by Aliyah Burke
“It’s okay, Dak,” Tempest said.
Her son stepped toward her, searching her face.
Tempest sent him an encouraging nod.
Dropping his bag on the floor, Dakota kissed her cheek
and looked at the third party. “What are you doing here?”
Dakota asked again, with only slightly less animosity in his
voice this time.
“I wanted to see my daughter. And my grandson.”
Tempest watched her son cross strong arms over his
chest.
“Didn’t you give up that right when Bertha adopted
her?”
He is so much like his father. Tempest saw her son
protecting her with the same fierceness she’d seen in Maverick.
“Yes,” Mitchell said. “I made the biggest mistake of my
life when I listened to Carol. I just want a chance to get to know
you.”
Dakota glanced at her again. Tempest shrugged. She
wasn’t going to force anything on him. It was his decision.
Twenty-Five
The home phone rang.
“Excuse me,” Tempest said as she went to the kitchen to
answer. Leaning against a counter, she watched her son sit
warily in the chair she’d just vacated.
“Hello?”
“Good evening, mitawin.” Maverick’s voice wound
around her like a warm velvet blanket.
“James,” she replied, her belly flip-flopping at hearing
his tone.
“I miss you.”
She smiled. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” he purred. “After you tell me you miss
me.”
“Why would I say that?” Even if it is the truth…
He sighed. “Because I need to hear it.”
The pain in his voice was palpable. “I miss you, James.”
“Pilámaya ye, mitawin. Thank you for telling me.”
“It didn’t kill me,” she said lightly, determined not to
ask him what he insisted on calling her.
He chuckled. “What’s your question?”
“Did you tell the Whitehall’s to leave me alone?”
“Are they harassing you?” There was no longer any
warmth in his timbre.
Suppressing a shiver, Tempest peeked into the living
room where the tension was still just as thick. “Mitchell
showed up at my door tonight. He’s here now, talking with
Dakota.”
“Are you okay, baby?” he asked with intense concern.
“Surprisingly, yes. I’m doing okay. I was shocked, but
he doesn’t seem so scary anymore. Somewhere along the way,
he turned into a sick and frail old man.”
“I told them to leave you alone,” he grumbled in a deep
tone. “I warned them.”
She heard him take a drag of his cigarette. “You need to
stop smoking,” she said instinctively. “And I don’t need you to
protect me, James. No matter how sweet the gesture may be.”
“It’s my job to protect you,” he determined.
She changed the direction of the conversation. “Was
there a specific reason why you called?”
“I wanted to hear your voice. I want you beside me; but
since I can’t have that yet, hearing your voice is the next best
thing.” He hesitated a brief moment. “Unless you have a
webcam you’d like to tell me about.”
She laughed outright at that. “The only computer I have
is at work; and even if I did have one, I don’t think I’d spend
time in front of it for you.”
“Then come here to me so I can see you. Hold you.
Worship your body the way I long to every second of every
day.”
Oh damn, he was good. Her body thrummed with
passion. The lower portion grew moist at his words. “What do
you need?”
“You, mitawin. I need you, Tempest.”
Tears threatened as his words reached her. How could
this one man make her feel so important?
She cleared her throat. “I have to go, James. I think I
should be with Dak right now.”
He muttered something in Lakota. “Okay. Have a
wonderful night at work, baby. Stay safe.”
“Goodnight, James,” she whispered before hanging up
the phone.
Unsure of the emotions coursing through her, Tempest
got another mug for Dakota and went back to the living room.
Maverick swore a blue streak. It was after eleven at
night and he was so full of pent up energy it was unbelievable.
He was angry and longed to be with Tempest. Pure
astonishment at Mitchell Whitehall’s actions, despite his blatant
warning, coursed through him.
Every cell in his body screamed for him to protect and
defend Tempest. At her side was where he belonged, keeping
her safe.
“Not across the damn country from her,” he swore as he
lit another cigarette.
He began pacing. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Powerful strides took him from one end to the other and yet
took him nowhere. There was no way to get her out of his
system. He knew they were supposed to be together. Until those
words came from her mouth, he realized he would continue to
feel that way.
“Tempest!” Her name fell from his lips and he sank to
the couch. Never again would he laugh at a man who was all
tied up over a woman. He finally understood. Nothing else
held a candle to the emotions Ms. Tempest Independence
Burnell evoked from him.
Putting out his smoke, Maverick wondered what it
would be like if he’d known about her pregnancy. Would they
be a family? Happy?
He believed so.
Stretching out his legs, his gaze moved through his
apartment. He compared it to the warm coziness of her house.
