Van, Becca - Her Ex-Marines [Slick Rock 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)
Page 4
“My brothers and I were raised to treat women like ladies,” Damon stated, removing his hand from hers. Rachel looked into his eyes again and saw him watching her to see what she would do. She could see the mischievous gleam in his eyes as he watched her pull her hand from the doorknob then glare up at him, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. He didn’t say anything to her, just stood there waiting. He gave a chuckle when she sighed and finally moved away from the door, giving him room to hold it open for her. She yelped when he gave her a tap on the ass as she sashayed past him, her spine ramrod straight and her eyes feeling as if they were spitting fire. She squeaked with indignation and surprise, spinning around to face him. She met his eyes and raised one eyebrow questioningly, then waited to see what he would do, if anything. She opened her mouth to speak then closed it again, frowning at him, spun on her heels, and stomped off to her desk.
She couldn’t really berate him for what he had done. She was trying to hide her arousal from him with her indignation. She didn’t want him to know she was drawn to him and his brothers. She loved the fact he was being familiar with her. She was so attracted to him and his brothers. The more he, Tyson, and Sam touched her, the more she wanted their touch. What she couldn’t seem to get her head around was the fact she wanted all three of the men.
Rachel worked diligently through the morning, trying to catch up on the backlog of paperwork left undone after the previous secretary had left. It took her a couple of hours to sort out the paperwork into piles, marking them from top priority right down to the round file holder most people would call the shredder and recycle bin. By the time she had the urgent work over and done with, her shoulders and back were aching from being stuck in front of her computer monitor. She looked up at the clock to see it was going on two o’clock in the afternoon. She was surprised she hadn’t seen anything of Damon or Luke.
Rachel stood up, stretching her arms above her head and giving a groan as her vertebrae popped satisfactorily, then lowered her hands. She grabbed her purse, intending to take a walk and get a sandwich. She had her hand on the doorknob when Damon’s deep voice called out to her.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going to lunch. I presume I get to take a lunch break, don’t I, Sheriff?” Rachel replied facetiously.
“Don’t get sassy with me, baby. Of course you get a lunch break. I would have thought you’d have had it by now,” he said, walking toward her.
“I was so busy trying to clean up all that paperwork, I didn’t notice the time.”
“I’ll bet you didn’t even take a coffee break, did you?”
“No. Once I have everything in order, I will take regular breaks because I won’t have so much to do. But I couldn’t leave that mess on my desk any longer. I can hardly see the timber beneath for the piles of paper.”
“Luke isn’t a slave driver, Rachel, and neither am I. From now on, take your breaks regularly. It’s not doing you any good to sit around without moving for hours on end. Where are you going for lunch?”
“I don’t know yet. I thought I’d wander up and down the street until I found somewhere.”
“Well, since I was heading out for lunch, as well, why don’t we go together? The only decent place to eat is the diner or Tyson’s hotel. Since we’re going to the hotel for dinner, why don’t we head over to the diner?”
“Okay.” Rachel reached for the door knob, hesitated, and then pulled her hand back.
“Good girl, you remembered,” Damon said with a grin, which earned him a grunt from Rachel as she passed through the doorway as he held the door.
* * * *
The diner was still quite crowded, considering the time of day. Rachel hesitated inside the door as eyes peered at her curiously. Damon wrapped an arm around her waist and led her to an empty booth. A waitress appeared almost instantly to take their order. The young woman had eyes only for Damon and could hardly pull them away from him as he introduced the two women.
“Hey, Damon, what will you have?”
“Hey, yourself, Leah. I’ll have the special. This is Rachel Lamb. She’s our new secretary and my housemate. Rachel, Leah Harmer,” Damon introduced.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Leah. I’ll just have a ham-and-cheese sandwich, please.”
“Sure. Would you like anything to drink?” Leah asked.
“Water is fine, thanks.”
“Coffee, Sheriff?”
