by Lilly Holden
“I’m fine with the just-washed look I get from my soap, thanks” I chuckled at his answering grin and started stripping off my training gear. My hair was still military short, but my trimmed beard was a new addition. The guys had teased me about becoming a hipster. At least they had teased me until I put Ryder Nolan on his ass.
That moment a tall, blond man joined us in the locker room.
Speak of the devil.
Ryder dropped his pack on the ground in front of his locker. Lance Marshall, our employer and Former SEAL Team Leader, and Jake Carter followed behind him.
“I can’t believe we’re still doing this shit two years after leaving the SEALs.” Ryder sat on the bench opposite me. “And since our investments are paying so well, we don’t even need these jobs, for fuck’s sake.”
“You need to work out to keep that low percentage body fat you’re so proud of.” Lance grinned at Ryder. “Isn’t that part of your arsenal for impressing the ladies, Hollywood?”
I chuckled as Ryder gave Lance the middle finger at the use of our nickname for him. Blond, well-built, handsome and with buckets of charm, the man had women falling for him at every turn.
“By the way, I fielded a call for you from some girl called Kimberley this morning.” Jake Carter shot Ryder an impatient look. “Rang on the main switch and was put through to our communications room.” Jake’s frown showed his displeasure at the breakdown in protocol from Marshall Securities’ admin team. No distracting calls from women trying to hook up with one of the guys were permitted when we were working in the coms room. “She wants you to know she’s totally into you.” Jake’s dark brown eyes went wide as he batted his eyelashes dramatically at Ryder—a sight to see since the guy was as tough as they came. “And she hopes you’ll be at some nightclub tomorrow night because it will be so super cool if you made it there.”
Lance Marshall rolled his eyes. At forty, with short brown hair and the hard, lean physique of a man ten years younger, he was not only our boss, but like a big brother to us all. One that kicked our butts on the exercise matts with devastating precision on a regular basis.
“Do we even want to know how you met this one?” I asked in a bemused tone.
Ryder sighed and tossed one boot on the ground before unlacing the other. “It must be hard for the rest of you, lonely and unloved, while I, with my wit and good looks, grab all the attention.”
Jake raised a brow before he removed his sweat-stained t-shirt. “I’m not alone, remember?”
Ryder huffed a laugh as he grabbed his shaving kit. “Yeah, you were lucky that a sweetheart like Charlotte fell for you. Of course, you had to practically kidnap the poor woman first, but hey, needs must...”
I remembered that particular mission well. Already two months had passed since then, and Jake had put a ring on Charlotte’s finger to make his claim on her legal. Ryder was correct. Charlotte was indeed a sweetheart and Jake a lucky man.
Far from offended, Jake laughed as he grabbed his towel and headed for the showers.
“It’s a testament to my idea of loyalty that I put up with you bunch of bastards,” Ryder groused as he, too, headed to the showers.
“It’s a good thing he’s one of the best at his job or I’d have saved myself a load of angst and snapped his neck long ago.” Lance flicked his blue-eyed gaze my way. “Now, what about you?”
“You want to snap my neck?” I asked in a wry tone.
“Not today.” Lance sat on the bench opposite and balanced his elbows on his knees as he regarded me. “I got a message you needed to ask me something?”
I nodded. “I need some personal time. Got to head back to Ohio.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I’ve been renting out my old man’s house these past two and half years. Seems like a good time now to sell. There’s a few repairs I want to handle and paperwork I need to sign in person.”
And maybe a ghost or two to bury. Metaphorically speaking.
I’d heard through the real-estate agent who looked after the old man’s house that Emily and Doug Hawkins had sold their house and moved to Florida, escaping the bitterly cold winters in Rushville in their retirement. Not that I’d had any contact with Emily herself since my last visit back home. Sleeping with her daughter was likely a bridge too far for Emily.
A decision I understood.
With their parents’ house sold, I wouldn’t likely bump into Rob or Sophie for the couple of weeks I was there.
“No problem, Deke.” Lance nodded. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
“Couple of weeks.” The repairs needed weren’t major, but I didn’t want to underestimate the time I’d need. Good thing was, with it being summer, the weather wouldn’t hold me back. “I’d like to head out in the next week if possible.”
“Done.” Lance rose and headed to his locker. “If you need anything, call. I’m happy to give Ryder some time off to go help.” He gave a dry laugh. “In fact, I may offer to pay him to go if that guaranteed we’d get a week free of calls from girls like Kimberley.”
Lord help me. “The female population of Rushville, Ohio, would never recover from such an incursion.”
As Lance chuckled, I snatched up my towel and headed to the showers. My trip back to Rushville would be complicated enough without adding Ryder and his movie-star power with the ladies to the mix.
I was grateful Sophie’s parents had sold their house. I loved Ryder like a brother, but the mere idea of Sophie meeting him had me thinking of all the ways I could kill my friend.
CHAPTER FIVE
Deke
The summer sun beat down on my bare back as I tossed the last of the rotten timber into the wheelbarrow. With a deep sense of satisfaction, I studied the now bare area beside the shed in my backyard.