His lacked.
He needed to get a house, a home for her. Could he offer
her something powerful enough to get her to move from her
son, her livelihood? Everything she felt safe around.
Would his love be enough? Would she trust his love was
genuine?
Maverick headed for bed. Her dappled gaze was with
him as he pulled the sheet up over his waist and closed his
eyes.
Those eyes were still there come morning.
He knew he looked rough as he walked into the briefing
room, but Maverick just sat down quietly and waited for the
meeting to begin. He ignored everything else, barely giving
more than a fleeting hello to his teammates.
Harrier walked in, met his gaze, and arched a brow
before he took his seat. Maverick glared sullenly at him, just
waiting for the comments to begin.
Not long, apparently.
Hondo started in on him first. “Problems sleeping,
Maverick? You look like something the cat puked up.”
He curled his lip in silent warning. It didn’t work.
“Problems with a certain woman?” Tyson asked.
His jaw clenched, but he remained silent, knowing full
well he deserved whatever they dished out. He looked over
each of the men for whom he’d die for in a heartbeat and saw
the glint off each of their wedding rings. Things had been so
different before they’d been attached. Lots of guys’
nights out.
One-night stands. Hookers. But none of them seemed to miss it.
Not at all. The amount of love they had for their women used
to amaze him; now, it was perfectly clear to him. Maverick felt
the same way about Tempest.
The men tossed rude comments back and forth across
the table while he did his best to ignore them all. Each remark
made it more difficult for him to remain mute, however.
“Well, he doesn’t have a grin on his face, so we know
she’s not here. What happened?” Dimitri teased, “Didn’t you
get a happy ending when you talked to her?”
His lip lifted.
Harrier grinned and held up a hand. “Let me stop this
before it gets ugly in here and I have to call Lex to patch
someone up.” He gestured to the file before him. “We have a
target.”
That one line grabbed everyone’s attention and the room
sobered in a heartbeat. All joking was put aside as the men
fully focused on leader of the Megalodon Team.
Later when the men left the briefing room to grab their
gear, Harrier stopped Maverick. “A minute, Lieutenant,” he
ordered.
Lieutenant? Harrier didn’t call him that often, so he
waited without question.
Leaning against the wall by the door, Harrier studied
him with his cornflower-blue eyes that were sharp and
assessing. “I need your game face here, Lieutenant.”
“I’m ready, Commander. I know I look like shit right
now; but by the time we land in Kyrgyzstan, there will no need
to worry. I won’t let you down again.”
Blue eyes narrowed. “You have never let me down.
Don’t think like that. I’m just worried at how much more
exhausted you appear lately.”
Maverick shook his head. “I did let you down. Because
of me, you almost died. Yes, I’m tired, but I’ll sleep on the
plane. I’m just unsure of where things stand with her.”
Harrier walked over to him. “You did not let anyone
down. Stop thinking that way. You saved me. You brought me
out of that mess so I could see my wife and kids again. No one
on this Team thinks you let me down.”
Maverick ran his tongue over his teeth. “Okay. But I
swear I’ll be ready. My mind is on the mission one hundred
percent.”
“You know there isn’t another man I’d want as our eyes
and covering our ass, don’t you?”
With a grin, Maverick nodded. “Gettin’ old on us,
Commander? Sounding a bit sentimental there.” He didn’t
want to feel soft. He liked the jabs, the sharp wit the men
shared. This wasn’t what he did well.
As if Harrier knew his train of thought, he grunted. “Not
too old to kick your sorry ass.”
“You and what army?” Maverick teased.
“Please, I’m not Army; I only need me to whup you.”
Laughing, the men left the room together for their
lockers to grab their gear. Maverick walked behind the men
while approaching the SUVs taking them to the plane. The
mood was still lighthearted but not as much as before.
Maverick sat beside Hondo as they took off in the vehicles.
Hondo leaned his head against the dark-tinted window and
closed his eyes, not saying a word, but his lips upturned
slightly.
“What’s’ so damn funny, Hondo?”
“I dinna say a word.” His tone never modulated.
“Man, I can hear your thoughts rattling around up in
that shaved head of yours. What gives?”
Hondo remained silent as they stopped and he got out
of the vehicle. Maverick was right on his heels as they boarded
the waiting plane.
As they taxied down the runway, he heard someone else
chuckle. He looked up and saw Osten smirking at him. It didn’t
take long for the Italian to say something to the men around
him. Whatever he said made both Dimitri and Ernst look back
at him with shit-eating grins as well.
“What?” he snapped, hating how he felt.
