Lucky II (Patten Bodyguards Book 6)

by Stella Marie Alden

Suds eyes dart over the text then he shakes his head back and forth. “You’re a moron. This ain’t from Callie.”

  “So say you.” I try to focus with double vision and my stomach churns, wanting to rid me of the last half hour of drinking.

  Suds has no mercy. “Read the fucking message again, ya dumb Aussie. Your wife doesn’t text in whole words. No one under forty does.”

  Callie: I’m sorry. I don’t want to talk to you. I never want to see you again.

  What the fuck, over? He’s right. She would’ve written the you as a capital U. I fumble around and manage to find my text history. “Shit. They’re all like that. Someone must have her phone.”

  Suds puts an arm around my waist to steady me when the room spins. “I bet you a thousand bucks, her mother’s doing the texting.”

  I throw some bills down on the bar, force one foot in front of the other, and stumble toward the red exit.

  Outside, I hand the cell phone to my pal. “Call me an Uber. I got a flight to catch.”

  And one mother-in-law to set straight.

  Chapter 18

  Callie

  “Come now, dear. You need to eat.” My mother puts pancakes and bacon in front of me. The smell turns my stomach so I push the plate away and stand.

  “Maybe later.” Swallowing hard, I go outside on the deck where she can’t see how I hold back tears.

  I lean over the railing and call down to the dune where one of my bodyguards scans the beach with binoculars. “Hey. My mother has extra breakfast, if you want.”

  “I’m good, ma’am.” The on-leave Seal has been on duty all night, about to turn in.

  “How about you?” I turn to the other, a tall blond, leaning against the sliding glass doors.

  “Sure.” He winks, stretches like a giant cat, and heads inside.

  Like many of Patten’s part-time workers, they’re just starting out, some with families. Military salaries being what they are, Patten gives them a chance to make ends meet and maybe put an extra buck or two into the bank.

  I hop down the stairs and around the red paver-stones to the front door but still no package. Dammit. How long does it take for a stupid cell phone to get to the island?

  Tired of waiting, I meander back inside and lock my bedroom door in case my nosy mother walks in. Alone, I connect my computer to my neighbor’s wifi. I told the old gent my story yesterday and he was kind enough to give me his password. I open Skype, What’s App, and Facebook. Dammit. Lucky’s not online so I instant message the only person in the world who might be able to locate him.

  Me: I need help

  Suds: Hey lovely

  Me: Can you ask Lucky to IM me?

  Suds: I did

  Me: Do you know how to reach him?

  Suds:?

  Me: Can I call you?

  Suds: Sure

  My Skype rings and I smile for the first time in days when his face pops up on the screen. Maybe, just maybe, I can fix things with Lucky.

  “How you doin’?” I press a button to enable my laptop camera. Maybe if he sees how shitty I look, he’ll feel sorry for me and get Lucky to come get me. If not, bodyguards and FBI be damned, I’m going home.

  “Where is he, Suds? He hasn’t called, emailed or anything since I got here.”

  He shakes his head back and forth then presses his nose to the monitor. “That’s because you told him not to.”

  “Wha…? No, I didn’t.”

  He’s silent, giving me time to put two and two together. “Dammit. My phone. My mother?”

  “Bingo.”

  “And he believed her?” I want to wring my husband’s stupid neck.

  “Hun, listen up. Don’t tell him I told you but he’s not doin’ so well. I haven’t seen him this bad since we first got back from overseas. Bad dreams, not sleepin’, drinkin’… He’s a mess. He thinks he’s doin’ you a favor by leavin’ you. I even heard through the grapevine he’s thinking of reenlisting.”

  “Oh my God, I had no idea… Thank you for telling me.”

  “Sure thing. Listen, before you hang up, I want you to know how sorry I am about the restaurant.”

  “Don’t be silly. This isn’t anyone’s fault but those awful terrorists.”

  “I truly do appreciate you sayin’ that.”

  “Did the FBI make any arrests yet?”

  “No. Apparently, they’re still watching.”

  Shit. That means the two Seals stay in place and I can’t go home.

