Handled: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World)

by Heather Slade

  Rock approached when the car pulled up in front of her house. “They’re in the backyard,” he told me before opening the door to let me inside.

  I stood and watched her from a window, and what I saw, broke my heart. Gone was my little spitfire, and in her place was a woman in pain. It was etched all over her face and in the way her shoulders drooped forward.

  My hand was on the door to go out when I heard her cry out and saw she’d cut her finger. As if in slow motion, I watched Buck race over to her. When he led in her my direction, I went back into the living room.

  I stood silently, waiting for her to notice me, hating that Buck’s arm was around her, until she finally raised her eyes and stared into mine.

  “Cope?” she whispered. I saw her eyes roll back in her head and her knees buckle. I raced over and caught her in my arms even though Buck had been closer.

  “She has a cut on her hand,” he said as I carried her over to the sofa and sat with her on my lap. I nodded, and Buck walked out the front door, closing it behind him.

  “Ali, my love,” I murmured, brushing her hair from her face. When her eyes opened, I bent my head and kissed her. “Hi,” I said when her eyes filled with tears.

  “Cope?” she repeated.

  “I’m really here, Ali, and I’m so sorry.”

  What began as a few tears, turned into sobs as we clung to each other.

  “I’d hoped,” she whispered.

  “I wish I could’ve told you, warned you, but I couldn’t.”

  All the muscles in her body tensed as she wriggled out of my arms. She wiped her tears with her left hand that was no longer covered by a cast, and stood.

  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

  “I already know.”

  She studied me, and I held my hand out to her. “Come back. My arms ache not holding you.”

  “You’re not angry?”

  “When did it stop being a job for you, Ali?”

  She smiled, her cheeks turned pink, and she finally took my hand and let me pull her back on my lap. I grasped the back of her neck and kissed her. It felt unbelievably good when she wrapped both arms around my neck.

  “Well?” I asked, pulling back and looking into her eyes.

  “I think it was the baklava that did it.”

  I raised a brow, remembering her swatting the back of my hand with a fork.

  “Or maybe it was when I woke up after the accident and you were sitting beside me.”

  “You almost died because of me,” I murmured, closing my mind to the memory of when I first saw my car and realized how close she’d come.

  “I didn’t, though. Neither did you,” she said, cupping my cheek like I’d done so many times to her. “I love you.”

  “Say it again.”

  “I love you, Sumner Copeland.”

  “I love you too, Ali Graham Mancuso.”

  Twenty-Five

  Ali

  One Month Later

  “You’re sure about this?” Cope asked as we walked toward the two exercise bikes that sat near the floor-to-ceiling windows of his loft.

  “I did it yesterday with the drapes closed. Today I’ll try with them open.”

  “Keep your eyes on the floor,” he murmured, holding my hand until I was on the seat of the bike. He’d turned it on earlier and had it set up so I could see him in a window on the screen once he was on the one beside me.

  The workout he’d programmed started slow, but as competitive as we both were, I knew that soon we’d enter race mode.

  “Look up, baby,” he said.

  “I will.”

  “I know you can do it.”

  I slowly raised my head and looked in front of me. All I could see was the building across the street. “So far so good,” I told him.

  “Now look at me.”

  I turned my head, but stopped when I saw the view of the Capitol Building. “It really is breathtaking,” I murmured.

  “Sure is.”

  I turned to Cope, who was looking at me rather than out the window.

  “I’m proud of you, Ali.”

  “I’m proud of me too.” I turned back to the screen when I felt the tension in the pedals tighten.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Bring it.”

  He won the virtual race, of course, but I didn’t mind, because I’d won something too. I couldn’t say that every time I got near the windows, or in the elevator, or any other place where my fear of heights once crippled me, that it wouldn’t be a struggle. But today, I’d conquered those fears enough to something that I sometimes felt was more important to Cope than it was to me.

  Later this evening, we were having dinner at his parents’ house, like we did every Sunday. Since we were celebrating Fisk receiving three life sentences after his conviction earlier this week, Cope had invited several of the men who had protected both of us through the final days of the mission that had begun so many years before. I couldn’t wait to see Buck, who had become like a brother to me. I’m sure Cope felt the same about seeing Irish.

  “Hey,” said Cope, looking at his phone while I made us both coffee. “Stella said she’s going to be able to make it after all.”

  “We have some celebrating to do tonight,” Cope said when he climbed behind me in the tub that was almost identical to the one in the apartment I’d been staying in when we met. “I think we should start now, though.”

  “You won’t get any argument from me.” I took his right hand and put it on my breast. When I reached for his left hand, he had it above his head.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered into my ear before nipping its lobe. “Are they closed?”

  “Yes.”

  Twenty-Six

  Cope

  I’d had it since the week after Fisk was arrested and I knew Ali and I would be free to live our lives without fear. I also knew by then that she loved me as much as I loved her.

