He pulled on a pair of track pants, tied the drawstring, and then headed downstairs. It was Drew’s turn to shower in the smaller bathroom and cook dinner. They’d bunked together, then lived together, for almost all of the last fifteen years.
Part of the same SEAL team since their training days, they’d often joked that they’d been brothers, separated at birth. There’d been an instant simpatico between them that had served them very well in their chosen careers.
It pained them both that their days in the field were over. In their mid-thirties, they both felt they were too old to start at the beginning, and train with four new recruits. Devon shrugged. It was what it was. The time had simply come for the next phase of their lives.
They would finish their military careers as training officers—this was their last tour—which made the time right for what else they wanted. They both wanted to settle down and raise a family.
To do that, they needed Julia. There simply would be no other woman for them.
“Anything?” he asked as he came to stand beside the man who was his best friend and, for all intents and purposes, his brother.
Drew turned from looking out the front window of the house, a window that included in its lovely view the front of Julia Benedict’s house. Situated at the rounded end of a cul-de-sac, their house was actually next door to Julia’s. The curve in the street, however, allowed them to be able to see her front door.
“Not yet, but it’s early. It’s just coming up on five. She’s not been home any earlier than six all week.”
“True.” Dev focused his gaze on the pale-pink house with brown trim, as if he could will its mistress to their door.
“Dinner’s ready,” Drew said.
“Good, I’m starving.”
The way Dev saw it, he and Drew were a pretty good deal for any woman to consider as husbands. They could cook, and clean, and do laundry, and certainly didn’t mind doing any of that.
They’d even joked once or twice, years before, about maybe finding one woman between them to marry, when their active duty days were over.
Maybe we knew how we’d end up all along.
Drew brought the large pot of hearty beef stew over to the table and set it on the hot pad between them. He’d tossed a salad, too. That was another point in their favor, Dev thought, as they both liked fresh salads and cooked greens.
“Is that homemade bread?” Dev pointed at the loaf on the table.
“It is. Mrs. Benedict brought it over while you were showering. I invited her in, but she said she was off to visit her sons and daughter-in-law in Houston. I think those would be our Julia’s parents.”
“Did you ever, in your wildest imagination, ever imagine that we’d someday meet a woman like Mrs. Kate Benedict?”
“No, and I’ve got a pretty good imagination. She said her other daughter-in-law, Bernice, made the bread just this morning.”
“Did you add that name to the chart?”
Drew smiled. “I did. By elimination, Bernice must be the wife of Caleb and Jonathan Benedict. Kate mentioned that those Benedicts had five children.” He paused for a moment, and Dev could almost see the wheels turning in Drew’s brain. “I think we may end up needing another whiteboard.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. There sure seems to be a hell of a lot of Benedicts, Kendalls, and Jessops in Lusty.”
“Don’t forget the Parkers, the Joneses, and the Parker-Joneses—although that last group, I believe, is small and there’s only one who remains in town, a maiden aunt who was the librarian for nearly thirty years.”
Dev cut himself a good-sized hunk of the fresh-as-a-dream bread, and slathered it with butter. He recalled the fancy Italian restaurant they’d taken Julia to in New York. The bread there had been fresh and warm, and they’d been served a plate of olive oil with a swirl of something red in it to dip the bread in.
Dev considered himself an ordinary man. Give him fresh salted creamery butter for his bread any day.
“So if we don’t hear from our Julia tonight”—Drew spooned himself another bowl of stew—“we move on to phase two. Those would be the businesses owned by those family members even closer to her.”
Dev nodded. “There’s the grocery, the museum, and then, of course, the restaurant.”
Drew grinned. “Do you think she’s heard about our little campaign, yet?”
Dev grinned back. “If everything I’ve ever heard about small towns is true, you’ve got to figure.” Then he shrugged. “Being this close to her, and not having her, is driving me nuts. I’m about ready to say to hell with waiting and just march over there as soon as we know she’s home, throw her over my shoulder, and bring her here, to our bed.”
“That makes two of us,” Drew said. “At the moment I’m trying to remember why we thought it would be better if she came to us first, rather than our taking the more direct approach and just going to her.”
“I hear you. Like I said, I’m just about done waiting, myself.” He and Drew shared many traits and preferences, especially the predilection that once they’d decided on a course of action, they wanted to see it done.
It didn’t take them long to finish their dinner. They worked quickly, clearing away the debris, doing the dishes. Within fifteen minutes, the kitchen had been set to rights.
“Let’s take a look at that chart we’re building,” Dev said. He headed toward the one downstairs bedroom that Kate had said the previous tenant—a high school teacher—had used as an office.
Just off the main hallway that led from the front door back to the kitchen, the small room at the moment only held a few boxes of their stuff, and the chart they’d begun to draw, trying to understand the large, multi-branched family of the woman they loved.
Dev looked at the chart and shook his head slowly. “I’m capable of reading complicated mission charts.” He shook his head as he scanned the data. “But this might just be beyond even me.”
Drew nodded. “I drew this thing, and I’m getting lost in it. One highlight, though. These two brothers”—he pointed at a couple of names—“are recently retired from the Air Force. Does one of the names look familiar to you?”