“As if you need to ask, darlin’.” Damon gave the young woman a grin and a wink. Rachel saw how Leah’s face heated with embarrassment and her eyes with desire as she looked at him.
Rachel watched as Leah’s smile spread, lighting up her eyes and face as she turned away. “You’ve made a conquest there, Sheriff.”
“Nah, she’s just got a little crush. She’ll get over it when the right man comes along.” Damon shifted in his chair, obviously uncomfortable discussing himself.
“How long have you lived in Slick Rock?” asked Rachel.
“It’s been a few months now.”
“Where did you live before?”
“Nowhere, everywhere. Tyson, Sam, and I got out of the Marines a little over six months ago. We decided we’d had enough traveling and taking orders from other people. We wanted to settle and put roots down. We started thinking about finding a woman for us, having a family, and we couldn’t do that being Marines. Not if we wanted to have a good family life. We didn’t want to have to up and leave our family for months on end, not being able to contact them if the situation prevented it. So we all discussed retiring once our time was up and setting ourselves up in a different life, and as the saying goes, the rest is history.”
Rachel was blown away that he had just said he and his brother were looking for a woman to share. Her pussy clenched at the thought of being that woman, and her heart rate sped up. She could just imagine in her mind what it would feel like to have three men loving her, their hands and mouths caressing her body. Her nipples elongated and her panties became damp. She quickly pushed those thoughts aside. She didn’t know what to say, so she ignored that part of Damon’s conversation.
“You were all Marines?”
“Yeah, baby, but we’d had enough. Where did you live before you came here?” Damon asked. Almost instantly, he reached over the table and took her hand in his. “You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. I’m sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
Rachel eyed Damon, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. She studied him for a moment, and then comprehension dawned. The knowledge was there for her to see in his eyes and the way he withdrew his question without expecting an answer. He knew. He must have done a check on her. Oh God, she had to get out of here. If he’d checked her out, then she would bet her last dollar they were on their way or already here, looking for her. Her breathing escalated, perspiration broke out over her skin, and her heart pounded inside of her chest. She lowered her eyes, removed her hand from his, rose to her feet, and headed to the restrooms.
Rachel leaned against the sink, breathing deeply, trying to get her panic under control. She met her own eyes in the mirror. Her pupils were dilated, and her eyes were haunted. She turned on the faucet, splashed cold water over her face and wrists, then patted herself dry with a paper towel. She stood there in that lonely bathroom staring at the stranger before her. She could see how frightened she looked and knew without a doubt she had to leave. The door to the ladies’ room opened, and she turned, bright fluorescent lights gleaming in her eyes, only allowing her to see the tall silhouette of the man standing in the doorway. Rachel stepped back until her back was pressed against the wall, and a shaky hand rose to her mouth to stop her from crying out in fear. Her legs nearly buckled as the man stepped forward beneath the light. His familiar features releasing her from her paralysis, her legs no longer able to hold her up, Rachel slid down the wall to the floor. She cried out as Damon’s strong arms caught her before her ass hit the floor. She wanted to rage at him for scaring th
Damon wrapped his arms around her and hauled her up against his big, warm body. Rachel knew he could feel her shaking and wanted to push away from him, to castigate him for frightening her so badly, but she was going to have to wait until her strength returned. She became aware of him running a large hand up and down her back, soothing her and offering comfort as he made nonsensical crooning sounds.
Rachel’s fear finally began to abate, and her strength began to return, as did her fury. She stiffened in his arms, drew away from him, and stood up. She took a step back and stared him down.
“How dare you. You have no idea what you’ve done. I can’t believe you investigated me. Oh my God. I have to leave. Please, take me home so I can pack,” Rachel demanded in a fierce whisper.
“Rachel, you can’t run for the rest of your life. What sort of life are you going to have, running from town to town, state to state? You can never settle down, get married, and have kids. What about your mom? Are you going to be able to send her on cruises with a bodyguard for the rest of her life? That’s called existing, baby, not living.”
