Jace

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Jace Page 1

by T. A. Grey




  Jace

  Bodyguards for Hire

  Book 1

  T. A. GREY

  WARNING: The story in this book contains explicit sexual content. This book is intended for mature audiences only. It contains sexually explicit scenes that may be offensive. Please keep your file in a safe area on your computer and away from minors.

  This book is not transferable. If it is sold, shared, or given away it is infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and scenarios are solely the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, though references to actual events or locations may be real.

  Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.

  Cover Design by: Melody Simmons of eBookindiecovers

  Edited by: Lea Ellen Borg/Night Owl Editing Services

  Jace: Bodyguards for Hire

  Copyright © August 2013 T. A. Grey

  www.tagrey.com

  All Rights Reserved

  Chapter 1

  Vvvrrrrrm. Vrrrrrrm.

  Mara Colgen’s phone vibrated in her lap with another call. The sixth once since she left work…four minutes ago. Rolling her eyes, she braked at the red light behind a big black truck and checked her phone. It was the same number as the last five calls and she still had no idea who it was.

  Fear tingled at the back of her neck. There was nothing to worry about. She just needed to shake her head of all these phone calls she kept receiving. It was probably nothing.

  The light turned green and Mara headed down Franklyn Boulevard. The street always made her smile. It was her favorite. It was a small and cozy neighborhood with cafés, pastry shops, vintage clothing stores, vintage vinyl stores, tattoo parlors and other trendy shops. The coffee shops even let customers bring their small dogs inside, most of which were carried on the arms of girls with too much tan.

  Mara had never actually been to any of these places. She and her best friend, Tia, preferred movies nights at home with booze, popcorn, and good food. They got together once a week to talk about their jobs, men, mothers, and who they wanted to win American Idol. Though Mara never had much to complain about regarding her job. After all, she worked as a sex toy operator and with all the orgasms she had, she stayed pretty happy most days. And as for the husband thing, well, Mara never had one. Not even once.

  The last man she’d been in a relationship with, though she hesitated to call it a ‘relationship’, hadn’t ended well. It’d ended in a blaze of pain from the blows he’d rained down on her. That six-month ‘relationship’ had ended the moment his hand curled into a fist and touched her in anger. Or so that’s what she told her family or even Tia when they asked her about Corey and that time of her life. She didn’t actually admit that he’d hit her before that one awful night. That she’d thought the first time was a real accident.

  Vrrrrrm. Vrrrrrm.

  “There you go again.”

  Mara thought over her bills but knew she was paid up on time. This was no bill collector. She’d been getting strange calls recently and though she was hesitant to admit it to herself, she thought it might be him. Now, she had no proof it was him. He never spoke. All she had to go on was her gut feeling. The person who liked to call her over the past few months never said a word. Not one. Yet he called. Sometimes it’d be days before she’d hear anything and she’d forget all about the strange calls and move on. Or sometimes it’d be ten, fifteen, even twenty times a day. He never left a message, never breathed like a creep into the phone. Aside from it being harassment she didn’t know what to make of it. More importantly, she didn’t know if Corey had found her or not.

  Vrrrrrm Vrrrrrm Vrrrrrm.

  Worse, she hated to talk on the phone while driving. Her strict no cell phone use while driving included texting, video chats, or trying to take pictures while operating a two-ton war machine—aka, her little VW Bug.

  Vvvrrrrm. Vrrrrm Vrrrrrm Vrrrrrm Vrrrrrm.

  Only the calls didn’t stop. They went on and on. Street after street, she continued to press the off button to cancel the call. When the person called again she’d let the call go to see if they would leave a voicemail. No go.

  On and on it went. Vrrrrrm Vrrrrrm Vrrrrrm.

  More streets passed and still she trailed the shiny black truck in front of her while that stupid phone vibrated with each new call in her lap.

  Another call. Another. Another…until she finally snapped. She answered that stupid phone with all the charm of a football couch yelling at his team. “What!”

  Silence met her on the other end of the line.

  “Stop calling me, you damn weirdo!”

  No breathing, nothing; yet she knew someone was listening. If a police officer asked how she knew, all she could say was she had a gut feeling.

  Nothing she could prove in court.

  “That’s it. I’m going to get this number tracked and turn it over to the police. I’m sure you’ll have a great day when they bust down your door for harassment!”

  She hung up, breathing hard and knowing her threat held no merit. When her gaze flicked back up to the road, it was too late. For one endless moment, her mind froze at what she saw. Oh no, she thought.

  She slammed on the brakes but it didn’t matter. Her little VW Bug barreled into the beautifully shining black truck in front of her like she was trying to run it over. Only her much smaller car came to a complete stop right away as if the truck had an invisible shield protecting it.

  The air bag exploded, slamming her head backward and making everything all fuzzy.

  She mumbled, blinking slowly as her brain shuffled to keep up with the rest of the world. A high-pitched sound rang in her ears and slowly solidified like someone turning a dial up. That ringing became her horn which was wailing. A glance out of the broken windshield made her breath catch.

