by Qwillia Rain
Going in low, Mike aimed for the man’s knees, sending him crashing into the flower bed. His suspicions about the other man’s fighting ability weren’t wrong. The fall would have stunned an untrained thief; this one came up swinging. His right fist slammed into Mike’s shoulder as Mike shifted out of the way. Using the momentum of the blow, Mike grabbed the man’s wrist, pulled him forward while moving aside and rising to his knees. Without the leverage of Mike’s body to stop him, the man landed face-first on the damp grass, his right arm pinned beneath his torso.
Mike gave him no opportunity to wriggle loose. With his free hand, Mike twisted the man’s left arm up and back, pinning the hand between his shoulder blades. The scuffle ended as Mike shifted his leg so his knee pressed over the kid’s forearm and his shin kept the kid’s upper body secured to the ground. With his right hand free, Mike tugged the gun from his jeans and tapped the threaded barrel against the intruder’s cheek.
Leaning in close, his voice soft, he demanded, “Who sent you?”
“I’m sorry. I was trying—”
Mike heard movement nearby. Every instinct braced him for the worst. He’d rattled quite a few cages over the years. Despite the anonymity of his position with OZ, traitors weren’t unheard of, and identities were often compromised.
Shifting his position and weight, he secured the arm he’d twisted against the kid’s back beneath his leg and settled his knee at the base of his prisoner’s skull. He tapped the barrel of the P226 against the kid’s cheek a second time. “Not a sound,” he warned. The kid had been trained somewhere. The lack of noise and speed with which he’d reacted to Mike’s attack was evidence of that. Which meant the threat of a dislocated shoulder or broken arm wouldn’t slow him down, but the surety of a broken neck immediately immobilized the guy.
There was just enough light from the streetlamps for Mike to distinguish the stealthy movements of a second figure approaching off to his left. Lifting the gun, his voice pitched low enough to travel but not loud enough to wake Lys, he called out, “Your choice. One more step and I’ll put a bullet in you and snap the kid’s neck.”
A flashlight beam landed on the kid’s face from a spot to Mike’s right. He cursed softly. Three on one. Not his favorite odds but he could make do. At the very least, if he made enough noise, Ben and Vance should arrive in plenty of time to protect Lyssa.
“Damn it, Corvus, what grab-ass stunt are you up to now?”
Mike relaxed slightly the instant he recognized Vance’s disgruntled snarl.
The kid groaned softly before replying, “Hey, Gunny.”
“You know this kid?” Mike asked, lowering the gun and blinking to allow his vision to adjust to the light from the flashlight. Ben stepped forward out of the shadows, flashlight in one hand, a gun in the other.
After releasing the hammer and flipping the safety on, Mike tucked the Sig into the waistband at the back of his jeans.
“Yeah, Lance Coolie Eugene Corvus. Corvus, apologize to the man for disturbing his sleep.”
“Yes, sir.” Corvus grimaced as he tried to shift his head enough to look up at Mike. “My apologies, mister. If I’da known this was your house, I’da never snuck up.”
“And disabled the motion sensors, the security lights, and tripped the perimeter alarms,” Vance growled.
“Yeah, that too,” Corvus agreed, before adding, “I’d really like to be able to breathe now, sir. Could you maybe take your knee off my neck?”
Mike shifted his weight and rose. “Interesting way to introduce yourself to the neighborhood, kid. I wouldn’t recommend you try it again.”
Rubbing his arm and rolling his head on his shoulders, Corvus eased into a sitting position, his gaze roving between the three men standing over him. “Wasn’t tryin’ to introduce myself, sir. Just wanted to see if gunny was still sharp since he’s been outside.”
Vance reached a hand down and assisted Corvus to his feet. As soon as the soldier was upright, Vance smacked the back of the lance corporal’s head. “That’s for acting like a gomer, Corvus.”
Corvus winced. “Aye, sir.”
“And quit calling me ‘sir.’ I may have retired, but I work for a living,” Vance barked with another pop.
“Yes, gunny.”
