“Hadn’t planned on leaving until this blew through. Midday is what they’re predicting before we’ll be able to fly to Watersmeet.”
“No need to kill yourself to get here any sooner. The bad guys will be riding this out, also. Just call when you get in. I’ll come get you.”
“Okay, Berto and I will bunk down at one of the airport hotels for what’s left of the night. We’ll fly into Watersmeet later today, count on it. A little snow never stopped me, although Berto is freaking.” A loud protest in vulgar Spanish came over the speaker. Risto snorted and noticed a slight smile on Callie’s lips. “And, Risto, be careful. I know you want to get Callie to your island fortress, but the lake will be bad.”
“Give me some effing credit, Redmond. If I can’t get her there safely, we’ll hole up at Big Earl’s at the landing. But … trust me on this, I’ve boated this lake in absolute white-outs and two-foot plus chop and made it every damn time.”
“Yeah, but you have more to lose this time than your ass.”
“I know it. Just take care of your asses. I’ll take care of Callie’s.”
Conn laughed. “Got it. Talk to you later today.”
Risto punched off the line then looked at Callie. No anxious hair-twisting, her hands lay relaxed in her lap. Her gaze took in the black-and-white landscape illuminated by the Jeep’s headlights. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’ve been in worse. Dad was stationed in Alaska one tour. Man, that was desolate. And I’ve been on lakes with rough water in a blizzard before.” She patted her tummy. “I’m feeling human now—but if I get sick on the boat ride, I can blame the baby and not the weather. I really am a better sailor than a flier. A helicopter in gusty winds would make me sicker than a choppy boat ride.”
“See if you can get the Weather Service report on the satellite radio, okay? I need both hands to keep us on the road. The cross winds are a bitch. We’re almost to the Osprey’s Point turn-off.”
“Okay.” She punched the car computer and located the controls for the radio. He noted she was very much at ease with current technology, which shouldn’t surprise him since she used computers to track dirty money. “There it is.”
The National Weather Radio announcer was reporting on conditions in the Great Lakes region and it was pretty much as he’d expected—a whole load of snow and winds hitting upwards of fifty miles per hour through at least midday with continuing chances for heavy snow, wind and low temps through the weekend.
Callie, showing no concern about the weather or his driving, had sat back. Her hands went to her stomach. He smiled. He’d often noted pregnant women covered their stomachs a lot—Keely Walsh-Maddox had—in all stages of pregnancy. He couldn’t begin to imagine what it felt like to have a life forming inside. Women were just fucking amazing, his woman most of all.
“You okay?”
She glanced at him curiously. “Yeah, why?”
“You’re holding your stomach.”
She looked down and shook her head. “I’ve been doing this ever since the doctor told me I was pregnant. Not sure why. Well, that’s not quite true, when I feel like coughing up my guts, it makes sense. But at other times like now, everything is good. Nervous gesture, maybe?” She smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes. “It makes me feel better, not so sure about the baby.”
“I think our baby will adore his mother petting him. And when we settle in for a nice sleep, I’ll be helping you comfort our child.”
“How long have you been up?” A crease between her brows showed her concern. God, he’d missed her during the time they’d been apart, no one had ever cared about how he felt before.
He hurried to reassure her he was well-rested and alert. “I’m fine. I slept on the plane from Bogotá to New York and then had another nap between New York and Marquette. I’m good to go. I’ll get us safely to the island.”
“I’m not worried about that.” She paused, and he shot her a quick glance. Her color was high.
“Then what are you worried about?” He lifted a hand from the wheel and touched her cheek with a finger. “You’re flushed. Don’t be embarrassed, baby. If you need to stop, if you’re sick…”
“No, it isn’t that … uh, I want you to make love to me. I’ve … I’ve dreamt of you every night. God, Risto, I ache with wanting you. I need you in me, making me yours. Especially now.”
His dick turned steel hard at the desire in her voice. “I want you, too, but the baby … are you sure? Sweetheart, you’ve been sick, stressed … I don’t want to hurt you.” God, the way he felt right now, he’d be too rough. He’d hurt her. He’d cut off his own dick before he did that.