  A man stepped down from that big black truck. A big man wearing a scowl that could scare a nun. He reached under her hood looking pissed off. Hot and pissed off. Why hello, gorgeous, her feminine side purred. He did something under the hood and her horn stopped blaring. Her eyes flared. He fixed it. She liked this man already. Any man who was handy with cars was handy in the bedroom, or at least that’s what she’d heard. She eyed his hand but didn’t spot a wedding band on his finger. Nice.

  Please don’t be a gay. Bi would work, but not gay.

  His eyes met hers. Yep, he was mad. He looked downright violent. Coming around the side of her car, he threw open the door and got in her face. All she could see were lovely light blue eyes. The kind that almost looked blue but were really more gray than blue, and he had a black ball cap pulled low over his eyes, and wearing a white T-shirt, jeans, and boots. He was definitely mixed with that perfect caramel skin tone. And he was glaring at her.

  “Ahem,” she cleared her throat. “I’m very sorry about all this. Your truck looked so…nice.” She attempted a smile.

  His eyes narrowed in an are-you-shitting-me look. “Lady, what the fuck’s the matter with you? How did you not see me? My truck takes up most of the damn road.” His eyes flicked down to her lap and his jaw actually snapped to the side. She could hear it crack. “Fucking texting. You little bitch, you know that’s against the law for a reason, right?”

  Her jaw fell open in shock, but before she could respond to his name-calling, he threw his hand up in her face. Actually threw his hand up. In her face.

  “Don’t wanna hear it, lady. Get your license and registration. I’m callin’ the cops.”

  He left before she could form a reply. Onl
y after he wasn’t in her face could she take a calm breath. “Well that didn’t go well, Mara.” She giggled a little, an involuntary response that couldn’t be helped, and grabbed the necessary items he’d ordered her to get. She met him at his truck as he was getting off the phone.

  “They’ll be by soon to make a report.”

  He went back to the back of his truck, shaking his head. From his profile she noticed he had a hard, sleek jawline covered in rough stubble several days too thick, and hollowed cheekbones. He had a hard looking forehead. Weird, she never recalled noticing someone’s forehead before but his looked like he could bash someone’s skull in with it. Nice.

  He was mumbling under his breath about women drivers and texting. That’s where she had to stop him. Hot or not, he was wrong about her.

  “Listen here, hot cakes, I wasn’t texting. I don’t text.”

  His gaze snapped to her, then looked her body up and down before cocking an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Well I don’t believe that for a second.”

  “Why not? I don’t make it a point to lie to strangers.”

  “Oh yeah? You save the lying for your dear friends instead?”

  Mara thought about his point and nodded. “Actually, yes. Those are the people whose opinions I actually care about so if I’m going to lie about something like, say, thinking my mom’s new dress is pretty when I hate it, then I’ll lie.”

  After she finished her little speech he nodded once, a jerk of his head. A silent form of agreement. She wanted to fist pump at her victory but kept her energy reined in.

  “I was actually on the phone,” she clarified.

  He threw up his arms, shaking his head. “That’s illegal in this state, lady.”

  “Oh, I’ve upgraded from bitch. Very nice.” She couldn’t help smiling at him.

  His brow pinched forward. “Now is not the time for jokes. You just wrecked my rear end.”

  Speaking of, her gaze fell down to his ass and verified that indeed it looked as hot as the rest of him. Mmm, mmm, good, as her friends would say.

  “Excuse me, did you just check out my ass?” The man looked like he didn’t know what to do.

  She made a perfect Oh did I just do that? face. “Maybe.” She cocked her head, gauging his response.

  He looked like he might say something, then shook his head. “If you think being cute with me is gonna get you out of this then you’re shit out of luck.” He took out his phone and started snapping pictures of the wreckage. She quickly did the same, since he just reminded her she should be doing that. She did notice that his truck had only a scratch and a few smaller dents along the bumper while her entire front-end was smashed like an accordion.

  Mara stood beside him trying not to smile, and utterly failing, while she snapped pictures for her insurance company. “So, you think I’m cute?”

  “What the fuck?” Shaking his head, he made some noise between laugh and disbelief. “Hand over your license and registration.”

  Snickering at his cop-voice, she handed him the docs. He looked them over, paying special interest to her driver’s license. She knew what he’d find there: 5’5”, brown eyes, blonde, and a weight she refused to even think aloud. Not too shabby, if she did say so herself.

  “Oh, hold on,” she said, suddenly remembering. She grabbed her business card out of her wallet and handed it to him. “Here’s my business card. Keep it. In case there are any problems along the way. I’ll be sure to fix your truck. I really am sorry. If it helps, I’ve only been in two accidents before.”

  He took the card but didn’t look at her. “Two? Lady, you make that sound like that’s nothing.”

  “Two is hardly anything.”

  “You know how many accidents I’ve caused in my life? Zero.”

  “Well, aren’t you fancy.” Her lips twitched again. Who knew teasing such a big man would be so much fun.

  He sent her a withering glare then looked down at her card. It was a light pink with red, fancy lettering. “Mara Colgen, Sex Toy Operator.” He said the words slowly as if they were written in another language.