“At least I’ll be alive and so will my mother.” Rachel felt tears pool in her eyes then spill down over her cheeks.
Damon rose from his crouch and stepped forward again, grasped her hands, and pulled her into his body, holding her tight against him. “We can protect you, baby. Luke already has word out and about for friends to be on the lookout for any strangers coming into town. My brothers and I are trained Marines. Luke is a sheriff, and his friends, Tom and Billy Eagle, are just as tough if not tougher than he is. You won’t be safer than you are here, living and working with ex-Marines and the law. Now, come and eat. We’ll discuss everything tonight. I promise everything will work out in the end, baby. Trust me.”
Chapter Five
Rachel felt like a specimen under a microscope as she sat in the far corner of the booth in the Slick Rock hotel. Sam was on one side and Damon on the other. Luke was having a conversation with Sam, while Damon greeted Tom and Billy Eagle. Rachel sat watching Tyson as he organized his staff. She knew he wanted to get away to have dinner with his brothers and friends because he kept glancing over toward them. Rachel was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. She was sipping at her Black Russian—Kahlua, vodka, and cola—and knew she should have stuck to good old plain water. After such a frightening and emotionally draining day, the alcohol was going straight to her head. She was barely aware of what was going on around her, and that was dangerous. She would listen to what Damon and the others had to say, but she was still going to have to pack up and leave. The last thing she wanted was for innocent people to get hurt because of her. No. She needed to leave before that could happen. She would never be able to live with her conscience.
Rachel excused herself and headed for the ladies’ room. She was thankful she’d only had half of her drink. She studied herself in the mirror over the sink, taking in the dark smudges beneath her eyes and her half-closed eyelids. Pretty as a picture, Rachel berated herself. She shrugged her shoulders. What did she care what she looked like? It was not like she was going to be around much longer anyway.
Rachel’s sight blurred. The events of that terrifying afternoon were forever embedded in her mind, only to pop up at the most inconvenient times. The first sob was ripped from deep within her chest, bubbling up her throat and out her mouth. She stumbled into a cubicle, closed and locked the door, and practically fell down onto the closed toilet lid. She buried her face in her hands, trying to contain the furor of emotions determined to spew their way up and out. She covered her face in her hands and let go for the first time in six long months. Once the damn walls came tumbling down, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t build them up again. She sobbed so hard she could have sworn her ribs moved beneath her skin. She tried to keep her noise to a minimum, but in the end, what did it matter if anyone heard her? They were probably all too busy having a good time to worry about a neurotic, weeping woman. She had no idea how long she sat there sobbing, but it was long enough to make her feel ill. Lucky for her, she was in the right place.
* * * *
“Hi, Damon. Where’s Rachel?” Felicity asked.
“She went to the restrooms. Do you mind checking up on her for me, Felicity? She’s been gone for a long time.”
“Sure, be right back.”
Damon watched and waited for Felicity to come out of the ladies’ bathroom. He didn’t like the fear and panic he saw in her eyes when she finally returned to the table. As soon as he saw her worried expression, he was on his feet heading to the ladies’ restroom. Felicity turned and walked with him as she spoke to him.
“She’s sick, Damon. I heard her crying and then the sound of her being sick. She wouldn’t answer me when I asked if she was all right.”
“Thanks, Felicity.” Damon pushed open the bathroom door, the sound of Felicity’s heels clacking behind him.
“Rachel, unlock the door,” Damon commanded gently through the closed door, then stood listening for movement from the other side.
“Goddamn it, Rachel, open the fucking door.” Damon yelled this time.
“Felicity, go and get Tyson, Sam, and Luke. I’m going to have to break the door down, and I want one of them on hand in case I need some help with her.”
“Wait,” Felicity commanded, holding up the palm of her hand. Damon watched as she squatted down, got on her hands and knees, and then put her forehead close to the floor to look under the cubicle door. “I can slide in under the door and unlock it. You won’t have to break it down. You need to call for a doctor. She’s passed out on the floor.”
