“Alright, Silver, how ‘bout this?” Weston started and turned in his seat to face me. “Just to clear up any possible confusion in the future, there will never be a time you’ll have to wonder if I want to or if I will kiss you. The answer to that is, yes. I’m not like most men, and I’d venture to say you’ve never known anyone like me. Pleased about that. I don’t have the time nor am I stupid enough to fuck around with you. I’m a man who knows what he wants. I know what I like, how I like it, and I want to be surrounded by it. Does that make it easy for you?”
No. No, it didn’t. Not even a little bit easier.
“Silver,” he sighed, clearly running out of patience. “You may not get it now, but you will.”
“When?” I blurted out.
“When you decide to take a chance and believe you’re safe with me.”
There it was again—take a chance.
“I’ve never had anything good happen to me,” I told him.
“I don’t believe that, but if it’s true, then your luck’s changed. You take a chance on us and I promise you’ll have it good.”
“But—”
“Take a chance,” he whispered, leaning closer.
“I’m telling—”
“Take a chance, babe.”
What the hell, why not? What’s the worst that could happen? My heart shatters into a trillion pieces and I’m forever ruined and live a life full of cats and misery? I was already destined for that anyway, so what difference did it make? At least I’d have a few good memories.
“Okay.”
Before I could take a full breath and grasp the gravity of my acceptance, Weston’s hand was in my hair, his lips were on mine, and his other hand was on my cheek.
All of that felt nice, but when his tongue pushed in my mouth and he took the kiss straight to hungry, it went from nice to really fucking great.
Scary-great.
Crazy-great.
Desperate-great.
I should’ve played it cool, held something back but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how not to show him how into him I was. How into our kiss. How much I wanted to believe he wouldn’t hurt me.
So I showed him all of those things and I knew he understood them when he growled against my lips and pulled away.
“Just stick with me, Silver, and you’ll see.”
“See what?” I muttered, my lips moving against his, the way his had against mine when he’d spoken.
“You’ll see that I’m right.”
“About what?”
“All of it, sweetheart.”
My heart was beating triple time and I stopped asking questions. I knew what he thought he was right about. He thought I was worth something. He thought I was treasure.
And I wanted to be that, I wanted him to be right. But I wasn’t ready to believe.
15
Weston was damn near giddy when he’d walked Silver across the street to the office. And that was a first. The first time he’d ever felt that and the first time he’d ever thought a pussy word like giddy.
But that’s what he was. He was dizzy with lust, off-balance with what he was feeling for Silver, and happy she’d said she was going to take a chance.
He was on limited time getting her to trust him and Weston knew it was going to be a hard-won battle, but he knew she was worth the effort. Looking back, he’d known for months the woman was under his skin, even denied it when Nixon had called him out on it. But thinking back, he’d enjoyed every bit of their banter—even the arguments.
Most people didn’t stand up to Weston. While he was in the Navy, even men who were higher up in rank cowed under his stare, and didn’t dare question him while in the field. And the women he’d been with were all too happy to take a SEAL home for the night just to say they fucked him. There was no challenge, no arguments, no backbone.
But Silver wanted not one thing to do with him when they’d met and she’d called him an asshole within the first ten minutes they’d been in each other’s company. He should’ve known right then, it was love at first sight.
Maybe not romantic love, but he’d certainly fallen in love with her toughness and spirit.
Weston stopped to unlock the door and saw Silver shiver, reminding him fall had arrived and it was time to put the doors and top back on his Jeep. Not that he minded the cold, preferred it, actually. But if Silver was going to have her ass planted in his Wrangler, and he planned on having her in it frequently, he didn’t want her cold.
She was also looking around and not doing a very good job at hiding that she was searching the area.
“No one’s gonna hurt you,” Weston reminded her.
“I know. I was just looking around. The first time I was here I wasn’t paying attention.” Silver’s cheeks flushed and Weston fought back a chuckle.
The first time she’d been to the office was to bust his balls. Silver had been madder than a hornet and had let him have it. After she’d said her piece and got her pound of flesh, she’d turned and stomped out of the office without allowing Weston to respond. That scene had played out in front of Nixon, McKenna, Jameson, and Kennedy. As soon as Silver had slammed the door behind her all eyes were on Weston waiting for an explanation. He didn’t give them one, he was too ticked off. He also hadn’t gone after Silver, something he should’ve done. Instead, he allowed her to walk out and drive away. That had been a mistake.
“It’s beautiful,” she continued.
Weston agreed, it was. The small downtown area, as the locals called it, even though it was really only one main road and a side street, looked like a movie set. Old brick-paved sidewalks and the storefronts looked like they hadn’t been renovated since they were built in the eighteen-hundreds. Mature trees lined Fountain Park. A brick courthouse with an ornate cast-iron fence surrounding its well-kept lawn. An old firehouse in the middle of the block had even been converted into a hair salon with apartments above. And at the end of the street was a dock and to the right of that a small marina.
“When we’re done, I’ll take you for a tour. We’ll walk down to the water and grab some dinner.”
“I’d like that.”