  “Yes.” Honestly, one of her favorite parts about having her job was the reactions she got when people found out.

  “You are a sex toy operator,” he said again.

  “Mmhmm. Sure am.” Another winning smile. He didn’t even lift his gaze from the card.

  “Tell me, darlin’, what does that actually mean?”

  Oh, now she was darlin’? Oh how her position had moved up in the world. She was a bitch only five minutes ago. “Well, as you can see from that card, I work at Aphrodite’s Love and we are one of the biggest designers and distributers of adult sex toys. I’m a tester. I also help the production team tweak designs.”

  “You…” he scratched the back of his head, flicked his gaze down her body again, then continued in that measured way. “Your job is to test sex toys for a living?”

  Her eyes lit up. Little pleased her more than talking about her job. “Yes, I love my job. I have one of the lowest stress jobs in the world. Did you know that? Just today I got to test out a new vibrator---”

  The wail of a police siren interrupted the conversation. Just when it was getting good. The police officer came over and she fessed up to the phone call which distracted her from driving. The officer didn’t seem to care much that she’d ignored the caller the first eleven times. After all was said in done, she had a feeling her insurance rates were about to go up. The officer left, leaving her alone with him again. The hottest man she’d ever seen up close in her life.

  Jace Mathews.

  Or, Mr. Jace Mathews, as the officer had called him.

  How is it that the man’s name was sexy? The man must have been born lucky. His parents could have named him Maynard or Ted or Ruby Sue. But no, not this guy. This was Jace Mathews, a man who drove a big black truck. Mara planned to rectify her lack of knowledge on this interesting man as soon as possible.

  Jace put away the cop’s paperwork in his truck before coming to her. The man actually had a stride when he walked. How could he not with those long, sinewy legs? He thrust a business card at her.

  Jace Mathews. Surveillance. Protection. Bodyguard. It listed a work number and said SPS at the top. Superior Protective Services.

  “You’re a bodyguard.” She arched a brow at that, almost not buying it.

  “Among other things, yeah. What of it?”

  “Seriously, I’m supposed to believe that?”

  His face contorted into a confused look. “Believe what, lady? That is my job. You wanna see my damn name badge too?”

  “Actually---”

  “Nah, forget it. I just want to get out of here. It’s been a helluva day already and this was the icing on the cake right here.”

  “Really, you shouldn’t be so angry. My car’s in far worse shape than yours. It doesn’t seem fair.”

  He eyed her car then pulled out his phone again, cursing and mumbling so softly she couldn’t make out the words. A minute later he turned to her. “I got a tow truck coming to get your car. In the meantime, I’m taking you home.”

  Um.

  “Excuse me?” She couldn’t help but feel that several steps had been bypassed here.

  “The tow driver works for SPS. He’ll take it to the lot or an auto shop. I’d recommend the lot until you’re sure which auto shop you wanna use.”

  “Okay,” she said slowly. “So I don’t need to wait here and sign anything…?”

  “Just get your shit and let’s go.” He got into his truck and slammed the door shut, waiting for her.

  Well then. Mara grabbed her shit and got up into Mr. Jace Mathew’s truck. The truck took off on a loud roar. His engine put hers to shame.

  “You really work with sex toys?” he asked a minute later.

  She fought a grin. “Sure do. Are you really a bodyguard with the name Jace Mathews?”

  He gave her another strange look. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?�


  “Like I’m weird.” He looked uncomfortable as if he thought this whole situation was strange.

  God, right away she knew this man was different. He was not Corey. His eyes were too kind, the laugh lines around the corners of his mouth were genuine. She knew now to look at a person’s face, to really look. If she had when she met Corey then she would have run far and hard the moment she met him.

  “It wouldn’t be weird if you looked like a normal guy, had a normal name, and a normal job.” A whole lot like Corey. Don’t even think about him, Mara, he doesn’t deserve even that much.

  “Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Mara Colgen. Call me Mara.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “Where do you live…Mara?” He hesitated to use her name and she wondered why.

  She gave him her address, sat back, and waited. “I really am sorry about your truck. I don’t believe in using cell phones while driving but someone keeps calling me. He’d called about twelve times in a row before I finally answered to cuss him out. That’s about when I took my eyes off the road.”

  His body tensed, became alert. “You got a problem? Stalker? A crazy ex-boyfriend, co-worker, husband, friend?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so.” She laughed, feeling that niggling fear that never completely dissipated. That fear that would never go away so long as Corey was alive. She needed to change the subject, and fast. “So what do you normally do as a bodyguard?”

  “We get some clients that need physical protection which is what you’re thinking of as a bodyguard, but mostly we do surveillance, protection of property, things like that.”

  “Protection of property, what does that mean?”

  “Objects like jewelry and special documents. We ensure nothing happens to them while transporting it. We also set up security systems.”

  His job sounded so important compared to hers. It certainly topped her ex’s job as a cashier at a gun shop.

  “So now you know what I do at my job. I wanna know more about yours. You mentioned a vibrator earlier…” He looked at her, daring her to chicken out and be bashful now.

 

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