  After we say our goodbyes, I look in the mirror and moan.

  If my husband is coming, I need to look a hell of a lot better than this.

  Chapter 19

  Lochlan

  In the air, I manage to catch a few winks before another nightmare grips me in its terrible jaws. Drenched in sweat, I ask the flight attendant for a drink. When visions of the dead refuse to fade, I order another. These motherfucking terrors are getting worse. Like a cancer, they eat away at my insides and if I don’t get rid of them soon, I could lose everything.

  I shouldn’t work until I have them under control, let alone reenlist. How the hell did I become such a derro? Only last week, I was painting a nursery, going to birthing classes, and having sweet dreams of my baby girl. Now, my life is on hold.

  If this is some serious-shit disorder, I need to shove it right back into my unconscious, where it belongs. If people find out I got PTSD, no one will hire me.

  The plane touches down on the island and I wave off a bunch of eager cab drivers. The walk will do me good. After five miles of salty breezes and pounding ocean, I’m ready to do battle with Her Dragoness of New England, my mother-in-law.

  First, I need to see if Jason found out anything more about the terrorists. I pick up my cell phone and dial my handler. “Hey, Slate, any news on the kidnappers?”

  “Jason says they’re still in DC under the close scrutiny of the FBI… I thought Gray said you’re on vacation?”

  “I am but I’ll check in with you soon. Let me know if you hear anything more.”

  “Will do.” When he hangs up, more tension drops away. Even though the terrorists aren’t in jail, they’re not on the island, either. Finally, something I can live with.

  At the top of the hill, my jaw drops. Twin-peaked, the front of the so-called beach house has six cushioned rockers on an old-fashioned porch under eight white columns. The carriage and guest houses are both bigger than the home I grew up in.

  As I wander up the paverstones, a small brown man steps off his riding lawn mower and crosses the fresh cut grass.

  “Can I help you?” Frowning, he crosses his tatted arms over his chest, fists clenched.

  If it weren’t for the fact I’m desperate to see my wife, I’d laugh. Instead, I pull out my wallet and show him my driver’s license. “I’m Lochlan James, Calliope’s husband. Is my wife here?”

  The house’s many front-facing windows show no movement within. I was hoping she’d be looking out of one of them.

  The middle-aged man removes his Red Sox cap by the bill and scratches his head. “I think you should go.”

  What’s his beef? I take a step forward. “I need to see her now. If someone’s hurt her…”

  “She’s got two bodyguards with her so you better not try anything.”

  Shit. What the fuck has her mother been telling these people? Obviously, nothing good about me.

  Suddenly dizzy, I drop onto my knees. A thick mist floats up the hill covering my mates broken bodies, bloodied on the road. Heart racing, I squat to take a pulse, but they’re gone. They’ve been dead for years. My ears ring from the blast of the explosion as bullets whiz by my ear. At some level, I recognize I’m hallucinating and yet reach for my weapon. The insurgents are coming.

  “Hey, you alright?” The guy shakes my shoulder, the fog fades to the edges of my peripheral vision, and I take a deep breath.

  Fuck, that was a bad one. “A bit of sunstroke, that’s all. Can I get a drink of water? Is Pat inside?” The butler and I hav
e always seen eye to eye. I can count on him to welcome me.

  Cursing in Spanish under his breath, the gardener walks me to the door and rings the bell.

  Finally, a familiar face. I shake Pat’s hand firmly. “Good to see ya, mate.”

  He eyes me up and down like I’m a bloody piece of shit. “What took you so long? Ms. Callie isn’t eating, crying all the time. It’s not good for the baby.”

  The news knocks the wind out of me. Damn it. “Can I borrow a car? Directions? I need to get to her.”

  If they refuse, God help them. I need to put an end to her mother’s nasty game.

  Pat shares a nod with the gardener, still standing in the doorway. “We’re not supposed to tell you where she’s at.”

  A man with the grace of a warrior steps into the kitchen. When I turn, the Seal grins and shakes my hand. “Lucky, I presume?”

  I nod at the young bodyguard. “Yeah. That’s me.”

  “Well, hot damn. Grayson said you were on your way. Why the fuck didn’t you call?”