My backyard. Not my old man’s.
This was my home I was selling. Had been my home for two years. I needed to remind myself Boyd Williams had been dead and buried a while now.
I’d arrived here from Denver after driving my Dodge truck for twenty hours, the trip broken up with an overnight stay in a motel along the way. Since then, I’d thrown myself into making a list of what needed to be repaired or spruced up.
The property manager had made sure the tenants kept the yard in good shape. That left me with clearing up items that had been left here from the time before Boyd’s death.
Standing under the shade of an old elm tree, I studied the outside wooden exterior of the two-story house. Now looking slightly worn in an old coat of faded yellow paint, it was due for a new coat of paint, and I’d booked a crew to start in two days. The colors I’d chosen were light gray with a white trim, and a bright glossy yellow for the front door. Actually the colors had fancy names like Lemoncello Devine, but yellow did it for me.
I’d played with the idea of whether to bother repainting, but the real estate agent had advised it would add three times the cost of getting the job done to sale price of the property, so I decided to go ahead with the job.
Grabbing the handles of the barrow, I steered my load down the side passage to the hired dumpster taking up space in my front yard and began emptying out the load of timber. I’d paid a property manager to empty the house after Boyd’s death. The woman had organized and boxed up any personal papers, and I’d received them soon after. Everything else from my childhood home had been either donated to Goodwill or tossed. As far as I could tell, Boyd had thrown out anything that had been mine years ago, likely just after I’d left to join the Navy. The dumpster I’d hired for this job was being used purely for building material.
The fact that there was not a trace of who I was from before I was eighteen hadn’t surprised me. That’s the kind of person my old man was. Spiteful. Mean. But it did remind me that memories were precious. Sometimes that’s all we had left.
The sound of a car door closing directly across the street had me looking toward the Hawkins old house.
I froze.
A woman with lo
ng brown hair was talking on the phone as she retrieved a small box from the trunk of a blue sedan. She was smiling, and her laugh was carried on the summer breeze.
Sophie.
But her parents had sold the house. The real estate agent had even told me the price. What was Sophie doing here?
I stood there, staring, taking in every second I could of the woman I’d tried—and failed—to remove from my life. If it were possible, she looked more beautiful than before. Her curves were fuller, and in the sunshine, she had a glow about her, a spark that was emphasized by the backdrop of fresh blooms surrounding her in what used to be her mother’s garden, but still obviously well-tended by the new owner.
I couldn’t look away from her. Hell, I should have been cursing and making a retreat, but I gave myself this one moment to drink in her beauty.
Ending her phone call, she slipped her cell in her back pocket and closed the trunk. A burst of breeze whipped her hair around her face. Turning to push her hair away, she caught sight of me.
Her stunned expression mirrored my shock from moments ago.
There was no way I could walk back inside the house like nothing had happened. In all honesty, I didn’t want to. Sure, I had questions as to why she was here, but Sophie was there, and I was a selfish enough bastard to take a chance for a few moments with her.
My t-shirt was hanging on a tree limb in the backyard, so I’d just have to walk across to her wearing my jeans and boots.
Drawing closer, I watched her chest rise and fall as she took what I guessed were a few steady breaths. The look of shock in her gaze gave way to something akin to…panic? A heavy feeling lodged in my chest. Panic wasn’t something I ever expected from Sophie. I stopped six feet from the white picket fence, not wanting to crowd her. Was seeing me that intimidating a prospect?
“Sophie.” I deliberately used my name for her, a way of reminding her I wasn’t a physical threat.
“Deke.” She looked over my shoulder toward the house and then back to me. “You’re moving in?”
I didn’t miss the tone of regret in her voice.
Our little reunion had fuck-up written all over it.
“No, getting the place ready to sell.”
Her sigh could only be described as one of relief. “How long are you planning on staying?”
I guess she wanted me out of here as soon as possible. I stomped down my irritation. After all, I’m the bastard who broke her heart. What else could I expect?
“A couple of weeks at most.” But that didn’t explain why she was here. Glancing at the two-story house with its white gingerbread trim and blue painted exterior I had a question of my own.
“I was told your parents had sold their house and moved to Florida.”
“They did. Nearly a year ago. I bought the house.”
“I remember how much you loved the place.” Playing dolls on the stairs as a tiny kid, making a cubby in the attic and then joining Rob, Andy and me in the tree house her dad built in the huge oak in the backyard. The house had always been a place of wonder and happiness for Sophie. “I’m happy for you that you’re making it your home now.”
Her gaze softened, if only for a few seconds. “Thank you, Deke.” Her voice sounded husky, and for a couple of seconds, it was as if the pain and distance since our last parting had melted away.
But the next instant, she blinked, and the emotional wall between us was back in place.
She cast a glance over her shoulder at the house, then turned quickly back to me. “Look, I’m sorry. But I have to get back inside. ” She backed away. “I’ve got something on the stove. Good luck with selling the house.”
I stood there as she turned and practically ran into the house.
As I walked back to my house, I reminded myself I deserved probably far worse from her than the reserved greeting I’d received.
