Love Is In the Air Volume 1

by Susan Stoker

  It was the ringtone that woke Magic. The only reason he was reaching for Stella’s phone was because he knew it was Holly. If something was wrong, his woman would want to know. The screen was still lit and the text visible.

  Holly: Definitely a 12 on a scale of 1 to 10.

  Magic’s lips twitched.

  A twelve, huh? Good for Dash. Better for Holly.

  Seriously fucking good for Magic.

  He rolled, taking a naked Stella with him, and decided on a course of action.

  “Magic?”

  Fuck, he loved her voice. “Wake up, baby.”

  “Huh? Why?”

  “I wanna show you something,” he told her and lowered his mouth to her nipple and drew it into his mouth.

  “Show me what?”

  His tongue swirled around the now-hard peak and he answered, “What a thirteen looks like.”

  “A thirteen?”

  “A thirteen,” he confirmed. Then added, “Hands and knees, baby, I’m gonna show you just how dirty a thirteen is.”

  “Oh, God.”

  An hour later when they bedded down, sweaty and spent, Stella mumbled, “That wasn’t dirty, that was filthy.”

  Hell yeah it was. It was also shrouded in love and the best sex he’d ever had.

  4

  Magic pulled his cell from his pocket to text Stella and saw he’d missed a text while he was in his brief.

  Stella: Change of plans. I’ll meet you at the picnic table.

  There were smiley faces, hearts, and a green alien after the message.

  Pure Stella. Cute.

  “You got plans?” Dash asked as he made his way out into the hallway.

  “Meeting Stella.”

  His friend looked like he wanted to give him shit about the amount of time he spent with Stella, even though Dash hadn’t missed an opportunity to spend time with Holly either.

  Over the last month, he’d taken his woman out to lunch every day. They usually stayed on post since they both only got an hour, but they still connected even though they woke up together every morning. Magic knew it wouldn’t last forever, so he was taking advantage. Work-ups would start up again soon, and then there was always the possibility he could get called up for a mission with next to no notice. Which would mean from call-in to wheels-up, he could be flying across the ocean within a few hours. So, yeah, he was taking all he could get, but he was also giving Stella what she needed to get her through the times she wouldn’t have him.

  Even though she was a civilian, she understood the rigors of his job. Actually, there might be times she’d know before him if he was getting ready to deploy, depending on the intel she translated. She’d told him repeatedly she knew what she was getting into and had no problem with his unpredictable schedule, and he believed her. Stella was the most independent woman he knew. She and Holly had once talked about moving in together but decided they both liked their privacy and alone time. That was something else about Stella that Magic liked, she was totally comfortable in her own company.

  “You look like you’re in pain,” Magic continued.

  “And you look like you’re asking for a busted lip,” Dash volleyed with no heat.

  “Just saying, it looks painful, you not cracking a joke about the time I spend with Stella, knowing I got a whole arsenal of comebacks about how much time you spend with your woman.”

  A look Magic didn’t like stole over his friend’s expression. The man looked smug—and knowing Dash the way he did that could mean bad news for Magic.

  “How’s your ass?” Dash inquired.

  “Come again?”

  Unable to contain his laughter, Dash lost the battle, and in the hallway outside of the briefing room where the rest of his teammates were still congregated Dash busted a gut. His laughter echoed on the walls, magnifying the sound and drawing unwanted attention.

  Stella.

  His sweet Stella was an over-sharer.

  “Your ass…” Dash sputtered. “I hope you got cream on those burns.”

  Asshole.

  “You don’t put cream on rug burns, dipshit.”

  “Right.”

  Fucking Dash.

  “How’s your ass? Heard all about the slip and fall in the shower. Dropped the soap, did ya?”

  One…two…and there it was.

  Recognition dawned and Dash flushed.

  “Dude, you’re blushing,” Magic pointed out.

  “I’m confiscating that damn cellphone,” Dash grumbled.

  “Good luck with that.”