“Risto Smith, I’m pregnant, not dead.” She gripped his thigh and squeezed. “I expect to have lots and lots of balls-to-the-wall sex before I deliver our child. So get used to the idea. I know when I get as big as a hippo, you might not want…”
“Shh, Callie,” he pulled the hand petting him to his mouth and kissed the tips of her fingers before placing her hand on the hard-on threatening to burst through his jeans, “you could be as big as an elephant, and I’d want to make love to you. It’s just I don’t want to hurt the baby.”
“I asked the doctor—in case you came after me—and she said I was good to go for sex. Might have to change positions as my stomach gets bigger, but anything else is fine. And I know for a fact Keely had lots of sex right up until she had her baby because she told me so. And she’s a dainty fairy-like girl compared to me.”
Risto nodded. He recalled many a time at Sanctuary when Ren and Keely excused themselves after dinner to go to their house. The following mornings at breakfast Ren had appeared extremely satisfied. “When we get home, you want sex—you get sex.”
“I think this first time after being apart, it will be love-making, a seal on our commitment.” Callie hesitated. “Well, at least it will be for me.”
Jesus, she thinks it’s just sex for me?
“Callie, when I have sex with you, it’s always love-making. Always. From the first time, I knew it was different than what I’d experienced with other women. I may have been a stubborn, thick-headed, dumb fuck as Conn named me, but never doubt that I knew you were the only woman for me. I love you, Calista Jean Meyers.”
When she didn’t respond, he turned his head. She was smiling and crying, a hand massaging her tummy and her other hand fisted on his thigh. “Why are you crying?”
“Because I’m happy.” She unfisted her hand and stroked his thigh. The ring he gave her sending off flashes of light. “I love you, Marine.” She sniffed and laughed.
“Is there a manual on this pregnancy shit a father-to-be can read so I don’t fuck up or say something to hurt you or the baby?” He was one guy who always read the instructions.
“The doctor gave me a book.” She patted her bottomless tote bag with her free hand. “I’ll give it to you once we get home.”
Home. She’d said home. A warm glow of contentment permeated his body. She loved him. She desired him. She accepted his protection and the home he could provide for her and the baby. What more could a man want? Nothing but the elimination of all danger to her. And with any luck, that would happen sooner, rather than later.
He slowed down and took the narrow county road, cleared much better than the state highway had been, to Osprey’s Point. Luck on their side and the weather calming down long enough, he’d have Callie home within the next hour or so.
* * * *
Callie stepped into Big Earl’s, the small grocery slash diner slash marina office which comprised the largest commercial building in the tiny municipality of Osprey’s Point. There were several other small businesses, all closed this time of the morning, or maybe for the season. Early winter in the U.P. wasn’t mild. She imagined the busiest time of the year would be high summer, July and August, when people came to the Cisco Chain of Lakes region for weekend vacations and breaks from the heat of the cities. Through the swirling clouds of snow, she’d caught glimpses of a lot of darkened cottage
s and mini-mansions along the lake shore and the single road into town.
“May I help you?” A grizzled giant, taller and far broader than Risto, stepped from the diner area into the small grocery. He carried himself like a soldier. “You have car trouble or something?”
“No. Risto Smith dropped me off. He’s parking in his spot.”
“You a lady friend of Risto?” He looked her up, then down. She saw recognition in his eyes. He smiled. “I know you. You’re that model on the swimsuit issues.” He stepped forward and offered his hand. “I’m Earl. My friends call me Big Earl.”
She took his hand and noted how gingerly he treated her much smaller one. She smiled. “You consider Risto a friend?”
“Yes, ma’am. We went to school together from third grade through high school graduation. Since he lived here year round, we became buddies.”
“Then I’m Callie, and I’ll call you Big Earl.”
“Good enough. You need a cup of coffee or something?” He pulled her into the diner and seated her at the counter.