Mike stifled the urge to laugh at the soldier’s discomfort under Vance’s glare. The kid stood at least four inches taller than Vance, but he deferred to the ex-marine as if he were still his commanding officer. “I’ll leave you three to your reunion.” As he moved past Ben, he asked, “Did the alarm signal get to the sheriff’s office?”
Ben shook his head. “We reset it once the sensors registered a single body.”
“Figured you and Vance could handle it?”
Ben eyed Mike carefully before he nodded. “Been taking care of her for four years, Mike. One bad guy is a piece of cake. You handled yourself pretty well.”
Mike brushed at the grass and dirt on his jeans. He gave the excuse he’d always used in the past. “You don’t get through war zones and civil uprisings without learning a little something.”
“Well enough to take care of your lady.” It wasn’t a question, but one gleamed in the other man’s eyes as Ben watched him.
“About as well as you and Vance, I believe.” There was no need to go into detail, but he was sure at the first opportunity Ben and Vance would be making some inquiries.
“For how long?” Ben asked.
Mike lifted his bare shoulders in a shrug and admitted, “Forever. Whether my lady wants it or not.”
* * *
The nip of approaching winter was in the air as Lyssa waited on the porch of Pirate’s Folly four days later. The moment the front door swung open, she pounced.
“You told him about the bet, didn’t you?” Lyssa left no time for Mattie to answer as she stepped into the house and shut the door behind her. Mattie gave nothing away as she shrugged and led her down the hall.
“All’s fair in love and war, right?” Mattie chuckled as she moved into the sitting room and eased her youngest son onto the quilt spread over the carpet beside the settee.
“This isn’t about love, Mat,” Lyssa grumped as she dropped into the winged chair facing her sister.
Mattie eyed her closely. “If it isn’t about love, then what is it about?”
A sudden swell of nausea made Lyssa swallow quickly. She took a few deep breathes until the feeling eased. “Sex.”
Mattie’s eyebrows rose, and she tapped her chin with a finger. “Now where have I heard that excuse before?”
“Mat.”
The other woman ignored Lyssa’s warning tone. “Oh yeah, I think I said the same thing about Bryce and me a few years ago.”
Determined to put the conversation back on the track she wanted, Lyssa leaned forward in her chair and shook her finger at Mattie. “Don’t change the subject. You had no right to tell Mike about our bet.”
“I take it he finally asked you to pose for him.”
Lyssa stayed silent. Posing had little to do with what had passed between her and Mike in his studio. Her suspicions about Mattie divulging the details of their bet four years ago hadn’t surfaced until long after she and Mike returned to her home, he carried her to bed, and crawled in beside her. It had taken her nearly a day to recover. The other three days she’d been too distracted by the damned man and his determined lovemaking every night. His assumption about her growing used to his closeness was slowly proving true, which made Lyssa nervous as hell. That unease only cranked to full throttle when she caught herself thinking up ways to please him.
“Lys? Hellooo.”
Mattie’s laughter and singsong voice brought Lyssa back to the present and the question that had set her mind to wandering. “Yes, he asked me to pose for him.”
“Nude?” Mattie’s dark eyebrows waggled up and down in amusement.
“No, he didn’t ask me to pose nude.” Lyssa couldn’t stifle the gurgle of amusement that slipped free at the pout drooping the corners
of her sister’s mouth. No way was she going to give Mattie any more ammunition.
“Well, you survived it.” Mattie settled onto the quilt beside her son and leaned against the sofa. “And from the looks of you, your night at the Club must have netted a nice romp.”
“My sex life isn’t under discussion,” Lyssa replied.
“Oh, I think fair’s fair, sister dear.” Mattie cuddled Sean close as he crawled into her lap. “Not so long ago, you were tossing out advice about how I should conduct my relationship with Bryce.”
“I doubt Mike’ll get through the rest of the month without rushing off to some war zone at the drop of a hat.” Lyssa winced at the hoot of laughter her words brought out of Mattie.
“Woo wee”—Mattie lifted Sean up and grinned at him—“did you hear that, sweetie? Uncle Mike has Auntie Lys all tied up.”