  With a lift of his chin Magic left his friend still mumbling about text messages. Dash didn’t give a shit the women shared. He didn’t either. Mostly it was amusing…unless Magic had carpet burns on his ass because his woman had met him at the front door and had been in a certain kind of mood. A mood Magic wholeheartedly agreed with. Mentioning the text message was a joke, a segue into busting his buddy’s chops about falling in the shower, and had nothing to do with Stella’s enthusiastic greeting. No, that was all about the flowers he’d sent her.

  Mental note: order more flowers for Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

  Magic made his way around the side of Division HQ, staying on the sidewalk, careful not to step on the precious grass that would get him an ass-chewing if he dared cut across it. His thoughts went from the time cutting across the parade grounds would save him to tomorrow night’s plans. He wanted everything perfect for his first Valentine’s Day with Stella, the woman who had quickly become the center of his universe. She deserved the memory, something special she could tell their children about. It was too soon for a ring. Though if he thought he could get away with it, he’d ask her to marry him and slip a big, fat diamond on her finger.

  As it was, he was going to push his luck and ask her to move in with him, or him with her. This two-apartment shit was silly. They lived next door to each other, shared a wall, all they’d done since the first night they’d slept together was bed hop. His or hers—that was the question, not if they’d be sleeping together.

  The sound of gunfire rent the air, and Magic froze. His hand went to his hip and he cursed when he didn’t find his sidearm.

  The second burst of gunfire reminded him he was not in the desert, he was on post, meeting Stella for lunch.

  Stella.

  Fuck.

  Without a second thought about the shooter’s location, Magic took off in a sprint toward the picnic area. His only objective was to get Stella to safety; then and only then would he look for the gunman. His heartrate spiked when he thought of her sitting on top of the bench waiting for him. His beautiful Stella would be an easy target. There wasn’t even a goddamn tree she could use as cover.

  More shots, coupled with panic-filled shouts and high-pitched screaming as he rounded the corner. Not breaking stride, he scanned the area, not seeing the shooter. The parking lot for the post exchange was full as was the lot for the commissary. Too many cars to hide behind, too many damn people running for cover. Total mayhem.

  Another volley coupled with glass shattering pushed him to run faster. The daycare center just beyond the picnic area came into view and anger started to tick up his spine. It was the middle of the day, the center would be full of children.

  Where the hell was Dash? Was he meeting Holly at the PX for lunch? Magic hadn’t asked, instead, he’d given his friend shit. How the hell had his day turned to shit? One minute he’d been planning the perfect Valentine’s Day for his woman, the next, Fort Hood was under attack. A post on US soil.

  How in the fuck did that happen?

  Easy.

  No gun, no comms, no team at his back, a knife in his pocket. Shit odds bringing a knife to a gunfight. Luckily, Magic was good with a blade and he didn’t mind messy. Getting close would be the issue. He’d get Stella to safety, take out the shooter, then find Dash.

  Fuck, where was Stella?

  Sirens wailed in the background just as the picnic table came into view. No Stella. He wasn’t sure if that w
as good or bad. He hoped she’d heard the shots and run. The problem was, which way did she run—to cover or toward the crazy asshole shooting?

  He didn’t have to wait long for his answer—no cover, no safety, out in the open on her knees. And blood.

  Jesus fuck.

  Magic’s long, pounding strides ate up the distance and he skidded to a halt in front of her and accessed the situation. Their lunch lay abandoned on the benches, Stella uninjured on her knees in the grass leaning over a wounded soldier, blood coating her hands. No shooter in sight, they needed to move.

  “Stella.”

  Wild, scared blue eyes lifted to his and anger turned to murderous intent. No sparkling blue, no joy, no humor—all of that gone. Fear rolled off of her in waves.

  Calm. She needed him calm and in control. It was easy to slip into his role now that he knew she was unharmed. This was what he did. This was who he was, a deadly operator, a man he’d hoped she’d never see.

