Beau worked his throat muscles extra hard just to swallow before he said, “We’ll be ready.”
With one curt nod, Alex left the way he came, in a huff, but Maverick stayed. “You saved her life,” he said, his tone flat. “I hope you understand the kind of bravery it took to walk into her house after what you lived through at Montego’s hands. God, you should’ve been home in bed. You’d just left the hospital.”
“Yeah. So?”
“So if we’ve got time over the next few days, I’ll tell you about the time I saved China. Boots, man. Don’t forget your gear.” And he was gone.
Beau stared at the door, wondering what the hell just happened. Maverick was a hard man to read, one minute friendly enough, the next ruder than shit and all-out hostile. Not that Beau cared to understand the guy. Mostly he stayed clear of everyone he worked with unless absolutely necessary. Lesson’s learned the hard way and all that bullshit.
It took sixty seconds to be steady on his feet. He set his gear and his leather jacket on the other bed. But he stalled out when he leaned over McKenna. Damn, she was a beautiful woman, lying there asleep like she was. Her facial features were relaxed now, her chest heaving with deep, slow breaths. She looked innocent. Peaceful. He didn’t want to disturb her.
Kelsey and Libby had changed her into a soft cotton gown. A tiny satin ribbon nestled between the swell of her breasts, breasts he hadn’t been moved by until now. But Beau could stand watch over her forever, and this stolen moment would be the only reward he’d need. To breathe in sync with her. To take up the same space if only for a few more minutes. Just knowing she was finally safe. Talk about unrequited love. Gah, he was made for that job, too. There would never come a day when he deserved a woman like her. There was no sense dreaming it could ever be. But for now, he just stood there and counted himself the luckiest man alive.
Beau didn’t need help getting McKenna ready to travel. This privilege belonged to him and him alone. For once, his left hand didn’t ache as he gently lifted her into his arms. Whatever Libby had deadened it with had worked miracles. But honestly, even if he were to lose his finger or his hand because he’d rescued McKenna? It’d be a small price to pay.
Beau had her wrapped like a baby before the women returned.
“It looks like you don’t need our help,” Kelsey murmured as she cleared the doorway with Libby behind her.
“Of course not. Haven’t you heard? Beau’s fast,” Libby teased, winking.
“And smooth,” Kelsey said, waggling her brows.
“Just doing whatever it takes to keep Dr. Fitzgerald safe,” he told them sincerely.
Libby hip-checked Kelsey. “So now she’s Doctor Fitzgerald. Wasn’t she McKenna just a few minutes ago?”
“Ah-huh, I see how it is.” Kelsey grinned, her warm gaze drifting over Beau standing there with the lady in question in his arms. “She looks plenty safe to me.”
Women. If he lived to be one hundred, he’d never understand them. Why were they teasing him? What’d these two want? Him to admit he cared more than he should for their lady friend? Not happening. The less a guy said, the less people could say behind his back.
He’d just been in the right place at the right time tonight. That was all. McKenna would never be safer than right now, but he knew his place. This moment with her was just a temporary reprieve. She belonged to the stars, and he was Army cannon fodder, a grunt with a Ranger tab on his shirt that hadn’t helped him sleep any better at night.
“There,” Kelsey whispered as she added another light blanket over McKenna, while Libby waited at the open door. “I’ll follow along with your gear and your holster. Alex won’t allow us to visit you kids until this is over, Beau, so Gabe and Shelby will stay at Maverick and China’s with you. Shelby’s a nurse. She’ll know what to do. Take good care of McKenna. I’m counting on you.”
Beau nodded, her humble servant to the end. For whatever reason, Harley and Kelsey were the two who’d inspired him to stay with The TEAM. Harley for the job offer, Kelsey for the unconditional light in her eyes. Not Alex.
“I will ma’am. Trust me.”
“I do trust you, Beau. I trust you more than you know. Do what’s best for McKenna. Now let’s hurry. Alex is waiting.”
Before long, Beau stood in Maverick’s massive garage with Alex and McKenna. It took a minute to lift up and out of the back seat of Carson’s Yukon with her in his arms, but he managed. By then, the long day and night had caught up with him. He needed to sit. Lay down. Anything. Just to stop moving would be good enough.