  “I tried. No reception.”

  “It’s okay, you two. I’ll make sure he doesn’t hurt her.” He winks my way, then waves me forward through the granite and steel kitchen, past a home theater with seating for twelve, and points up the stairs. “Second door on the left.”

  “And her mother?” I shudder and picture the horrible woman oozing out of the tiled floor like the wicked witch in reverse, her face furious and full of disdain.

  Pat slaps me on the back, urging me on. “If she shows up, I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”

  “Thanks, mates. I owe you.”

  “Don’t thank me, make things right.”

  I knock lightly beside a plaque, the name Callie spelled in shells and glitter.

  “Maa-ahm, I said I don’t want to talk.”

  After I pound harder, she stomps to the door, and opens it. Squealing, she jumps into my arms, kisses my neck, and wraps hers hands around my back. Then, her mouth is on mine and it’s like none of the last few days ever happened.

  There’s so much I want to say, to ask, to explain. However, her lips are as eager as mine and I’m swept into the moment, shocked by her heated greeting.

  My cock swells against her lower half in sweet agony as I slide my hands to her cheeks and hold her precious face to me. Her lids lift and the intensity of her love kicks me in the gut. I don’t deserve her and yet I want her with this selfish, out-of-control passion.

  I angle my kiss deeper, trying to say without words how much I fucking love her. When she comes up for air, she wriggles her hands to the hem of her sundress and pulls it over her head.

  Fuck. She’s wearing nothing but a tan and a tiny string bikini. She closes her eyes, moans, long nails digging into the center of my spine. I lift my arms covered in goose bumps and pull the ties at her neck.

  When the top drops to the floor, my mouth goes dry. “You are so beautiful.”

  Both my hands cup her full breasts, taut nipples teasing the center of my palms. I play with the endless flesh, she throws back her head with this incredible smile.

  I need her. I got to have her. She’s my oasis in the desert.

  Slipping my hands down her waist, I remove her bottoms while she fights to get my shirt off. I lift my arms to help her get it over my head. Hands finally free, I kick off my jeans and underwear while she jumps onto the bed, legs spread wide.

  Blood runs south at the swollen glistening lips between her thighs. I drop to my knees, pull her to the edge of the bed, and lick her warm liquid.

  One taste more, she quivers, and I moan into her. This is where I belong, where she belongs. Fuck the rest of the world.

  Every time she shudders, I do, too. Her nub swells, I nibble it, and press a finger into her wet, slick core. Slowly, I inch a knuckle toward her sweet spot while I suck her into a frenzy.

  Her ass is off the bed, body sprung, eyes clenched shut.

  “Look at me, luv.” I take her over the edge.

  While she’s still shuddering, I turn her onto her hands and knees and plunge into her honey. One hand at her hip, the other to her clit, I slide in and out while her muscles tighten around me.

  I grow thicker as I increase speed, making sure I don’t plunge too deep but she wants more. Her butt slams into me, rocking my balls, my world. Then, I lose what little control I had left. We slap together, the headboard bangs, and I grow harder than I ever recall.

  She reaches, digs her nails into the back of my thighs, and clenches internally. I thrust one more time and cum with a fucking shout to wake the dead. Ribbons of my seed shoot repeatedly until I’m finally spent.

  I collapse onto the bed and pull her ripe body onto mine, drenched in sweat. The smell of her in my nostrils, I sleep for the first time in days. I wake before her, touch her hair, her collar bone, and her neck.

  When she stirs, I kiss her lips, nibble her ear, and whisper. “Damn, I missed you.”

  She smiles and turns onto her back. “Missed you, too. I’m so glad you’re here. What took you so long? Did you take a few days off?”

  “A couple, but I have something important to tell you, luv.”

  “Okay.” When azure blue eyes lift to meet mine with brows raised, it takes all my strength to tell her the truth.

  “I told my old CO I’m reenlisting when I get my degree. He promised me a commission.” I lower my gaze to her belly, reminding me there’s two depending on me.

  She places her hands on my cheeks, lifts my face, and I almost change my mind from the sadness there. “You’re leaving me? Is that what this is all about?”