“Hot chocolate would be great if you have it.” She took off her gloves and shoved them into the pocket of her woven wool coat with its sheepskin lining. Again, she mentally thanked whoever watched over her that she’d worn her warmest coat and boots to the appointment yesterday. She shrugged out of the heavy coat and laid it over an empty stool next to her. Her tote she hooked on the purse hanger under the counter.
“Here ya go.” He placed a steaming mug with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles on top in front of her, then glanced at her left hand. He touched the engagement ring lightly with a finger the size of a cigar. “Ahh, you’re Risto’s for sure with this ring. Just so you know, you are the first and only woman I’ve ever seen him bring here. Ever. Honest Injun.” He held up his hand in a parody of every television Indian she’d ever seen.
“You Native American, Big Earl?” She was pretty sure, like Risto he had some in him. His darker skin looked natural and not a tan. He had dark eyes and hair. The facial hair came from the other part of his heritage, she was sure.
“Yeah, with some good Swedish thrown in to boot.” He wiped the sparkling clean counter with a cloth. “Here’s your man. Risto,” he yelled, “your lady’s in here, drinking some of my fine Belgian hot chocolate.”
Risto came up behind her and kissed her cheek, then sat next to her, shrugging off his coat and placing it over hers. “Hot chocolate sounds good. You want some breakfast, sweetheart? I’ve got the boat engine warming up. I want to give it another half hour. It’s damn cold out there.”
She touched her stomach and thought about how she felt. “How much chop will we be experiencing?”
“Winds are dying down. Maybe a foot to a foot and a half. My island’s only ten minutes from the dock.” He turned to Big Earl. “What do you think?”
Big Earl stared at the hand on her abdomen and a knowing smile curved his lips. “You should be fine. You a good sailor, Callie?”
“Normally, yes.” Her stomach growled, and the two men laughed. “Oatmeal sounds good if you have it. Nothing greasy or smelly for now.”
Big Earl looked from her to Risto and back. “Oatmeal for the lady. What about you, you lucky dog?”
“I’ll eat oatmeal also and a nine-grain bagel with cream cheese.”
“That sounds good, can I have a bite of your bagel?” She turned to Risto who put an arm around her and pulled her to him then kissed her.
He spoke against her lips. “You can have a bite of anything of mine.”
Big Earl threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing around the small diner. “Behave yourself, old buddy. This is a decent family place.”
“Shut the fuck up, Big Earl. You’ve never been decent a day in your life.” He stroked Callie’s face. “We’ll need to keep an eye on my old friend and make sure he doesn’t put poison in my oatmeal. The man would try to steal you from me in an instant.”
Big Earl chuckled as he began to make the oatmeal from scratch. Callie had expected instant. Her taste buds salivated, she loved real oatmeal. “Callie, if you ever want a real man, you come to me.”
Risto snarled, “Fuck you, Earl.”
“You’ll need to clean up your language with a lady in your life.” Big Earl winked at Callie then said, “Old Annie was at your place two days ago, getting things ready for your arrival. She stocked up on dry goods and stuff for your freezer. Told me to tell you that you only needed fresh fruit and vegetables and maybe some milk.”
“Got it.” Risto smoothed a hand down her back. “You drink milk?”
“Not usually, but the doctor said it would be good for me and the baby. Skim milk or two percent would be fine. I don’t usually do well with milk.” She patted her tummy again and Risto’s hand covered hers. His possessive yet gentle touch made her vaginal muscles clench and her clit throb. She noted the bulge behind his jeans and smiled. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
“You have any skim milk, Earl?” Risto asked.
“Yeah, blue label. Freshest at the back. Try some cottage cheese, Callie. Just as much calcium and something about the processing lessens the side effects from lactose intolerance.” At Risto’s raised eyebrow, Earl added, “My sister had the same problems with milk so she figured out alternatives when she was pregnant.” He shot Callie a grin. “You got a good multi-vitamin?”
God save her, another over-protective alpha male. Maybe going to Sanctuary until after the baby came was a good idea. At least she’d have Keely on her side. “Yeah, the doctor recommended one. I bought some in Chicago. I guess you figured out I’m pregnant.”