Sophie was making a life for herself in a home she loved. The best I could do for her was stay away and let her continue doing so in peace.
CHAPTER SIX
Sophie
I shoved the front door closed behind me and managed to get to the stairs and sit before my legs gave way beneath me. Sweat trickled down my back, despite the fact I hadn’t performed any feats of endurance.
Clasping my shaking hands, I battled to gather myself.
Deke was here.
In Rushville.
Living right across the street from my house and the most precious thing in my life.
I closed my eyes and dragged in a shaky breath.
It would be okay. I just needed…what? An imaginary disappearing machine to keep us hidden?
The part I didn’t understand was Deke not mentioning mine or Rob’s messages, the ones we’d left for him at that security firm he worked for ages ago when I discovered my world had turned upside down.
He acted as if we’d never tried to get in touch.
At the time, I’d taken him not returning our messages as my cue to go on and live my life without him having any presence. I’d been shocked by his behavior, but he’d made his decision.
I guess his silence today was his way of making that fact abundantly clear.
That didn’t mean I’d allow myself or those I loved to be vulnerable around him.
Or to any other potential danger that lurked, be it out in the open or hidden in the shadows.
My mind went to the phone call I received late last night.
That voice. I guessed a male’s but electronically disguised like they do whistle-blowers on TV. “You’ll be mine in the end, Sophie. You can’t ignore me forever.”
I’d hung up on the caller and phoned Rob. Ten minutes later Andy had come over and taken a police report. He’d ended his visit with a hug and a promise he’d do what he could, plus organize a unit to drive by when in the area. If anyone was watching the house, they’d see the police presence and maybe think twice before calling again. It wasn’t much, but at least I felt I’d taken some action. With Rob and Andy both in the know, I felt less helpless.
But in the end, I was responsible for my safety and the safety of those I cared for.
I would protect what was mine.
Gripping the stair rail, I stood, pleased that my legs no longer wobbled and headed into the living room.
“Mommy come. Mommy come.” Noah pointed at me as he gripped the sides of his enclosed play area with his free hand. Big for his age at twenty-one months, with thick, light brown hair, he was dressed in red shorts and a cute t-shirt with a blue train stitched on the front. A huge grin appeared on his sweet face as I bent to pick him up.
“I’m happy to see you, too, sweetie.” I buried my face close to him, inhaling the scent of a freshly bathed kiddo—lavender bath wash and baby powder—and kissed his head. I looked down at the small orange bear—Gordon—he’d been given as a gift from Rob and his wife Janie the day he was born.
Rob’s five-year-old daughter, Mindy, had come up with the name and it had stuck. Noah adored Gordon and didn’t go anywhere without his teddy.
“Were you playing with Gordon?”
“Gordie tired.” Noah shook his head either in sadness or a measure of disgust I wasn’t sure. His sigh was heartfelt and I had to chuckle. Hearing me laugh was like a green light for Noah, who burst into a fit of giggles.
I stood there, holding my son, thanking God for the blessing he’d bestowed upon me with this little boy.
Noah looked up at me, his eyes bright and full of joy.
Eyes the same gray as his fathers.
Looking out beyond the sheer curtains and blinds of the living room window, I watched Deke load lengths of wood into the dumpster parked on his front lawn.
Tall, possibly looking even bulkier than when I’d last seen him, he now had a beard that gave him a look of a hard-ass woodsman, someone you wouldn’t want to mess with, be it on a mountain or walking down a city street.
Gathering my son closer to me so his face was pressed into my neck, I reminded myself of the vow I’d
made just before entering this room.
I would protect what was mine.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Deke
How the hell did I manage to run out of coffee in less than a week? Tossing the empty can in the trash, I absently scratched at my beard and cursed at myself for not having done any grocery shopping last night.
I wasn’t a coffee snob—being on missions all over the world meant I was often grateful for whatever I could drink at the time—but I’d been working some serious hours getting the majority of the jobs done around the house, and a hit of caffeine first thing in the morning didn’t go unappreciated.
Grabbing the keys to my truck, I headed out of the house. I’d reached the bottom of the porch steps when my eyes caught the morning sun glinting off something at the base of Sophie’s front door.
In the military you learn quickly an object that glinted in the sunlight could take your life.
Looking around, I saw nobody outside of any houses or in any cars parked along the curb.
Deciding to check it out further, I crossed the road and stood at her front gate, getting a full view of what first stole my attention.
A rat, with a large kitchen knife stabbed through its belly, lay on Sophie’s front door mat.
My blood chilled.
This was a clear threat. A sign left by someone wanting to cause harm.
Like anyone in my line of business, I had a concealed carry permit. My Sig Sauer was in an ankle holster on my right leg.
I grabbed my weapon and approached the side of the house, checking to make sure nobody was hiding to see her reaction to their handwork. Low hedgerows camouflaged the fence line between her and her neighbors, but I saw no sign of anyone. I turned to head back around the front when I heard Sophie’s voice through an open side window.
“Listen you creep, I told you last time I don’t want you contacting me again. I’ve already reported your calls to the police. They’ll be able to trace your call, and your ass will end up in jail.”