And the way Silver said it he knew she would. Her response was breathy with a hint of excitement. Maybe he wasn’t as far away from earning her trust as he’d thought.
Weston opened the door and offered for her to precede him up the stairs.
“These are steep,” she noted.
“Yeah, they are. It was a bitch getting all the office furniture up here. Nixon found a bigger space and was thinking about buying it and moving offices but then he remembered we’d have to lug everything back out and now he’s dragging his feet.”
“I don’t blame him. Though maybe it’d be worth it not having to climb these every day.”
Weston had to agree with that, too. He was in good shape, worked out every day but he could admit he was over climbing the stairs every day.
They walked into the reception area, which was really a large room with nothing in it but two wingback chairs by the three large windows overlooking the park and a small table between them. Other than that the space was empty, and so it was the perfect place for two German Shepherd puppies to tear around. So they’d walked into the room and the moment they had, they’d been accosted.
“Oh my God. How cute are these two?” Silver dropped to her knees and was rewarded with licks to her face and jaw.
“Killer! Down,” Jameson demanded.
“Stop calling him that,” McKenna scolded. “You know you’re confusing him.”
Jameson and Kennedy’s dog’s name was not Killer, it was Tank. And it drove Kennedy batshit crazy when Jameson called the puppy Killer. Which was precisely why Jameson did it.
“Axel! Settle,” Nix commanded, and much to Weston’s surprise the puppy halted for a second, looking at his owner before he went back to attacking Silver.
There were more puppy scratches behind the ears, more cuddles as she picked up Tank first and gave him a sq
ueeze, then she moved to Axel and did the same.
“How old are they?” Silver asked, still on her knees.
“Fourteen weeks,” Micky answered, then went on. “I totally got suckered. Jameson and Kennedy brought Tank in and I fell in love. It’s like when you see a friend with their newborn baby and you think to yourself you want one because they’re so cute and tiny, but you don’t think about all the crying, sleepless nights, and diapers. That’s Axel. A cute little furball with the crying, sleepless nights, and potty breaks.”
“I could see how it would happen. They’re both crazy-cute,” Silver returned and smiled. “I’m Silver by the way.”
“McKenna.”
The two women smiled at each other and something settled over Weston. He’d been a little nervous about the two meeting. Micky had been in the office when Silver had come in to hand him shit. And even though McKenna was Nix’s woman, she was close to all of them. Loyal, protective, like a little sister to the whole team. And Silver had made a great first impression by bitching Weston out.
He was realizing he shouldn’t have been worried. Pure McKenna. Open, friendly, welcoming.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about your mad computer skills,” Silver told Micky and stood.
“Weston exaggerates.” Micky shook her head. “Did you get everything you needed? Weston said he was taking you shopping.”
“Pretty much.”
“Well, Kennedy and I are making a Target run later. We’re also hitting the mall. We’d love it if you went with us.”
Silver turned to look at Weston and warmth hit his chest, bounced around, then settled. He didn’t need her to ask his permission to go out with the girls, and that’s not what she was doing. Silver knew she was in danger. Knew he’d promised to keep her safe. And she was looking to him for direction, because she trusted him to keep his promise.
Fuck, yeah.
“Not a good idea,” Nixon said before Weston could.
And as much as it made him a pussy, he was happy his friend was going to be the one to explain why Silver couldn’t go. And when Micky’s smile fell and Silver’s shoulders hunched forward, Weston was more than pleased it hadn’t been him who had derailed their plans.
“He’s right,” Silver mumbled. “I really want to go, but I don’t want to put either of you in danger.”
Weston was happy Silver was taking the threats against her seriously but he hated it all the same. Hated that she was in danger to begin with, hated that her life was disrupted, and hated even more that she looked scared again.
“Next time,” McKenna continued.
“Next time,” Silver confirmed.
“Rumor has it you’re a maritime expert.” McKenna changed the subject. “While I’m waiting for my searches into your coworkers to finish I started looking at the maps and waterways more closely. I could use some help if you’re up to it.”
Once again Silver glanced in his direction, but this time warmth didn’t take over—it had already settled deep. It was something more. Something Weston would have to ponder to figure out, but it felt a lot like tranquility.
He came out of his stupor and nodded. “We’ll be here at least a few hours. Nix and I will be in the conference room working.”
“I’d love to help,” Silver said and followed McKenna down the short hall toward the back stairs.
Weston wished they were at a place where he could call Silver back and demand a kiss before she left his side. But they weren’t—not yet. However as soon as they were, he was making that a rule.
“It looks good on you,” Nix said when the women disappeared.
“What does?”
“Her under your skin.”
Weston wasn’t sure if it looked good, but it sure as fuck felt good. So damn good he planned on keeping her there.
“Right,” Weston mumbled.
Weston didn’t wait for his friend to follow or for his laughter to die down, he left Nix in the reception area to deal with the puppies and made his way into the conference room.
By the time Nix had contained Tank and Axel, Weston already had the thick file Alec had brought with him that morning opened and its contents spread over the table.
“What’d Alec say to you outside?”