  “I saw him running this way then he collapsed. He’s been shot. I had to come back for him.”

  Magic looked back down at the soldier who had indeed taken a bullet to the chest, if the red staining the middle of his uniform was any indication he was critical. A bullet that wouldn’t have penetrated if the man had been wearing a vest. A goddamn vest the kid shouldn’t have to wear walking around Fort Hood.

  “We need to move.” Magic reached down to lift Stella but she jerked away. “Stella!”

  “I’m not leaving him.”

  “Neither am I. But we need to move, now. Stand up.”

  “Oh my God,” she whimpered.

  He didn’t have to look, he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand, alerting him to the danger, the sixth sense that had served him well and saved his ass many times overseas. The intuition that had failed to alert him in time to save his woman.

  Fuck.

  Stella’s face bleached and her body went solid. Magic craned his neck and saw a man in Army uniform running their way holding a semi-auto rifle. Shooter or MP? Confusion and anger warred until Magic heard the unmistakable battle cry then straight up fury took over.

  “Allahu Akbar.”

  He didn’t need to speak Arabic to know what that meant. He’d heard the phrase many times over the years, however, he never thought he’d hear it when his woman was leaning over a bleeding soldier trying to stem the flow of blood from a mortal chest wound. He never thought he’d be unarmed, unable to protect himself and those around him while a man yelled God is the greatest.

  Magic maneuvered himself in front of Stella and quelled his impulse to charge the man closing in on them. He had no backup, no sniper in position, no one to lay down cover fire. No communication with his team. His body the only thing between Stella and the barrel of a high-powered rifle. Flesh and bone were no match for the .556 round, but at least the bullet would have to go through him before it hit Stella. He would be her shield.

  The man was speaking rapid-fire Arabic, waving his gun around but thankfully not pulling the trigger.

  “What’s he saying?” Magic asked Stella.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  Magic gritted his teeth and pulled up all the patience he could muster, which was to say not much. When he repeated his question, it was cold and harsh.

  “What is he saying?”

  “He’s saying he must kill infidels. He keeps repeating it. For his brothers, he must kill Americans.”

  The man standing in front of him was wearing a US military uniform—easy enough to get, but Magic could swear he’d seen him before coming out of the DEFAC. The two bars on the man’s chest patch said he was a captain.

  What the fuck?

  Stella’s hand wrapped around Magic’s calf. He ignored the way her hand shook. Control. He had to stay in control. Once he beat back the homicidal rage, and the need to scoop up his woman and run subsided, he asked, “What’d he say now?”

  “That you’re his ticket to paradise.”

  Magic knew he should be trying to talk the man down, negotiate, but to do that, he’d have to go through Stella, and the thought of her conversing with a madman had Magic’s gut churning.

  There was a movement in his peripheral; someone had peeked around the corner of the PX building then disappeared. Stella’s fingers tightened. She’d seen it too but the gunman had not.

  “Keep your eyes down.” He wished his order had come out softer, but the gun pointed at his chest had him on edge.

  If he died, Stella would be next.

  And that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Tell him I’m unarmed and will go with him.”

  “What?”

  Christ, he hated the wobble in Stella’s voice. He seriously hated asking her to communicate with the asshole but he needed to keep the guy talking, not shooting.

  “Tell him, Stella. I’ll go with him.” He waited a moment, which was a moment too long before he continued. “Now. I need you to trust me and tell him I’m unarmed and—”

  Magic’s request was cut off when Stella started speaking in Arabic. The shooter’s eyes narrowed, either in shock that she spoke his language or outrage at Magic’s offer. Either way, it was a bad sign.

  “He said, he doesn’t need you to go anywhere with him, he’s going to kill us both right here.”

  Fuck. Where the hell were the MPs, and why the fuck wasn’t he allowed to wear a sidearm on post? The shit wouldn’t have been a problem if he’d been armed with more than a goddamn knife.