  “Open,” I said, holding the open box in front of her. When she gasped, I bent my neck and kissed the side of her face. “Will you marry me, Ali?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, making me regret I hadn’t done this in a way that I could see her face.

  I slid the ring on the third finger of her left hand. It was a perfect fit.

  I set the box on the floor when she scooted away from me, got on her knees, and turned around. There were tears in her eyes, but she was smiling. I pulled her toward me and kissed her hard. “I love you so fucking much.”

  She stood and pulled me up with her. Dripping from the bath, we padded our way into the bedroom. When she rested against the pillows, I kissed my way from her lips down her body, stopping first at her breasts and then again when I reached the apex between her legs.

  “Cope?”

  I raised my head and looked into her eyes.

  “Make love to me.”

  I kissed my way back up her body and kissed her. I understood what she wanted. I wanted it too. I rested my elbows on either side of her neck and entered her slowly. My eyes met hers; I didn’t want to do as much as blink.

  “I love you,” she said, as I began to move.

  I rotated my hips, my cock filling her warmth, exploring, like I did with my tongue.

  “Ali.” It was too much for me to hold back.

  Her neck arched, and she met my thrusts.

  “You’re mine,” I groaned as I came.

  “And you’re mine.”

  We’d been to my parents’ house for dinner every Sunday we were in DC rather than at Ali’s house in California. Tonight would be different, though. Our friends would be there too, giving me the chance to tell those who meant the most to me, that Ali had agreed to become my wife.

  “Ready?” I asked when I pulled up to the door. Several cars were lining the street in front of the house.

  Ali was studying her engagement ring. “Did I tell you how much I love it?”

  “Maybe twenty or thirty times.”

  While I grabbed the box of champ
agne we’d brought with us, Ali carried the vase of flowers she always brought my mother when we visited. The second time she’d done so, I told her it wasn’t necessary: my parents had beautiful gardens.

  “I don’t feel right arriving empty-handed, Cope,” she told me. “It isn’t polite.”

  I smiled then, and now, remembering how Ali had said she didn’t feel right, using a restaurant’s restroom without purchasing something. She’d bought me a piece of pie that morning, and shortly after, a car had rammed into my car while she was driving it.

  When I reached for the door’s handle, Ali covered my hand with hers. I raised my brow and looked into her eyes.

  “Happy memories today, Cope.”

  “Happy memories,” I murmured in answer.

  It was uncanny how my future wife always seemed to notice when I thought about how I’d almost lost her, sometimes before I even realized I was thinking about it.

  When I opened the door, I was stunned to see the living room just off the entryway was full. All of the people we’d expected to come, were there, along with many more we hadn’t anticipated seeing.

  Along with Buck and Rock, Decker Ashford and the other Invincibles’ partners were there as were the team from another covert ops firm I’d worked with many times called K19 Security Solutions. I’d made sure Desi could be here too, and loved the look of surprise on Ali’s face when she was the first person whose arms she ran into.

  “We’re likely to start a bidding war,” said Kade Butler, founding partner of K19, when he stepped forward to shake my hand.

  “He’s already ours,” said Decker Ashford.

  Ali must’ve overheard the conversation and walked over to put her arm in mine. “He’s mine, Decker. All mine.”

  “We’d be interested in both of you coming on board,” said Merrigan, Kade’s wife, former MI6 agent, and managing partner of K19. Merrigan’s eyes focused on Ali’s ring finger. “It looks like there’s some celebrating in order.”

  “Shh,” Ali whispered. “We haven’t told Cope’s parents yet.”

  Merrigan smiled and nodded, clapping her hands in excitement.

  “Speaking of my parents.” I didn’t see either of them.

  Ali took my hand and led me into the kitchen, where we found my mom and dad. I deposited the case of champagne I’d had under my arm on the counter.

  “There they are,” said my father, rushing over to hug Ali and then me. My mother was right behind him.

  “What’s this?” he asked, pointing to the box.

  “We have something extra to celebrate tonight.”

  Ali thrust her hand, which had been behind her back, in my mother’s direction. She gasped, and her eyes filled with tears. My dad patted me on the back, his eyes misty like my mom’s were.

  “We’d hoped this would happen soon,” my mom murmured, hugging Ali for the second time.

  “We’re so happy for you,” said my dad, hugging me a second time too.

  I heard someone behind me clear his throat and turned to see Irish in the doorway. The man was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother.

  “Here’s the best man, now,” I said, motioning for him to join us.

  “Seriously?” he asked, putting his arm around Ali’s shoulders. “Let me see that thing.”

  The rest of the evening was filled with endless celebration. My mother was busy first telling Ali the wedding could be whatever she wanted, and then asking how soon she wanted to start planning it. I’d warned her that since I had no siblings, let alone sisters, my mom might overwhelm her when it came to our ceremony. “You’re her only daughter. She’ll want to spoil you.”

  “It’s okay, Cope. She’s my only mother.”