China met them at the garage door that led through a spacious mudroom/laundry room combination into a lighted hallway. “Second door on your right,” she whispered as she held the hallway door open for him. “Hi, Cowboy. I waited up for you.”
“I see that,” Maverick said gruffly as he pressed a kiss to her mouth, then asked, “Kyrie too?”
“No, I sent her to bed hours ago. Gabe called. Said he should be here first thing in the morning but to let him know if we need anything sooner.”
Beau only half-listened to the intimate husband and wife exchange as he angled McKenna through the door, down the hall, and into the extra-large bedroom with the light on and the door open. The affection between Maverick and China surprised him. How could she stand to live with the moody ass? Guess opposites really did attract. Like the Stewarts. Kelsey was a saint to put up with Alex.
A small lamp glowed on the nightstand between the two queen-sized beds. Once China joined him, she drifted the brown and green-checkered bedcovers back, and Beau set his precious cargo on the clean sheets. Together they unwrapped McKenna. Once she was out of those extra blankets, Beau tucked the bedcovers around his sleeping beauty once more.
The second his thumb bumped her chin, a certain calm crept over him at the intimate duty he’d so carefully performed. A soldier was never more faithful than when standing guard over someone he cared for, and for sure, there was no fiercer warrior in the universe than a man protecting his woman and his home. But why those emotions surged through Beau’s body like a heated tsunami, he had no idea. He meant nothing to McKenna. Never would. Never could.
He was first and foremost—just and only—that hard man alone in the darkest night, holding the thin line against his homeland’s enemies, destroyers, and invaders. That was all. He was a Viking. One of King Leonidas’ suicidal Spartans. A man created to be forever alone and forever on guard.
Like so many soldiers before him, he was and would never be more special than that. War was what he’d been made for, and what he did best. He killed America’s enemies, and sometimes, he made them suffer for the innocent lives they’d taken before he let them die. They never died courageously. He wasn’t made that way.
Beau wasn’t proud of what he did as an expertly trained sniper and a cunning survivor, but neither was he ashamed. Someone had to protect the sheep of the world, the lambs, and the innocents like McKenna. The pundits, talking heads, and know-it-alls in the world sure as hell couldn’t, not as much as they fought a decent, law-abiding man’s right to bear arms. No. Only hard men like him would stand against the Montegos of the world.
He’d long ago accepted his place in society. Not even on his best day would he be worthy of a woman as smart, as classy, and as uniquely feminine as McKenna. She saved people. He managed that supreme act of courage once in a rare while if he were lucky. Like he had been tonight. Mostly, he just killed who he was told to and moved on. That was his vocation in life. It might not be pretty, but it was a job worth doing. Like cleaning rats out of sewers and picking up trash, it kept the world safe and clean.
With a gentle swipe over McKenna’s swollen bottom lip, he knew it to his soul. She was the one who belonged inside the protection of The TEAM. Not him. People liked her, and why shouldn’t they? She was sunshine, light, and saving grace. He was the unrepentant and the unforgiven sinner in the dark. And there he would forever stay.
Beau sh
ook his head at the pensive thoughts bubbling to the surface inside his hard head tonight. Had to be the drugs.
“You look like you’ve had a tough day,” China whispered, her head inclined toward his, the dim bedroom light sparkling in her eyes. “Maverick’s bringing your gear inside. Can I get you something to drink before I leave you two alone? A beer? Water? Anything?”
Alex and Maverick hadn’t offered to help care for McKenna. That, at least, was a relief. But China was the complete opposite of Kelsey. Not that she was cruel. Just—different. More... Hell, I don’t know.
Beau cleared his throat, not accepting any more than the basics from his cantankerous teammate’s wife. “Water’ll be fine. Thank you, ma’am.”
“If Gabe and Shelby get in early, I’ll ask them to hold off checking McKenna until morning. I imagine you’re exhausted. Go ahead and sleep late if you can. You look like you’re ready to collapse. Do you need any aspirin before I go?”