“Head check.”
Weston didn’t need to say more, his friend would know exactly what that meant.
“I’m concerned the DHS is jacking him around,” Nixon said, settling his large form into a chair. “If they pull the plug, the contract’s void and we’ll get the stand-down order.”
“Yep,” Weston returned.
“You got no intention of standing down?” Nix surmised.
“Fuck, no.”
Homeland could scratch the operation but it wouldn’t hinder Weston’s investigation. He wouldn’t stop until Silver was safe.
“Could get sticky,” Nix noted.
“Probably.”
“If they pull the contract we’ll deal. You know we’ll have your back.”
“I know.”
Nixon chuckled at Weston’s curt response. But really, what else was there to say? Weston knew his team would be at his side. Never doubted it.
“She the one?”
Weston wanted to tell Nix it was too soon. Maybe deny he was feeling what he was feeling. Tell his friend to mind his own business and worry about his own woman marrying him and stay out of his personal business.
But he didn’t do any of those things. Weston had already denied it once, he figured it was a futile endeavor to do it twice.
So instead he told the truth.
“Yep.”
Nixon nodded and changed the subject. “Should we talk about Holden or continue to ignore what’s going on?”
Weston thought about the question and wasn’t sure which way the team should lean. Holden was obviously going through something. Had been for a long time. They all knew he was hung up on a woman who he’d deemed untouchable. A woman who Holden had avoided for years. That evasion started long before one of their teammates had died in combat, leaving Charleigh a widow and her daughter without a father.
It had started when Holden had fucked around too long, Charleigh got fed up, gave Holden a choice, Holden chose wrong, and Charleigh gave up the dream of a life with Holden. She married Paul and left Holden broken. The man hadn’t taken a full breath since.
The fuck of it was, Holden went to their wedding. He went to barbeques at their house. Get-togethers when the team came home from deployment. The type of man Holden was, he’d never poach another man’s woman. Especially a man who was a friend and teammate. He pushed what he felt for Charleigh aside and went through the motions of being happy for them.
But Paul was not stupid. He’d known before he started his thing with Charleigh that she’d loved Holden. Yet he still married her. Maybe he thought he could love her in a way she’d forget about Holden. And maybe he had. Paul and Charleigh had a daughter, they looked happy, they looked like they were in love, and Weston hoped for Paul’s sake he hadn’t lived under the cloud of Holden. Though Weston suspected he had.
Paul’s last words to Holden had been to look after Charleigh. Words that had fucked with Holden’s head and a promise Holden hadn’t kept. He’d spent years dodging Charleigh and Faith. But recently, that had changed.
“Give him his play.”
“But—”
“Seriously, Nix. We give him what he needs to sort his head. And what he needs is to go at this alone without any of us getting involved. We’ll know when we need to step up and take his back, but now’s not the time.”
“I wish he’d pull his head out of his ass when it comes to her.”
“Me, too. But right now, I need to focus on Silver.”
Nixon nodded and Weston got to work.
Ten minutes later Weston knew the players.
Fifteen minutes later he knew they were fucked.
Twenty minutes later he knew Silver was in more danger than they thought.
&
nbsp; 16
Three great days.
Three nights of torture.
Three days of getting to know Weston and the guys, save Holden who was still gone. Three days working with McKenna going over the different routes the drug runners could use and combing through background checks of the people I worked with.
Weston, Nixon, Jameson, and Chasin had kept me away from what they were working on. I knew they were investigating the names Alec had given them, but the men had refused my help. Which was fine because my time was better used going over maps.
My days were busy, but my nights were agony. This was because I’d climbed into Weston’s bed with Weston at the end of each day. He kissed me. He teased me. He gave me terrific orgasms. But he refused to allow me to touch him the way I wanted. I knew he liked my hands on his chest—he groaned and his muscles flexed and bunched under my palms. I knew he loved it when I kissed his neck and throat but wouldn’t allow me any lower.
Further, I knew he was supremely good with his mouth because last night, not only had he kissed me until I was dizzy but he’d used his mouth other places. Private places no one else’s mouth had ever been. And it was brilliant—everything he did was.
But I wanted more and was starting to get uneasy about why Weston was refusing.
This was where experience would’ve been a good thing. I thought all men wanted to move to the main event as soon as possible. And just like every time Weston’s hands were on me, I’d lost my mind and begged him to take me. All three nights I got “not yet” or “patience” and sometimes I got that combined or a variation, but the end was the same—no sex.
I’d slept in his arms, cuddled close, sated after terrific orgasms. I should’ve been happy. I’d never had orgasms three—actually four nights—in a row. But being the hussy Weston made me, I wanted more. I wanted everything. I wanted sex.
“Babe?” Weston called from the doorway.
I was in his office, it was early, and we were the only ones there.
“Yeah?”
“You want anything from Sam’s?”
Sam’s was the coffee shop around the corner. It was fabulous. The coffee was great, the croissants were buttery and flaky, and their raspberry Danish was to die for. In the last few days, I’d tried them all but decided the Danish was my favorite.
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