Dev leaned in and read the name. “Well, I’ll be damned. Morgan Kendall. Isn’t that the guy we pulled out of that ghost town on the edge of the desert in Southern Afghanistan a couple of years back?”
“Yep, that’s him.” Drew looked at him. “I wonder if he’s told family and friends what he really used to do over there?”
“Doubt it,” Dev said. “Just as we’ll likely never discuss the details of any of our ops. Some things are better left buried forever.”
“Amen to that, brother. Anyway, it seems he and his brother have started a new business—Kendall Aviation—out at that airfield we pass every morning.”
“Oh, yeah? Maybe we should stop by and—”
Loud pounding erupted from the vicinity of the front door, cutting off Dev’s words. The doorbell sounded, a nice, solid bell chime kind of sound. And then the pounding resumed again.
Dev met Drew’s gaze and they both smiled.
Only a few steps separated them from the front door. Through the opaque glass that flanked that door, Devon spotted a figure, not very big, and definitely female.
He pulled open the door quickly, and had to bite back his laughter when Julia, looking flustered and beautiful, nearly fell into his arms when she went to pound on the door again.
“You! And you!” She pointed at them each in turn. “I have a bone to pick with you both!”
“That’s not your line.” Dev kept his tone reasonable, and offered her a small smile. “Your line is ‘honeys, I’m home.’”
“Honeys, I’m home?” Julia repeated the words, her brow furrowed.
“Yes, and it’s about time!” Dev reached forward, picked her up, and pulled her into the house and flush against his chest. “Welcome home, baby.”
Julia opened her mouth but Devon gave her no chance to protest. Instead, he did wh
at he’d been dreaming of doing for the last six months.
He laid his lips on hers and plundered.
Chapter 2
Miguel Ramos was finished trying to behave like a civilized man.
Since he’d lifted himself out of the poverty that had held him to the streets, he’d pursued his business with an ambitious zeal few had been able to rival. But he had also always adhered to a very strict moral code. There had always been lines he would not cross, crimes he would not commit.
No more.
They had taken his estate in El Paso and seized his bank accounts north of the border. They had decimated his Texas organization. They had even made it impossible for him to enter the United States.
Por Dios, it was enough! The time had come to reach out and strike at the very heart of those who had dared to move so mercilessly against him.
Ramos took a moment to inhale the fresh ocean breeze. Here in his hacienda outside of Culiacán, he was still surrounded by the rewards of his enterprise, by the luxury that money could buy. Here, in the heart of his empire, he stood invincible. All around him accorded him every respect a man who owned the lives of others deserved. Here, everyone called him Don Miguel, and very few had the courage to even meet his gaze.
Despite the blows he had endured, Miguel Ramos was still a man of power, a man who could reach far, and a man to be feared.
He was very much a man to be feared, and this his enemies would soon know beyond doubt.
“Excuse me, Don Miguel.”
Miguel turned from the ocean vista at the interruption. He forced his frown away and gave the man before him a nod.
“Juan. Welcome.”
“Thank you, sir. Tomas said I could just come back.”
“Yes. Come, have a seat. Enjoy the view. I have asked Tomas to bring us some café con leche. You will join me?”
“I…yes, thank you, sir. I will.”
“It is I who should be thanking you. If not for your timely warning a few weeks ago, I would have been arrested by the American federales.”
“You are my Patrón. What else would I do but serve you?”
Ramos held up his hand, pleased when Pecos immediately fell silent. Moments later, Tomas wheeled the serving cart out onto the patio. He poured the thick, rich coffee that Ramos particularly loved into the cups, then added the hot milk.
“Thank you, Tomas. Leave us now.”
“Sí, Patrón.”
Ramos waited until the elderly servant was well outside of hearing. Then he turned his attention to Juan Pecos.
Pecos had been his employee for the last twelve years. In that time, the man had shown himself to be competent, but not outstanding. He didn’t possess enough of a strategic mind to be moved into what Ramos would consider a management position. But Juan Pecos did possess one quality that made him the perfect tool for wreaking his revenge on that bastard Alvarez.
Juan Pecos was loyal, almost slavishly so. Some men, Ramos knew, had been created to serve others. Pecos was just such a man.
“You have proven yourself to me, Juan Pecos, and so, I have decided to give you a reward.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to Pecos, who took it as if he expected the thing to bite him.
“You pay me well already, Don Miguel. I am grateful. I do not need a reward.”
“You do. For yourself, of course, but also to set an example of what good, loyal employees may expect to receive from Don Miguel Ramos. Go on, look inside.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Ramos watched Juan open the envelope, watched as his eyes widened, and then held back a smile when the man thumbed through the American one hundred dollar bills, counting them quickly.
“Thank you, Don Miguel! You are very generous.”
“You are welcome. I wonder, if you would be interested in earning another envelope with twice that amount of money in it?”
“I am at your service, sir.”
This would be more than business, this would be personal. Alvarez had made it personal when he’d come after him. It did not matter to Miguel Ramos that the man had not been a part of the operation that had stormed into his El Paso home just minutes after he’d escaped. All of his problems had begun the day that American federal agent had stolen his diamonds.