“Sort of added it all up. Congratulations to you both. When’s the newest little Smith hellion due?”
Risto snarled. Callie giggled and answered, “About seven months—so middle of June.”
“June’s a fine month around here.” He placed a bagel and cream cheese on the counter between their place settings. “Go get the groceries, Risto. I won’t steal your lady. Oatmeal will be ready in about four more minutes.”
“We won’t be here in June, Earl. I’m hiding Callie away at my place in Sanctuary until after the baby is born—for her safety.”
“Danger?” Big Earl shot him a questioning glance.
Risto exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. He looked tired and angry all of a sudden. “There’s a really bad-ass fucker stalking Callie.”
“Why is this fucker still alive?” Big Earl slapped a hand on the counter, his pleasant face turning ugly. Even with his gaze on Risto, Callie could tell Big Earl was searching for potential danger around them. He was like Risto and every other superbly trained soldier she’d ever met. She’d bet her new engagement ring he was ex-Special Forces.
“He’s alive because I had to get Callie out of Colombia—and he was hiding when I went back for him.” Callie gasped. No one had told her the SSI missions Risto was on were about getting Cruz. She would’ve been catatonic with worry if she’d known. “He’s a Colombian paramilitary leader and muscle for a drug cartel centered in and around Cartagena. Well, he was. Messing with Callie got him ejected by Paco, the head of the cartel.”
“Fucking Jaime fucking Cruz is after your woman?” Big Earl braced his hands on the counter. “How in the fucking hell did a sweet woman like Callie get on that fucking bastard’s radar?” He looked at her. “Excuse my language.”
She waved it off. “Marine brat here. And the asswipe saw me, decided he wanted me, and bribed my agent into getting me to Cartagena for a modeling job. When I arrived, he told me he was keeping me—if I didn’t cooperate, he’d kill my younger twin brothers.”
Big Earl turned away and muttered something vile sounding under his breath, then turned back. “So, SSI sent Risto in to get you.” It was a statement not a question which told her Big Earl knew all about what SSI was and what Risto did for them.
“Yeah. I spent most of my formative years at Camp Lejeune and grew up alongside the Walsh kids, so I turned to Keely’s
husband when I knew I was in trouble over my head.”
“I’ve met most of the male Walshes. Good men.” Big Earl smiled. “Know Ren Maddox also. He just sent me a picture of him and Keely and little Riley.” He walked over to a small desk area, picked up a framed picture and brought it over. “Damn fine looking family. I expect a similar photo from you two.” He set the picture on the counter and turned back to his oatmeal.
Risto picked up the picture so they could examine it together. “Damn, they look happy. Just think, that’ll be us by the end of next summer.”
“Yeah. I’ve held Riley. I fell in love with him. He smiled at me and cooed. God, I want to hold my baby now.”
He kissed her. “It’ll happen. We’ll hold him together. What were you doing in Sanctuary? I must’ve been out of the country when you were there. I thought Keely told me you were doing your work from Chicago?”
“I was. I was also in Idaho for a week—maybe while you were chasing Cruz?” She poked him in the ribs. “No one told me. Why did you…”
“Shh, Ren sent me. Cruz needed to be taken down. But Paco had already scared him off by the time I got back to Cartagena. We have a good idea of where he went and that would’ve been my next mission. But he’s here and will come to us. We can take him out on our turf.”
She nodded. “Home field advantage works for me. Plus, he and his men aren’t used to the snow and cold. We’ll have Mother Nature on our side.”
“You,” he tapped her nose, “will be safely locked away on my island. And we men will be taking care of Cruz and his thugs. Now, what were you doing at Sanctuary?”
If he thought he would tuck her safely away when she could help, he had another think coming. “I was training on their software systems before I began my search for the hidden accounts. Keely’s program is far superior to what I used in college. Also, Ren wanted me to pass his weapons certification so I could get a license to carry concealed in Idaho for when I’m there. I already had a license in Illinois and Chicago, but that wasn’t good enough. Keely just laughed at him when he said he wanted to see how out of practice I was.”
Cold Day In Hell Page 25