny it. It’s home for both Dixon and me.”

  “Where is Dixon’s assignment?”

  Drake let out a harsh laugh. “New York City.”

  “I take it you aren’t happy about that?”

  “I’m not.” Drake rolled his shoulders.

  “Lunch is ready.” Mark’s voice preceded him as he entered the cockpit. Jillian carefully extracted herself from the seat and turned sideways to slide by Mark. Drake glared at the man. He could have moved so there wouldn’t be any contact. Mark winked at him and headed back to the galley kitchen after Jillian. The asshole.

  Chapter 8

  Mark’s flirting was fun, for about the first hour. Jillian finally sought refuge in the bedroom, feigning a headache. Although Mark had a wicked sense of humor, he wasn’t the man she wanted, and that was a shame because he was very attractive and obviously interested. Had she misinterpreted Drake’s interest this morning? Perhaps the hand holding and small, gentle gestures were remnants of the friendship they once shared.

  She sat down on the bed and flopped back against the stack of artfully arranged pillows. Her life had toppled onto its head in the last twenty-four hours. Someone had tried to kill her. For what? Technology? No matter how she tried, she didn’t understand how killing her would benefit anyone. Did she plan on patenting the invention? Yes. Would it be a game changer for the energy industry? Absolutely. Low cost, high-efficiency energy that could power third-world countries and revolutionize first-world tech was an ultimate game changer. Would the oil companies and countries that held biofuel monopolies be willing to kill to prevent distribution of tech that would benefit the whole of civilization? Jillian shook her head. In concept, perhaps, but people really weren’t that evil. Were they? She didn’t believe in such things as paid assassins, at least not in America…not since President Kennedy. His death had been debated and dissected with everyone pointing fingers at random conspiracy theories both internal and external. The arguments for any assassination claims after that event had always been debunked, at least as far as she knew. That drama was reserved for Hollywood.

  She rolled onto her side and plumped a throw pillow to support her head. She couldn’t find a common thread for all the events of the last week. Well, except that they’d happened to her. A soft knock at the door produced a major eye roll. Mark obviously didn’t take hints very well. Jillian moved off the bed and opened the door.

  Drake held out a small packet and a tiny bottle of water. Jillian opened the door farther and let him in. “Mark said you had a headache. I brought you some pain relievers.”

  She took the packet from him and eyed it. “Can I make a confession?”

  Drake’s eyebrows drew together. “Sure.”

  “I don’t have a headache. I’m suffering from overexposure.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Mark is fine in small doses, but…” Jillian handed the packet back to him.

  “Oh, no fucking way. I’ll kill the jerk.”

  She grabbed his arm as he spun. “No, hey, it wasn’t like that. He was a gentleman. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.” That sounded plausible, right?

  The tension drained from Drake’s body. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive. I just needed a few minutes to be quiet and process…everything.”

  Drake nodded and glanced back toward the front of the plane. “I’ll head back up then.”

  “That’s not necessary. Can you be back here for a few minutes?”

  “The aircraft is on autopilot, and Mark is capable of flying the plane if something goes south. Why?”

  Jillian’s mind blanked at the question. Why? Because I like being near you? Because I want to learn more about you. Because I’m stupid and still reeling from my teenage crush and hell… Drake shifted on his feet, and she blurted, “I wanted to ask what was going to happen when we get to San Jose.”

  “We’ll go to your place and hang out until Monday morning. Keep a low profile.” Drake dropped into a small chair permanently fixed in the corner of the bedroom. “You’re okay with me staying in your apartment?”

  “Yeah, no problem. I have a sectional that is killer comfortable. I’d give you my bed, but it’s a twin. Somehow, I think your legs would hang over the end.”

  “A twin bed? I thought only kids had twin beds.” Drake extended his long leg and propped it up on the edge of the bed. “And, as you pointed out, you’re not a kid anymore.”