“You stood as an observer for me in Dallas, when Alvarez and his compadres hit our base last month.”
“Yes, sir. Then I came here, and verified the information that the gringo driver had given you.”
“And you saw Special Agent Alvarez with your own eyes. You would…recognize him?”
“Yes. Yes, I would recognize him anywhere.”
“My understanding is that he is assigned to the Dallas office of the American Drug Enforcement Administration. This is your understanding as well?”
“It is.”
“I also know that he lives in a small town well outside of the city. That he has recently become engaged to be married.”
“Yes. I also know this. One of the young Príncipes was boasting that he was staying in the same town as the cop, and that he was going to kill him for you.”
Ramos felt his temper rise. So that little bastard Manuel Ramirez had boasted of his deed before the fact? Had he known that, Ramos would have dealt with the man severely and found another to kill the cop. Instead of carrying out his assignment, Ramirez had failed him, and had been shot by the very man he was supposed to kill.
“Special Agent Alvarez has cost me a great deal of money and inconvenience, Juan.”
“Yes, sir. Do you want me to kill Alvarez for you?”
“No. No, I have something else entirely in mind to get my revenge on Alvarez. I do not want you to kill him. I want you to find him, and I want you to follow him, and I want you to watch him.” Ramos turned and met Pecos’s gaze.
“And then I want you to steal his woman and bring her to me.”
* * * *
Julia fully intended to push away from the big, brutish man holding her in his arms and ravishing her mouth with his. For about a half a second. Then she gave up all pretense of protest and sank into Devon Wakefield’s kiss.
Oh, God, how could she have forgotten the taste, the almost overwhelming addictiveness of this man’s kiss? Julia wrapped her arms around Dev, and even the imprint of his hard body against hers felt achingly familiar.
How could I be so hungry for them after just one time?
She felt the sweep of a hand down her back, and the heat of a male body standing so very close behind her.
She whimpered. Her need to taste Drew James exploded, fierce and immediate.
Somehow, Dev understood her feral communication. He eased his lips from hers, and kissed her cheek.
“He’s right here, baby doll. Shh, we’re going to take such good care of you.”
It was ridiculous how easily Dev handed her over to Drew. Her heart raced and arousal burned in her, hardening her nipples and making her pussy clench, as if it was already searching for cock.
“There you are at last. Give me that sexy mouth, kitten.” She might have forgotten their silly pet names for her, but she had forgotten nothing about the flavor or the heat of them. Every female hormone inside her began to sing the Hallelujah Chorus. Unable to resist her body’s craving, she wrapped her legs around Drew.
Or rather, she tried to. She’d forgotten she had a skirt on, one of those snug pencil skirts that looked so good on her.
Dev’s hands made quick work of the button and zipper at the back of her skirt, and in seconds the garment was pulled off her. Then Dev’s strong male hands urged her legs around Drew’s waist.
“Lord, honey, you look hot and you feel so hot.” Dev’s voice reverberated in her belly. He trailed his hand along her bottom, then reached up to brush back and forth over her panty-covered slit. Those actions fuelled her arousal but also ironically pulled her mentally out of her erotic haze. Her body screamed in protest, yet her mind, and her will, prevailed.
Julia broke D
rew’s kiss. “No. No, wait. I…I can’t. I don’t want—”
“You can, and you do want. Your pussy is wet, baby.” Dev’s voice took on an edge of machismo.
Julia cursed her horny body that found that tone of his arousing as hell. She also bit back on the urge to say “to hell with it” and shed the rest of her clothes. She used every scrap of will at her command to bear down on her arousal and hold it in check.
Let go, Jules, you know what you really want to do is bare down.
Julia consigned her inner imp to hell.
“Your nipples are hard, too. I can feel them drilling holes in my chest.” Drew spread kisses on her cheek, his words whispered against her flesh.
Julia leaned back just enough so she could look into Drew’s eyes. Since Dev stood so close, running his hand back and forth across her bottom, it proved a simple matter to turn her head and meet his gaze, too.
“You know you have my body ready to do whatever you want. My head’s not there yet. Please, give me some space here.”
“Damn. We were so close.” To punctuate his statement, Drew pushed his hips forward. The bulge in his pants fit damn near perfectly against her feminine folds. Julia felt the lips of her pussy thicken and spread, getting ready for his cock.
“Not fair.” She could feel the pout on her face and knew from experience it was a good one.
“Do you really want to talk about ‘not fair’, baby doll?” Dev asked.
Julia closed her eyes and sighed. “Do I want to? No. My head wants me to walk out that door and never look back. My body wants me to get naked and get between the two of you and fuck you both until none of us can see straight.”
“What about your heart, Julia?” Drew’s question puffed against her face, and she realized he still held her in his arms. Not only that, her legs were still clamped around his waist.
“My heart doesn’t know what the hell it wants.” She could tell them nothing more than the truth. Her body protested when she unwound her legs from Drew’s waist. Just as regretfully, it seemed to her, he set her on the floor.
Covington, Cara - Love Under Two Navy SEALs [The Lusty, Texas Collection] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2