It was funny she’d said Shelby would check McKenna. Like his wounds were invisible? Like he didn’t deserve Gabe’s wife’s attention or care? But why should that surprise him? Truth was, it didn’t.
“I’ll be fine. Libby fixed me up with a few painkillers.” Leave me the fuck alone already.
“I’m glad you told me. I’ll be right back.” China nodded toward the ensuite head. “I left a new set of pajamas on the counter for you. Use whatever toiletries you can find. I try to keep this room stocked for company. We never know who’s going to show.”
Beau wasn’t about to sit while a lady was present, but the room spun, and he went down on the edge of the bed with a graceless thump.
China flew to his side. “Damn it, you’re not well. What can I do? What do you need? Tell me.”
He was sweating by then, but he wasn’t about to accept more than absolutely necessary from anyone related to Maverick. “Nothing, ma’am. Just need to sleep. I’ll be fine in the morning.” Then I’ll be gone.
“Sorry, it just frightened me when you fell. If you’re sure you’re okay, I’ll get out of your hair.”
“I’m sure.” He didn’t want to be rude, but it’d sure be nice if she’d go.
The minute China closed the door behind her, he stumbled into the head, partially closed the door in case McKenna stirred or cried out, and he undressed. The pajamas China had left were flannel. But the package of boxers was something else. One hundred percent cotton. One pair was all he needed, and he meant to send Maverick a check to cover his expenses.
After a quick shower, during which Beau managed to keep his left hand mostly dry, he brushed his teeth, and called the day good enough for government work.
A surprise met him as he re-entered the bedroom, still running a towel over his head, so he didn’t get the pillow wet. His gear bag and holster were hung over a couple of sturdy hooks on the wall behind the door. Some nice person had also left a tray of cheese, crackers, sliced smoked sausage, and a condiment cup of hot mustard on the nightstand. Along with four bottled waters. That was thoughtful of China.
Mental note to self: Don’t forget to thank her come morning. But mail a check to pay for this stuff first chance I get. Don’t need Maverick holding anything over my head. Not ever.
Sitting at the edge of the bed opposite McKenna, he cradled his injured limb in his lap while he ate what his stomach could handle, then took the last dose of the painkiller Libby had given him. Like Kelsey, he trusted her.
Beau turned off the lamp on the nightstand between the beds. Enough ambient light from the halogen yard lights between Maverick’s big house and his ostentations barn filtered through the window blinds. But when it came time to throw back the blankets and climb into the other bed? Beau couldn’t do it. He might sleep too soundly. What if McKenna needed him during the night? What if she had a nightmare? What if Montego came back and broke in? That worried him most. She might already know he and McKenna had hid out at Stewart’s. She might not wait until morning to attack.
So, slowly...
Carefully...
Silently…
Beau lifted McKenna’s blanket, settled his weight onto her bed without disturbing her, and slid his much bigger body alongside hers. Only for this one night. He just needed to be sure.
His body spiked, instantly hard with a need he’d denied for years. Maybe forever. But not for sex. Not that an intimate moment with McKenna wouldn’t have been heaven. But because Beau was the kind of man who needed more than a quick ‘slam, bam, thank-you, ma’am.’ Whatever that elusive more was, he’d been looking for it all his life. Just hadn’t found it yet, and he didn’t intend to settle for less.
A sigh escaped as he eased his good arm around McKenna’s shoulder and pulled her against him. Lifting his wounded hand over his head, he rested it on his pillow. This, right here. Just lying next to McKenna. This was reward enough.
Closing his eyes, he imagined a world where little boys all had loving mothers and fathers and enough food to come home to. Where they didn’t scurry like cockroaches in dark underground tunnels to avoid the bigger, meaner castoffs of society. Where someone like McKenna waited at the end of the day. To ask them what they did during the day. Were they happy? Tired? Had they played hard? Did they get hurt? Were they good boys?
He could see her tucking a tow-headed little guy into bed at night. Reading him his favorite bedtime story. Kissing him goodnight. Stupid, impossible stuff like that. All those seemingly trivial things most kids in America took for granted. Because they could. Because men like him made sure they could.