“Fuck,” Damon spat as he watched Felicity shimmy and slide her way under the cubicle door. He heard rustling as she maneuvered around, then the sound of the lock being disengaged.
The doors to the ladies’ restroom slammed against the opposite wall as Luke, Tom, Billy, Sam, and Tyson tried to push their way in just as Felicity opened the cubicle door to reveal Rachel slumped half on the floor and half over the commode.
“Luke, call the paramedics or the doc,” Felicity commanded as she tried to pull Rachel into her arms, and Damon saw the tears of distress running down her cheeks.
Luke walked up to Felicity and lifted her into his arms, then backed away from the cubicle doorway to give Damon room to get to Rachel.
Damon squatted down to his haunches and checked Rachel’s pulse and breathing. The sight of her tearstained cheeks and swollen eyes sent a shard of pain piercing his heart. He scooped Rachel up into his arms then followed Tyson to the private back room. Thankfully there was still a sofa up against the wall, where he deposited his precious bundle. He glanced over his shoulder to see Tyson and Sam staring at Rachel, worried expressions on their faces.
Damon saw Felicity come rushing into the room with a new, clean dishrag, damp with warm water. He was appreciative when she knelt down next to Rachel and began to wipe over Rachel’s face and mouth. The sight of Rachel’s parchment-white skin, perspiration dotting her brow, made his gut churn and knot with concern.
“Well, now. What seems to be the problem?” Doc Foster asked as he entered the room. “I would like to be left alone with my patient once I know what’s going on. So who is going to enlighten me?”
“I went into the ladies’ room to hear Rachel crying. Not just usual crying, though, Doc. The gut-wrenching sounds she was making nearly had me crying with her. Then Rachel started being sick, and I rushed out of the ladies’ room to get Damon. She was passed out when Damon and I got back,” Felicity said, taking a deep, hitching breath when she’d finished.
“Don’t you worry none, little lady,” Doc said, patting Felicity’s hand as he took Rachel’s pulse. “You know I’ll look after her. Now, leave me so I can examine my patient.”
“I’m staying, Doc,” Damon stated from his position near the foot of the sofa.
“So am I,” Tyson ground out.
“Me, too,” Sam avowed firmly.
Damon saw Doc take one look at him and his brothers and knew the stubborn look on his face was enough of an indication that he wouldn’t be leaving the room. Doc turned his back on him and began to examine Rachel.
Rachel groaned and opened her eyes just as Doc finished examining her. Doc patted her hand as she opened her eyes. “Well, now. I’m glad to see you back with us, little lady. I’m Doc Foster, but most everyone just calls me Doc. How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” Rachel replied with a sigh.
“Yes, well, burning the candle at both ends will do that to you. When was the last time you slept a night through?”
“About six months,” Rachel answered, shrugging her shoulders.
“And when was the last time you had a decent meal?”
“Last night and this morning,” Rachel answered without hesitation.
“Glad to hear it. You need to eat more, as well as more regularly, and you need more sleep and rest. You are on the edge of utter exhaustion, young lady. If you don’t start taking it easy, I’m going to put you into the hospital. I want you to take two weeks off with no stress. Why don’t you take a vacation?”
Rachel glanced from the doc, over to Damon, and back to the doc. “I may just be taking one long, permanent vacation very soon,” Rachel said with a laugh.
The sound of Rachel laughing so hard and then the laughter turning to tears had Damon’s gut clenching with anguish. He wanted to find those bastards after her and wipe them from the face of the Earth. Damon noticed movement from the corner of his eye, and he watched Tyson rush forward and scoop Rachel up into his arms then sit back down on the sofa with her in his lap. He pulled her into his chest and held her as she cried quietly into his body. Damon looked at Tyson and Sam and knew his face mirrored the anguish on theirs. Finally, Rachel’s shoulders stopped shaking and her body slumped against Tyson’s chest as she fell asleep.
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