  Epilogue

  Cope

  My eyes filled with tears as I watched the woman who would soon be my wife walk down the garden path in my parents’ backyard. Ali’s arm was tucked in my father’s, who had offered to walk her down the aisle. She had ecstatically accepted.

  My eyes met Lindsey’s, who was standing a couple of rows back. She smiled and winked, perhaps remembering the fateful night when Ali and I met in her café. The same café that, much to my mother’s initial shock, was catering the lunch that followed the ceremony.

  Ali had requested two things: gyro salad and baklava; otherwise, she gave Lindsey free rein.

  “That’s odd,” my mother had said when she looked at the menu Lindsey had prepared. “But whatever Ali wants, Ali gets. She makes you so happy, Sumner. I will spend my life thanking her for that.” She did make me happy. More than I dreamed possible.

  Irish put his hand on my shoulder. “She’s beautiful,” he murmured.

  I reached up and covered his hand with mine, so thankful he was alive to stand beside me.

  “Only good memories,” I could hear Ali say inside my head.

  “You both deserve every bit of happiness life brings you.”

  “So do you, Irish.”

  “I’m workin’ on it. Looks like I’m not the only one.” He motioned with his head, and I looked briefly at where Buck stood next to Stella, his arm draped around her shoulders.

  My gaze then met my bride’s. “I love you,” I mouthed. My father lifted her veil, took her hand, and put it in mine.

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  Bucked

  “How are you holding up?” I whispered in the ear of the woman standing beside me.

  “About as well as you are,” she whispered back as we watched the woman I’d fallen hopelessly in love with walk down the aisle toward the man she was marrying instead of me.

  My plus-one, Stella, and I had spent a couple of drunken nights drowning in our shared misery since she was equally in love with the groom. I was sure tonight would be no different.

  We turned when Ali, the bride, reached the place where Cope, the groom, stood waiting along with the minister who would marry them. It wasn’t the bride who captured my gaze, though. It was Stella. She looked so damn pretty today I almost swallowed my tongue when I picked her up at her apartment.

  “Stop that,” she’d said, punching my arm.

  “Stop what?”

  “Looking at me like I’m really your date.”

  I wanted to tell her she really was my date and that she was breathtaking. But I wouldn’t put her on the spot like that. The woman, whose real name I didn’t know—I’d only heard her referred to as either TJ or Stella—had been in love with Sumner Copeland since the day I met her. It didn’t matter that it was unrequited.

  Cope had given her the nickname Stella. All the more reason for me not to use it. Maybe today would be the day I stopped. Maybe it would also be the day I told TJ how I really felt about her, and that instead of being her convenient plus-one, I wanted to be the real thing.

  I shook my head at my foolishness. Not only would she carry a torch for Cope for-fucking-ever, she was a city girl. Born and raised. I was the exact opposite. I’d grown up on a ranch, shoveling shit, and never able to get the dirt out from under my fingernails.

  The thing we had in common, other than being in love with people who weren’t in love with us, was that we’d both traveled the world for our jobs.

  She was an award-winning journalist, and up until recently, I had been an agent with the CIA. I’d retired but still worked in the business, just for a private intelligence firm instead.

  That was how TJ and I met. I’d been assigned to an op involving asset protection—for Ali. TJ was covering a trial involving Cope, during which Ali’s safety had been compromised.

  I glanced at her again when the minister began the ceremony. Instead of looking at Cope, she was looking at me.

  —Stella—

  “You
clean up good,” I’d said to Buck when he picked me up at my apartment. What I’d almost said instead was that he looked really fucking hot. So hot, I wanted to take his clothes off piece by piece and spend the afternoon exploring his naked body, rather than attending the wedding of the guy I’d spent the last few years secretly in love with.

  Was that even true? Had I been in love with Cope, or was it just infatuation? Before Ali, his bride, was in his life, I’d had plenty of fantasies in which he was the star. Porn star, if I was honest.

  I looked Buck up and down when I saw him doing the same thing to me. The man was every cowboy fantasy I’d ever had, come to life. Add in his scruffy beard and long hair, and he was the exact opposite of Sumner Copeland. No less hot. Actually, more so.

  Unfortunately, one of the things Buck and Cope had in common represented the reason my hot cowboy fantasies would never come to life. They were both hopelessly in love with Ali Graham Mancuso, who in about fifteen minutes, would add Copeland to her name.

  Why had I agreed to even come to the wedding? Especially with Buck? If I’d said no, I wouldn’t have been forced to watch the man I wished I’d had sex with at least once get married while standing next to the man I wished I could have sex with right now. And by right now, I meant drag him back to that sexy-as-fuck pickup he drove us here in and ride him like the cowboy he was.

  I clenched my thighs together when I felt Buck’s hand brush against mine. That’s all it took. One simple touch. Then he made it worse. He leaned over, put his mouth next to my ear, and whispered. It didn’t matter what he said. I couldn’t think straight enough to hear it anyway.

  I turned my head before he pulled away. His lips were close enough that I could kiss them, if only I had the balls to do it.