  It was time to weigh his odds. The man was now five feet from Magic. He’d likely take two bullets before he could sink his blade. The shooter didn’t look like he was wearing a vest but to be on the safe side, he’d go for the throat. The man’s hands shook, he was amped up full of adrenaline, obviously not well-trained, therefore, he likely wouldn’t get in a headshot.

  Yeah, Magic could work with that.

  “Let go of my leg, baby.”

  Slowly Stella did as he asked, and Magic shuffled in preparation to launch himself forward. Unfortunately, his plan was hindered when two men popped out from the side of the building.

  Lightning-quick, Magic changed his course of action and tackled Stella as a spray of bullets was unleashed.

  The sound was deafening, yet he still heard Stella’s exhale as he landed on top of her and covered every inch of her body as best he could. Long seconds ticked by and the gunshots stopped. Stella was under him, not making a sound, not moving.

  He waited longer then lifted his head to see the gunman on the ground, rifle kicked away, the now unneeded MPs running toward the scene.

  Magic rolled to the side and Stella’s eyes opened.

  “Did that just happen?” she whispered.

  “Yeah, baby, it did. Roll to your back so I can check you over.”

  “I’m not hurt. You…you…” she stammered, then smokey blue eyes turned to ice. “Don’t ever do that again, Magic.”

  He jolted at the cold tone of her voice. “Did I hurt—”

  “I’m not hurt, you big idiot. Don’t you ever step in front of a gun again. Not ever, Magic. He could’ve killed you. You would’ve…I would’ve…”

  Pandemonium ensued. MPs, medics, men, and women swarmed the area, but Magic only had eyes for his woman. He remained on the grass and pulled her into his lap. Her weight comforting, her arms around him meant he relaxed. She was scared, freaked out, and was going into shock. But she was breathing.

  “He wasn’t going to kill me,” he lied.

  Stella pulled her face out of his neck and stared at him like he was the stupidest man to ever walk the planet. He should’ve known better than to try to pull a fast one on his smart girl.

  “Okay, baby, how about this? I can’t promise you I won’t ever put myself between you and something that could harm you, because I will. I’ll do it every time, Stella. But I will promise I’ll always protect you.”

  “So basically, you’re promising me you’ll step in front of a gun.” The unhappy squi
nt made Magic smile.

  “Yeah, Stella, that’s what I’m promising.”

  “He’s dead, isn’t he? The soldier.”

  The change of topic nearly gave him whiplash, though he was grateful she wasn’t arguing with him. But bringing up the dead soldier she’d tried in vain to save wasn’t a place he wanted to go with her. Hell, it was something he wished she’d never seen. But she needed to understand there was nothing she could’ve done to save him.

  “Yeah, he’s gone. But Stella, a wound like that, there was nothing you could’ve done. You gave him the best thing you could give.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You. He wasn’t alone, he had you by his side. Right now, you might think that’s not much but give it a few days and you’ll see I’m right. He didn’t die alone in the grass, he had you at his side, and for a soldier, that means something.”

  “Magic!”

  Stella jumped at the shout and Magic cursed under his breath.

  “It’s Dash,” he told her and wrapped his arms tighter.

  His friend rocked to a halt in front of them and stared down, taking in the blood on Stella’s hand. When their eyes met, Magic gave a short jerk of his head toward the soldier who was being carefully covered with someone’s ACU blouse until his body could be taken away.

  Later. He’d process losing a fellow soldier later. Right now he needed to get his woman up and someplace that was not a crime scene.

  “Holly?” Magic inquired.

  “Unharmed. She’s in the PX.”

  Magic hadn’t needed to verbally ask—he knew Holly was safe and sound. If she wasn’t, Dash wouldn’t have been standing there, but he wanted Stella to know her friend was okay. More silent communication passed between the men. Years of serving together, being in the worst of conditions, near death, always having each other’s back meant they didn’t need words. They’d talk later, after they got their women settled.

  “I’ll bring Stella over after we talk to the MPs,” he told Dash, knowing his friend was eager to get back to his woman.