by Patti O'Shea
For three months after he and Ravyn had left Jarved Nine they’d talked about what they would do and where they would live. She’d resigned from the Colonization Assessment Teams within days of their landing on Earth, and he’d turned in the papers to resign his commission the day he’d returned to his base. It took six months to become effective, but then he’d be out. They could move anywhere.
As for a career, he’d been toying with the idea of starting a foundation to assist disabled veterans because the Alliance wasn’t doing nearly enough. Then he’d been summoned to the base commander’s office.
The army was reluctant to accept his resignation, claiming he was too vital to the Western Alliance. They proposed sending him to Jarved Nine to assist the military operation in the Old City. The teams based there since the alien had been defeated hadn’t found anything of use, and the army believed Damon would be more successful.
Damon had needed to call in every favor he’d been owed, but he’d managed to get Ravyn assigned to Jarved Nine with him as a civilian consultant. It wasn’t the future either of them had envisioned, but they were together and that was the important thing.
Cam pulled his mouth off the bottle’s nipple and made a smacking noise with his lips. It yanked Damon back to the here and now. Putting the bottle aside, he tossed a towel over his shoulder and lifted his son. He had lots of practice at burping and it didn’t take long before Cam issued a series of noises better suited to a linebacker than a fourteen-pound baby.
“Some day, Cam, you’re really going to impress your frat brothers,” Damon told him, pressing a kiss to his temple. He put the baby back in his crib. Cam’s mouth twisted into an angry pout and the lights flashed on and off. With a sigh, he picked him up again and settled into the chair. Rocking gently, he held his son against his chest. He’d just have to wait until Cam fell asleep.
*** *** ***
Ravyn yawned as she slid her toolbox under the bed. Damon had been broadcasting thoughts and emotions at top volume while he’d tended to Cam, and since she couldn’t sleep and block him, she’d decided to take preventative action. She’d disabled everything that produced a loud noise. Heaven knew Cam would be awake in another two hours and playing with energy again. He’d circumvented the lack of power, but she didn’t think he could get around the missing components. At least she hoped not.
She smiled to herself at the odd precautions she had to take as a mother on Jarved Nine. It certainly wasn’t traditional parenting. But then there was nothing traditional about living on another planet, surrounded by hundreds of military people looking for advanced alien technology.
In the short time they’d been back on Jarved Nine, though, Ravyn had come to like their rather strange existence. She loved living in Kale and Meriwa’s old house, the place where she and Damon had first declared their love. From what she’d heard, the full-bird colonel in charge of this mission had tried living in the grand house before she and Damon had arrived, but the vibration the crystals emanated was too high. The colonel hadn’t been able to tolerate it. In less than a day, she’d moved to a smaller, but still opulent, home nearby.
Ravyn pushed her hair off her face and decided she’d better find Damon. He’d been quiet for a while now. She crossed the hall and stopped in the doorway to the baby’s room, a sappy smile spreading across her face as she noticed her two guys asleep in the rocking chair.
Softly, she padded over to them and ran a gentle hand over her baby’s silky, dark hair. He didn’t have a lot yet, but what he did have was just right. Ravyn smothered a laugh as she studied her husband and child. The two had identical expressions on their faces. Cam was most definitely his father’s son.
She reached for Cam, carefully trying to separate him from Damon so she could put him to bed. Her husband’s grasp tightened—so protective, even while he slept.
“Honey,” she said, her voice just above a whisper, “let me have Cam. He needs to be in bed.”
Damon’s eyes partially opened and then his hold relaxed. She shifted her son into her arms and headed for the crib. Cam squawked and Ravyn stopped, swaying slowly.
“Shhh, sweetie, it’s okay. Mommy has you.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m putting you to bed, that’s all. You can’t sleep on top of Daddy, he’s tired too, okay?”
When Cam didn’t protest anymore, Ravyn resumed walking. She kissed him again, squeezing him closer for a moment, before laying him down. He settled in with barely a blink, one tiny fist curling near his chin. She couldn’t help but stare. It still amazed her to know she and Damon had created this perfect little boy. She blinked back the tears that filled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop the sappy smile from showing up again.
She sensed Damon approach, felt him slip his arms around her waist. He pushed her hair aside, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder and Ravyn leaned back against his chest. She rested her hands atop his, enjoying his touch.
“You should be sleeping,” he told her, voice still thick.
“I couldn’t,” she answered every bit as quiet as he’d been. “You were thinking too loudly.”
“Sorry, sweet pea. I’m not used to this telepathy thing yet or the way it comes and goes.”
“Me either, but then it’s been growing since we returned to Jarved Nine. I’m sure we’ll adjust to it like we have to everything else.” Ravyn also sensed it would gradually become a full-time connection, but the idea didn’t worry her a bit. She stroked his fingers with hers, loving the feel of his warm skin.
“Cam did well at the Peace Day picnic yesterday,” Damon said, resting his chin against her temple.
“He did, although we almost had some explaining to do. When Colonel McNamara spilled her water and it splashed Cam, I felt him start gathering energy. For a minute there, I thought he was going to reverse the stream and send it back to the colonel. I don’t know if he changed his mind or couldn’t figure out how to do it, but it was a close call.”