Old memories and ugly taunts always roared back during peaceful moments like this. Worthless punk. Cocksucker. Dead weight. And those were the kinder ones. Not since he’d fled the rundown house he’d called home had Beau ever looked back. There was no need to. He might have left that shithole far behind, but the ghosts of it hadn’t left him.
Already a mature seven-and-a-half when it happened, he’d grown up fast and wary, staying low to avoid cops and other do-gooders. Dumpster diving to quell the stomach cramps. All the littler kids did it—once. But when that innocent need to survive came up against the brutal reinforcement of whichever gang owned that part of the hood and the Dumpsters in it, he’d resorted to begging. Stealing. Back then, he would’ve lied to his own mother if it meant a full stomach. Not that she’d come looking for him once he’d run. That was another nightmare altogether.
People talked about Vegas like it was a world-class destination, full of glamorous vices, and allowable sin. And it was—for movie stars and celebrities, whales and sharks. But for the homeless and throwaways, the runaways and kids on the street, Vegas was a damned brutal place to wake up to every morning. Hot as hell in the summer, prone to flash floods in the tunnels, and below zero temps when you least expected them in winter. Yeah, no. Vegas wasn’t home. It was just another speck of dirt in the shit storm called life. Suck it up and keep on moving.
For once his bad hand didn’t throb. The pain pills were working, and he wanted to spend his last waking seconds looking at McKenna. He eased the tip of the index finger of his good hand along the curve of her jaw, ending at her chin.
Beau almost laughed out loud. Good hand. Bad hand. He had no good hand, not considering the things he’d done with them.
“Sleep tight,” he whispered as he ended the one illicit contact with McKenna he’d ever allow. She was safe, and that was all that mattered. For him, this was only a one-night reprieve. Tomorrow, he had a bitch to hunt. When the sun came up, and McKenna opened her pretty eyes to her brand-new day, he’d already be gone. It was a good plan, one he meant to implement after a couple hours rest.
Until McKenna mumbled in her sleep.
Until she whimpered.
Until she turned and pressed her face into his neck, burrowing her shoulder under his arm. Her head settled under his chin. Against his pounding heart. Jesus, she was a soft, warm armful. A man could live like this forever.
Beau bowed his nose
into the silky tendrils of her lush hair, unable to think straight and nearly unable to breathe. He’d learned one prayer in his life, that from a multidenominational Army chaplain who handed out comfort on hard days like this one.
Beau didn’t often pray. He had no idea what waited for him at the end of his life, and he wasn’t sure he cared to find out. All he’d been destined for was grief and pain. It seemed a useless wish to hope for anything better. So he didn’t.
But there was one story the Army chaplain told that Beau related to. One sermon that spoke to him while the others about kindness and charity, about looking out for your brother because all men were your brothers—yeah, right—did not. It was the one about that guy who’d been scourged, betrayed, and left to die. Yeah, that guy.
Beau could relate to Him. Better yet, the one time he’d whispered one of the prayers the chaplain used to say, he’d felt something. A connection with Him. Scared the shit out of Beau at the time. But the more he’d said that simple prayer, the more he’d felt that same connecting sensation. He didn’t know what it was. Might’ve just been heartburn. But it was just possible the chaplain was right. Of all the liquor, smokes, and other shit Beau had put into his worthless body over the years, that one prayer to the Man Upstairs never failed to make Beau feel better. Maybe even—
Nah. Not salvageable. Not saved or redeemed or any of that other bullshit, either. Not him. Beau wasn’t stupid enough to believe every word the chaplain had spewed. He was and would always be gutter trash, thrown away by his real mother, whoever she was. Abused and discarded by the bastard whose last name he’d had the utter misfortune to share.
Nonetheless, that one true prayer whispered off Beau’s lips now. “Thank you, Jesus.”
Chapter Twenty-One
She didn’t remember falling asleep. Only waking up to the earthy scent of the clean, masculine body under her nose. As in literally, right under her flaring nostrils. Drawing in another deep breath of pure nirvana, McKenna couldn’t recall ever enjoying the simple act of breathing in and out as much as she did this time.
Beau (In the Company of Snipers Book 18) Page 14