Lyssa watched Mattie settle her son on her lap. Her own arms ached to hold the baby, but she knew what would happen if she reached for him. The need to have one of her own would gnaw at her. Better to let Mattie tease her about Mike than figure out the real reason Lyssa had decided to use her masquerade invitation in the first place.
“Is he tying you up? Or down?” Mattie laughed.
“Phfftt.” Her nephew bounced and laughed in her sister’s lap when Lyssa blew the wet raspberry at Mattie.
Mattie ignored her response and asked, “Yummy, isn’t it?”
Again Lyssa refused to admit how right Mattie was.
“If he’s half as good as Bryce, not going back for seconds is a losing battle.”
The purr in her sister’s voice had images surfacing of the nights she’d spent with Mike. “Okay, I’ll concede the sex is good.”
Mattie laughed. “Better than what’s-his-name from high school?”
Lyssa shuddered at the memories from that single mistake. “Yes. Much.”
“What was his name? I can vaguely remember him. Dirty blond hair, brown eyes. Curtis or Chris—”
“Craig.” Lyssa grimaced at the memories. Before Mattie could ask, she added, “We dated from sophomore through senior year.” Lyssa could tell the moment Mattie concluded the reason for the breakup, and Lyssa fought the habit of reaching up to rub at the scar on her shoulder.
“So we’ve established the sex is good. Mike is still hanging around. What’s so bad about that?”
Lyssa shook her head. “Give me a break.”
“Come on, Lys, fess up. You’ve always had a soft spot for Mike.” Mattie grinned.
“He’s a kid, Mat. It’s hard not to like kids. Or puppy dogs. Or kittens.”
“Don’t try that lame excuse. He’s the same age as me.”
“So?” She wasn’t about to admit anything to Mattie. Lyssa reminded herself, if she wasn’t careful, her little sister would be pulling the details of her bargain with Mike from her. Wouldn’t that just deflate all the little fantasies she knew Mattie was dreaming up? “There’s six years between us”—Lyssa motioned to herself, then her sister—“which means I’m six years older than him.”
“So, there’s ten years between Bryce and me.” Settling her son onto the quilt again and handing him several of the toys littering it, Mattie grimaced over her shoulder at Lyssa. “You aren’t going to pull some stupid ‘it’s different for a man than a woman’ thing, are you?”
“But it is.” Lyssa squirmed in her seat, only half believing the argument she was trying to make.
“Only if you let it.” Mattie watched her even as Sean abandoned the toys he’d been given and crawled back into her lap.
Her close attention and something in her soft brown gaze triggered Lyssa’s flight response, but she quelled it.
“What are you afraid of, Lys?”
I so do not want to go there. Just thinking about Mike staying and her having to confess to the loss of their child made her sick to her stomach. Lyssa shook her head. “Nothing.”
“There’s something more, isn’t there? What else are you afraid of?”
“Leave it alone, Mat.” Lyssa hoped her sister would pay attention to the warning this time.
“Can’t. I have the solemn duty of little sister’s to uphold.”
“Duty?”
Mattie nodded. “Yup. I take the job seriously. I carry the heavy burden of bugging the crap out of you. Especially when a guy is involved.”
Lyssa chuckled, appreciative of her sister’s attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You do that. In the meantime, tell me what has you scared about this. Mike is a good man. And he loves you.”
“For how long?” The thought slipped free.
“If I know Mike, I’d say forever.”
Lyssa flopped back in the chair, intent on ignoring the thrum of satisfaction her sister’s words invoked. “Do you think Mom thought the same thing? And Dad?”
“I don’t know. I don’t remember either one of them talking about it.”
“I do.” Lyssa squeezed her eyes shut for a moment to corral the emotions trying to take over. She needed to stay in control, but the urge to scream and yell was surging to the surface. “Maybe if they’d just dated longer, they would have realized what a mistake they were making being together.”
“I think they figured that out pretty early on.”
“Yeah. But not until after Mom was already pregnant with me.”