  “No, never. I got to do this, for our country.”

  “Bullshit.” She climbs off with short angry movements and grabs her bikini from the floor. “First, you send me away, then, you don’t call, now you want to reenlist.”

  “I called and called.” I lean over and dig into my jeans for my phone. “Here, see for yourself.”

  Her mouth shifts from grim to worse, then her brows scrunch. “My God. I had no idea. I thought I lost my phone. Why didn’t you email?”

  “Scroll through the texts. You asked me not to contact you. Even so, I tried but you weren’t online.”

  “Shit.” She sits on the edge of the bed, one hand on my knee, the other cupping my cheek to make sure she can capture my gaze. “Surely, you didn’t believe this. These texts are cruel. I would never say anything…”

  “After you were hurt, I was in a bad way. I figured you were mad.” I stare at the floor, the pain in her face too much to bear.

  “Suds was the one on duty… and yet no one blamed him. What’s going on with you?” Her hand caresses my thigh, then she intertwines our fingers.

  “You’re my wife, my responsibility. I didn’t keep you safe.” I need her to understand I’m toxic to her.

  “And what? You think you can do better from overseas?” She lifts my chin, all in my face, blue eyes blazing but I’ve thought about this a lot in the past few days.

  “You’ll be safer away from Patten and away from me.”

  “No.” She stands, grabs the tiny string bottoms, and pulls them on.

  “No what?”

  “No. I’m not agreeing to this.” She ties the bikini at her thighs, then slips on a short pink sundress.

  Guessing we won’t be making love right away, I stand. “It’s not your decision and I already made up my mind.”

  “It’s too nice out to argue. Let’s go for a swim and talk about this later.” She throws me a pair of bathing trunks and although she’s angry now, I’m sure she’ll see the wisdom of this later.

  Chapter 20

  Callie

  Thankfully, my mom and the Seals give us the space we need at the beach. We swim, come home, eat, and make love. For the first time since the bombing, I fall sound asleep, spooned in my husband’s arms. Somehow, we’ll figure everything out.

  “Fook! Get down!” His voice jolts me wide awake. Are the terrorists back?

 
Heart racing, I fall out of bed and slide under the mattress while it rocks from my husband’s erratic movements. He shouts in a weird mutter, thrashing wildly.

  With adrenaline coursing through my veins, I poke my head up. In the dim dawn light, I find nothing amiss in my childhood bedroom but him.

  His handsome face contorts in pain and real tears run down his cheeks as he tosses his head back and forth on the pillow. “No, no, no.”

  He’s warned me to be careful not to wake him in the throes of a bad dream but I can’t just let him suffer. Carefully, the bed between us, I reach over and poke.

  Lightning fast, he grabs my wrist, and lifts his other hand as if to strike. Instinctively, from my self-defense training, I block and elbow him in the chin.

  Eyes wild, he takes in the situation, and scoots away. “Shit. Did I hurt you, honey?”

  “No. What? Nothing happened. You had a bad dream.” I shoot him a weak smile which he doesn’t believe, not for a second.

  “Fuck. How bad? Be honest.”

  “You were crying and I felt so bad, I tried to wake you. It’s my fault. I should’ve known better.”

  He pulls me over to him, caressing my head, arms, and back. “Did I hit you?”

  “No, you grabbed me. Really, it was nothing.”

  “Show me your wrist.” I don’t want him to feel bad but when I hesitate, he gently pulls it from where I’ve hidden it under the pillow.

  Angry red marks give my lies away.

  “Shit.”

  Since we’ve been married, he’s only had one or two bad dreams. This one seemed worse than those. He looks so miserable, I’m at a loss for words and when I try to kiss him, he jumps out of bed and throws on his trunks.

  “I, ah. Need some air, luv.” He brushes the wetness off his face with the back of an arm then rushes out of the bedroom.

  Then, the front door slams, and his sneakers sound on the pavement, setting off a flock of crows. They complain with their cawing and if I could, I’d join them. I thought we’d start the day with another round of sweet lovemaking, not like this.