  Jillian groaned inwardly at her brash comment yesterday. Hell, was it less than twenty-four hours ago that this man had walked back into her life? “I did say that, didn’t I?”

  “You did. And I must say, I agree.”

  “Yeah, well being grown up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know?” She laughed and shook her head. “Man, I couldn’t wait to get rid of those braces and glasses, to grow into my body and stop being a gangly, frizzy-haired teenager with zits.”

  “I liked her. She was a good kid.”

  Kid. Right. Jillian took that hint. At least she knew he never saw her as anything but a kid. Well, congratulations, old girl, you’re the only one harboring past feelings. Good to know. She sat down on the bed and flopped back on the soft duvet cover.

  “Seriously, why do you have a twin bed?”

  “I have a twin bed because it doesn’t feel as lonely to sleep in it as the king-sized mattress I used to own. I guess that’s pretty lame, isn’t it?”

  “No. I don’t think so. You adjusted to help yourself feel more comfortable.”

  She lifted up onto her elbows and examined him for a moment. He stared back at her, his expression unreadable. “Have you ever been lonely, Drake?” She sat up. “I mean, I know you have Dixon, but is that enough for you? Am I stupid for wanting the dream? Is it because of my past that I want a family so badly?” She shook her head and then laughed, holding up a hand before he could respond. “Forget I asked. I
must be exhausted. I don’t make sense, not even to myself. You must think I’m a blithering idiot. Hell, I think I’m a blithering idiot.”

  Drake pulled his boot off the bed, stood up, and moved to the door. “Get some rest, Jilly.”

  “Jillian.” The correction was a reflex.

  “Right, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck before he spoke, “I do know what it feels like to be lonely. My brother is a big part of who I am, but is that connection enough?” He reached for the door handle and paused to glance over at her. “Probably not. I don’t know if everyone gets a happily-ever-after, Jillian. I’ve seen some of my closest friends find it, but is that going to happen for me? For you? I can’t answer that question. I don’t think anyone can. Get some rest.”

  The door closed with a quiet click. Jillian flopped back down on the bed and stared at the curved ceiling. She closed her eyes and drew in a breath. Her “happily-ever-afters” centered on a specific Prince Charming. Well, hell, she’d jumped ahead about a hundred steps, hadn’t she? The man had done nothing but hold her hand today, and she was mentally scribbling hearts and arrows and dreaming like a schoolgirl. God, she was pathetic. Jillian grabbed another pillow and shoved it over her head. Maybe she did need a nap.

  Drake stopped by the galley, warmed and ate the plate of food Mark had put in the small refrigerator for him. Jillian’s words echoed in his head. Being alone and being lonely were two different things. Since they’d been reunited, he and Dixon hadn’t been separated much. When duty or the military forced the issue, they did what they needed to do, but always came back together. Yet at times, even when Dixon was right next to him, Drake was lonely. Not alone, but lonely. He and Dixon filled that void with words, banter and bullshit. It was all a way to make sure people didn’t look too close, see through the smoke to the dark hollow places that haunted both of them. It never failed. People thought they were funny, or obnoxious, or intelligent, but nobody saw them as damaged, lonely, and hurting. They made damn sure of it.

  Jillian was a beautiful, intelligent woman, and she had a dream for her future. Drake couldn’t see himself as part of what she wanted. He had obligations to Dixon. Maybe someday Dix would find a woman, then Drake would be able to consider his future, but until that point, he’d manage. It had always been his responsibility to take care of his younger brother. Even if Dix was only twenty-six minutes younger. It was who and what they were. Two parts of a whole that had been broken and shattered almost beyond recognition. He’d slapped glue on himself and carefully pieced Dixon back together. Neither of them were the kids they had once been, but age and life hadn't dulled the need to ensure Dixon was safe, both mentally and physically. He’d give his last breath to his brother without a second thought. He wasn’t sure he’d ever find a woman who’d stand on an equal level with his brother. He wasn’t relationship material. Not now at least.