“I felt that. I didn’t realize what he was trying to do.”
Ravyn sensed her husband’s amusement and bit back her own laugh. It really wouldn’t have been funny if the baby had shown his abilities to a meadow full of people. Little Cameron Julian Brody, named for Damon’s maternal grandfather and her father, was proving to be the handful she’d predicted before he’d been born.
Ravyn loved Peace Day. She always had. Started by people in the New Age movement at the end of the 1990s, it had originally been called Peace in a Day and the goal had been an end to all wars by the turn of the millennium. It hadn’t worked, but still, for one day a year, everyone was supposed to visualize world harmony. She’d always wanted peace very badly, but now that she was a mother, that wish had taken on new urgency. And maybe, just maybe, something they found here on Jarved Nine would help.
Thinking about her desire for peace brought something else to mind. “What were you and Alex talking about at the picnic?”
Her brother had pulled strings to get assigned to Jarved Nine with her and Damon. She still didn’t know how he’d convinced his superiors to send Spec Ops teams here for security or to get himself appointed as the officer in charge of them. Or how he’d gotten Stacey assigned as CAT liaison for the project. No one else from CAT was here.
They both froze as Cam shifted and made a little noise. When he settled back into sleep, they breathed a sigh of relief. Damon and Alex mostly got along. Now. But Alex continued to watch over her, hell-bent on ensuring her husband treated her right, and that led to an occasional flare up.
“It wasn’t about you, sweet pea,” Damon said, his voice even softer than before. “He and McNamara have been butting heads and he wanted my opinion, that’s all.” He must have felt her surprise. “Yeah, I know. Sullivan asking for my take on something is rarer than lamordite. What about the intense conversation you had with him?”
“That was about Stacey. I suggested he marry her since they’ve been living together for almost a year now.”
“Bet he loved that.�
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“He told me to mind my own business.”
Damon snorted. “Yeah, right The same way he minds his. Your brother might be mellowing, though. He only threatened my life twice yesterday.”
Ravyn laughed and turned her head so she could see Damon’s face. “You just need to keep me happy, honey, and you’re safe.”
“And are you happy?”
Like he needed to ask. The bond between them was so strong, he sometimes knew what she felt before she did. Now, with this telepathic link appearing and starting to grow between them, he’d probably know what she was thinking before she did.
“I could be happier,” she told him, trying to hide a smile.
“Yeah? Anything I can do?” He nuzzled the place where her neck and shoulder met.
“You’re on the right track.”
“Well, let me know when I reach the station.”
Ravyn wiggled her bottom against the front of his jeans. He went still for an instant and then one hand came up, cupping her breast through the silky fabric of her night slip. His other arm tightened across her waist, pulling her more firmly against his body. “Sweet pea, why don’t we go rest?”
Ravyn didn’t need a telepathic link to know what Damon meant by rest. She pressed herself more firmly into his hand. “Honey, I like the way you think.”
§ § §
About the Author
Nationally bestselling author Patti O’Shea has won numerous awards for her writing and been nominated for many more. Her books have appeared on the Barnes & Noble, Waldenbooks, and Borders bestseller lists and have earned starred reviews in prestigious publications such as Publishers Weekly and Booklist.
www.pattioshea.com
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Dedication and Acknowledgements
For Mom and Dad, who always said I could do anything and meant it. I love you.
To Jenny Low, the High Priestess. Thank you for nudging me back on my path, for reading the words hot off the computer, and for your expert advice on the action scenes.
To Theresa Monsey, the synopsis goddess. Thank you for finding the holes everyone else missed, for pointing out where details were needed, and for listening to me go on and on about the story.
To Maria Hammon, the HoF. Thank you for finding the little pieces of illogic, for proofreading, and for your enthusiasm.
And to Mo Kearney, Karen King, and Dolly Lien for the time they spent reading, proofing, and offering encouragement.
More Futuristic Romance From Patti O’Shea
Eternal Nights—Jarved Nine Book 2
Captain Kendall Thomas uncovers a smuggling ring while stationed on Jarved Nine, but before she can expose it, she and Special Ops Captain Wyatt Montgomery are trapped inside an alien pyramid. As the smugglers hunt them through the maze of corridors, Kendall learns things she never knew before—about herself, the pyramid, and her relationship with Wyatt.
Excerpt from Eternal Nights
Shit, his head hurt.
Wyatt would have cursed aloud, but he didn’t have the strength for that. What the hell had hit him? A laser cannon? As he tried to figure it out, he felt himself start to drift.
He didn’t know how long it took him to regain awareness, but his head didn’t feel any better this time. His thoughts, however, were clearer. Wherever he was, the ground was hard as hell. Without moving, he listened carefully, trying to pick up whether there was any threat present, but it was quiet.
Good thing. He hadn’t felt this weak since he’d taken a bullet two years ago. His front side ached—probably because of what he was lying on, rather than any injury—and his head throbbed like mad. Everything else, though, seemed to be pain-free and in working order. Slowly, he brought a hand up to his skull, but he didn’t find any blood or other sign of trauma.