A heavy silence fell between them. Compelled to make Mattie see why it was foolish for Lyssa to believe Mike could keep loving her, Lyssa continued. “Dad used to make me sit with him when he drank. Day or night, he’d sit there and tell me how I’d ruined everything for him. That because Mom went and let herself get knocked up and refused to get rid of it, his life was ruined. All the great things he was supposed to do—college, business, everything—had been destroyed because of me.”
“Lyssa.” Mattie’s voice was rough with tears.
She couldn’t tell her sister about the nights their mom had sobbed out nearly the same accusations. How Alise Lawrence had regretted loving Aaron so much that she’d burdened them with a child that forced them to stay together. Mattie didn’t need to hear that. “It’s okay, Mat. When I grew up, I realized he and Mom made their choices.”
“But you don’t believe in loving someone?”
Lyssa shrugged. “Not the forever kind you find in books and movies.”
“Do you think it won’t last for me and Bryce?”
There wasn’t any worry in Mattie’s voice, more indignation. Lyssa smiled. Typical Mattie. “No, I think the two of you are an exception to the rule. I just don’t think it’ll happen for me.”
Mattie snorted. “Ha. That’s where you’re wrong. Mike loves you, Lys. And considering you’re my sister and he’s Bryce’s brother, I think the two of you are an exception to the rule as well.”
She only wished they were, but Lyssa refused to delude herself. Mike would grow tired of her. He’d realize loving her wasn’t worth the effort, and he’d walk away. Either that or he’d learn the secret she’d been keeping from him, and he’d turn his back on her for good. No matter the outcome, he’d leave and she’d be alone again.
Mattie cuddled her son closer as she rose and crossed the floor to stand in front of Lyssa. “Okay, we’ve cleared that up. What else is bugging you?”
Lyssa swallowed, unable to look away from Mattie. “Being alone.”
“Not gonna happen,” Mattie assured her as she sat her son in Lyssa’s lap. “Scooch over,” she ordered as Mattie shoehorned herself onto the seat beside her sister.
“We’re both a little big for this, Mat.” Lyssa chuckled as she grinned down at her nephew and scooted over as far as possible. Curvy ran in their family, so it was a very tight fit.
“Now don’t ever think you’ll be alone.” Mattie’s arms wrapped over her son and around Lyssa’s shoulders as she hugged her close. “You have me and the kids. Bryce. Even Jacob considers you another daughter.”
“It’s not the same.” The warmth filli
ng her went beyond the sharing of the chair with her sister. “I know if I need you guys you’ll be there for me. Even Gino and his boys will come running if anything happens.”
“I’m sensing a ‘but’ in here somewhere. And I’m not talking about the ones we’re sittin’ on.” Mattie leaned back to get a better look at Lyssa’s face. “You’re not telling me something.”
“I want a family of my own, Mat.” She pressed a kiss to Sean’s forehead as the sleepy baby yawned and snuggled against her shoulder. “I want a baby or two all my own.” Reaching her free hand down, she patted her sister’s thigh. “Don’t get me wrong, hon; I love all four of your kids, but—”
“They aren’t yours. I get it, Lys. No offense taken.” Moving her hand from her son’s back, Mattie rubbed at her belly. “If you want a kid, you’re definitely going about it the right way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Considering the genes on Mike’s side of the family, it’ll be hard for you not to get pregnant.” Mattie rested her head against Lyssa’s. “Maggie, Dylan, and Duncan were planned from the beginning. Not that he expected we’d have triplets, but Bryce did everything possible to make sure I got pregnant as soon as we married.”
“You told me about that. Are you still giving him grief over it?”
Mattie laughed. “Of course, but I can’t really be too hard on him. Being the big bad dom that he is, my darling husband and his doctored condoms have been quite useful. Not to mention he poked about a dozen pinholes in my diaphragm and made sure to conveniently ‘forget’ protection a few times. All ploys I’ve used to my own end.”
“To get Sean?” Lyssa stroked her hand over the soft blond hair on her nephew’s head.
“Yes and no. Sean and this one”—Mattie patted her belly—“they weren’t exactly planned, even if I did use Bryce’s tools against him.”
“How so?”
“I wanted another baby. Bryce figured the triplets were enough. So I made sure I didn’t use my diaphragm.” Mattie grinned.