“Nothing,” Osten said with a big cheesy grin.
Tyson and Scott also turned to look at him. Maverick
sent them all a fierce glower. It only added to whatever the
men found so damn funny.
Bastards!
“Sucks, don’t it?” Hondo’s deep lilt reached him.
Maverick turned his head and stared over at his best
friend. He looked asleep, but Maverick knew better. Hondo
was nothing if not extremely astute.
“What sucks?” he asked, playing dumb, not entirely
sure he wanted the response.
The man barely moved. “Knowing you’re so in love
with a person and not a damn thing you can do about it.”
Maverick grunted. His friend was right on the money.
How did he stay so calm? He used to be the cool and collected
one. He glanced back to Aidrian “Hondo” O’Shea. The man
was in the exact same position; but this time, Maverick knew he
was sleeping. And he also knew he should be as well. Soon
after the plane reached cruising altitude, Maverick, too, fell into
what could possibly be the last good sleep for a while.
His rest was deep and peaceful. Tempest waited for him.
Beside her were Dakota and Shelia. And Tempest held a small
bundle wrapped in a pink blanket in her arms.
_
Tempest stood behind her bar, rag in hand, just staring
at the empty establishment. It was well past closing, but she
just remained there. She’d sent everyone else home, needing to
be alone for a while.
Her left hand wiped an endless circle and her right nails
tapped out a cadence on the teak top. Mitchell Whitehall was
still around and staying at her house, actually. She was still
amazed she’d offered. He’d been as well.
He helped out here and there. He primarily stayed
outside in her backyard where he took care of her plants. He
would spend hours out there, picking short weeds she hadn’t
even seen.
His skin looked darker and not so drawn. The bags
under his eyes were disappearing. She hated to say it, but he
appeared much better than when he’d first arrived.
The entire past week had been odd. Maverick hadn’t
called again, but Xaria had, so Tempest figured they were on
another mission.
With a sigh, she walked from behind the bar, sat down
at a table and groaned. Even Dakota had been acting extremely
odd. Something was bothering him, something serious, and he
wouldn’t tell her.
Not a sound came from the building aside from her
breathing. Resting her head on her arms, she allowed the
silence to flow over her. She was exhausted. The thought of
sleeping in the office skipped through her mind more than
once.
“I can’t,” she bemoaned. “I have a visitor.” Wearily, she
pushed away from the table and finished cleaning up.
Dakota had waited up for her and was in the kitchen
when she walked in the house.
“Hey, Dak,” she said, locking the door behind her.
“What are you doing up?”
“Waiting for you.” He placed a sandwich down and
pointed. “Eat.”
“Waiting, why?” Tempest asked, sitting and eating the
food. She was famished.
“I have to tell you something.”
Finally! The tone made her leery, but she was happy he
would share his concerns with her. She took another bite of
sandwich and waited for him to continue.
Dakota kept wiping his hands off on his shorts and he
stood before her worrying his lower lip. Tempest swallowed
and moved her plate to the side. There was a knot in the pit of
her belly. She knew what the news was. She knew.
Instead of waiting for him to say anything else, she
asked, “Are you two getting married?”
There were tears in her son’s eyes as he looked down at
her. He knelt beside her, and placed his head on her lap.
“I’m so sorry, Mama.”
Mama. He never calls me that. “Are you getting married?”
she asked again, her hands stroking the back of his head.
“I asked her. She wanted to think about it.” He sniffed.
“I love her so much; I don’t know what I’d do if she says no.”
Blinking back tears of her own, Tempest whispered, “Do
the right thing and be there for your child.”
“How did you know?” he questioned.
“I just did.” Tempest closed her eyes and prayed it
would all work out in the end.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to disappoint you, Mama.”
“You can’t ever disappoint me, Dakota Falcon. Not
ever.” She glanced up toward the entrance of the kitchen and
saw Mitchell standing there. Such sorrow on his face and she
knew he was remembering how he’d responded to her telling
him. He met her gaze briefly before slipping away silently,
leaving her and her son alone.
Tempest lost track of time. She merely allowed her son
to cry out his uncertainty. A small smile crossed her face as she
realized what she really wanted to do was to talk this through
with James.
She wanted to think of him as her partner, the one she
went to when she was confused, like now. She wanted to curl
up in his arms and cry over the fact her son, no their son, was
about to be a father. Hell, the fact she was about to be a
grandmother.
“Look, Dak. How is Shelia handling all this? Has she
told her family?”
“I don’t think so, Mom.” He pushed up and sat down in
a chair beside her.
I’m back to mom again. Guess he’s ready to grow up now.