Okay, now he needed to open his eyes and discover what was going on. Simple. But the thought of light made the pounding in his head increase in intensity. Come on, Marsh, he told himself, gotta check out what’s happening. Barely suppressing a groan, he forced his eyelids apart. It was pitch black, and he couldn’t see a damn thing. Where in the hell was he?
Again he listened, and again he heard nothing that concerned him. As he breathed deeply, trying to work up some interest in moving, he detected the faintest hint of some spicy, sexy scent. Bug, he thought, his lips curving.
Bug!
Memory came back in a merciless wave and he pushed himself from his belly to a sitting position. The pain reached a crescendo, as if rockets were being launched inside his brain, but he ignored it. It was Bug who was important. “Kendall?” His voice came out thick, raspy, almost unrecognizable and close to inaudible. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Kendall?”
No response.
Damn it, he needed some lights!
Lights. The pyramid had to have the same system of illumination as the other buildings, right? The pounding in his head slowed him down, but at last, he managed to raise a soft glow.
Frantically, he scanned the room. He saw her bag in the middle of the floor and figured they’d tossed it in here to prevent anyone from finding it. His gaze kept moving until he spotted Bug’s procumbent form. Wyatt ran his eyes over her, searching for some sign of injury, but she appeared unharmed. A second, longer look showed her arm was extended toward him and that made his heart stutter. Maybe that was how she’d fallen after taking a blast from the popper, but he wanted to think it was significant. Particularly after the way she’d ardently expressed her belief in him.
When he’d heard that lie about detaining her, he’d expected Bug to think the worst—and it had looked bad, even he could see that—but she hadn’t bought that bullshit for an instant. Hell, he still felt heat warm the center of his chest when he thought about how she’d jumped in to declare her faith in his integrity.
He moved next to her and pushed her long brown hair off her face. The small frown between her brows made him smile. That was his Bug, ferocious even while unconscious.
“Come on, Kendall, you need to wake up.”
She didn’t so much as twitch. Okay, she was smaller than he was—if she’d been hit with the same amount of drug, she would be out longer. But he wanted her eyes open, wanted to see she was for sure all right. If anything happened to Kendall, he’d kill each one of those sons of bitches and he’d do it real slow.
Carefully, tenderly, Wyatt moved her so she’d be more comfortable. He held her on his lap because that made him feel more comfortable. Her soft breath puffed against his throat and he swallowed hard. “Damn, darlin’, you don’t have a clue what you do to me, do you?” Moving slowly, he cuddled her against his chest. “Probably a good thing,” he continued softly. “You’d run so hard and so fast, I might not be able to catch you.”
Leaning forward, he shifted her in order to press his lips to her forehead. Wyatt watched her face, waiting for her to wake, and stroked her hair. He knew she hated her wholesome look. How many times had he heard her complain about her girl-next-door appearance? She always used that phrase and he supposed it fit.
But there was a lot more to her than that.
At her heart, Bug was a warrior. He doubted she realized it herself, but she didn’t back down from much, and when it came to friends, she was fiercely loyal. A man could count on a woman like this. If he could pin her down long enough to make her his.
He smiled again, but ruefully this time. Wyatt had never thought it would be this hard—he’d thought she would know him the same way he’d known her—but he wasn’t giving up. The soft, warm weight of Kendall in his arms filled him with such contentment, such a sense of rightness, that he knew the work was worth it. His hand stilled mid-stroke and he let his fingers stay tangled in her hair. Her eyes were open, but unfocused.
“Kendall, are you okay?” He kept his voice low, sure her head hurt as bad as his had when he first awoke.
Her green gaze sharpened, zoomed in on him, and he let out a quiet sigh of relief. The awarene
ss had to be a good sign.
“Why’d you let me drink so much?” Her voice was a croak, but he made out the words.
“You didn’t drink anything, I promise.”
Kendall’s brow scrunched up. “If I’m not hungover, why does my head feel like someone used it as a bowling ball?”
Wyatt laughed, he couldn’t help it, and when she glared at him, he laughed harder. It wasn’t until she reached up and gave his biceps a hard pinch, that he forced himself to sober, but he couldn’t quite banish the smile. Especially when he realized she was making no effort to get off his lap.
“Your memory will come back in a few minutes and then you’ll know why your head hurts.” His lips twitched again and he got another pinch. “Sorry. I’m laughing from relief, I swear. You’ve been out for a while and I was worrying, that’s all.”
She scowled at him for a moment more, then it eased. “You must be concerned—your drawl is thicker.”
It didn’t surprise him that she knew him that well. They’d spent a lot of time together since meeting—he’d made sure of that—and if Kendall thought they were nothing more than friends... Well, whatever the hell worked. For now.
He went back to stroking her hair.
Her hand curled around his biceps and the feel of her fingers pressing into his muscle made him feel connected to her. It wasn’t only him hanging on to her any longer—she was holding on to him too.
He knew he should be doing at least half a dozen other things right now, but he didn’t care. They weren’t in immediate danger and he had Bug in his arms. The rest of the world could go to hell. But far too soon, he felt her stiffen and saw her eyes were clearing.