Jameson (In the Company of Snipers Book 22)

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Jameson (In the Company of Snipers Book 22) Page 8

by Irish Winters


  “The blind develop senses they never knew they had, Maddie. Like I can hear your blood hammering in your veins, and I know your heart’s racing. I know when you’re looking at me, and I’m pretty sure I can guess what you’re thinking.”

  “Ah, err, umm… I’m thinking that shirt will fit you per-per-perfectly.”

  “And you’re purring.”

  “I’m married,” she blurted.

  His head canted to the other side. “Married? That’s too bad,” he said quietly, yet so quickly she was sure he knew she’d lied.

  In seconds, he dragged that TEAM shirt over his shoulders and the peep show was over.

  So was Maddie.

  Fanning her overheated cheeks, she turned to the door, her body jacked up on hormones and every last one of her lost dreams. Here was a man worth living for.

  If only she could.

  Chapter Five

  “He’s not who you think he is, sweetheart,” Alex told Kelsey again. “The only reason Mel’s here today is because he wants something. You saw how quickly he asked about that whisky. Bastard forgot all about you and Bradley the second he thought he could get some booze.”

  Bradley had just nursed and was sound asleep in the bassinet at Kelsey’s bedside. For now, she and Alex were seated at the window bench overlooking the Potomac. It was late afternoon. She should be sleeping, but she wanted to talk.

  “I get that. He’s got problems. I just hate letting him leave without doing something for him. He looked so—”

  “Conniving?”

  “He is that, yes. He’s not fooling me.” Kelsey leaned toward Alex, resting her elbows on her thighs as she clasped her hands together. “But I can’t help thinking that he’s sad, too. Maybe he’s had a change of heart. We might never see him again. Don’t you think everyone deserves a second chance?”

  “Not after what he did to Mom, Gramps, and Gram.” Alex didn’t dare tell her what a blessing never seeing Mel again would mean to him. Saying that would make him sound cold, which he was where Mel was concerned. But he couldn’t hurt Kelsey’s feelings. So he kept his mouth shut.

  “And you,” she added softly. “Mel hurt you, too. That’s why you’ve never talked about your past much. I haven’t been exactly forthcoming, either. Maybe it’s time we were honest with ourselves and each other about those old ghosts. I’ll start by telling you about my Uncle Rafe.”

  Alex’s chest heaved with a full intake of air. Mel had spoiled a day that should’ve been only about Bradley, and now Kelsey was defending him. “I don’t want to do this. Not today.”

  “Then just listen. Please, sweetheart. I need to get this out in the open. I’ve wanted to talk with you about it for years, just never knew how to start.”

  Alex licked the corner of his mouth, resigned, willing to do anything for his wife. “Okay. I’m listening.”

  She’d slipped into the plush royal-blue robe he’d brought from home. Her chocolate brown hair lay soft and shiny on her shoulders. She’d had it trimmed into a blunt cut that bounced more, and that bounce somehow made her look younger. Kelsey had the purest brown eyes of any person he’d ever known. Her cheeks were a healthy, glowing pink, and he couldn’t wait for the day she’d be able to make love with him again.

  She was his wellspring, his chapel, and the goddess in that chapel, his one true light and the only one on earth he adored. With her at his side, he’d finally reconnected with the God he’d cursed for so many years after he’d lost Sara and Abby. But that was what hard men did. They fought what they didn’t understand until, somehow, that same God sent the miracle they needed to heal. Despite her own overwhelming tragedy, Kelsey had taught him how to live again.

  He’d also believed in her when she hadn’t believed in herself. He’d taken her into his home, provided for her, protected her, and taught Kelsey how to protect herself. How to believe in herself. Eventually, the broken woman she’d been at their first meeting had healed from the double tragedy of losing her two sons. She’d gone back to her church. She’d prayed and grown strong. Yet, it was her simple way of recovering that had eventually saved him from himself. To this day, whenever she mentioned how thankful she was that he’d saved her, he had to smile. He knew better. She was the one who’d done the saving that day at his cabin.

  Her lips pursed as she drew in a fortifying breath. “There’s a reason Louise never wanted children. I suspect you’ve already guessed why. But honestly, Alex, I didn’t think she’d ever marry after what she went through. But then she met Phillip Timson, and everything changed. He’s good for her, and he adores her. She’s happier now than she’s ever been, even living on that farm in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Pendleton, Oregon, isn’t exactly nowhere.”

  “Right, but it’s very different from Portland, where we spent most of our childhoods.” Her gaze strayed to the wall over his head.

  “It’s okay if you’d rather not tell me,” he told her. “I’ve waited this long, what’s another lifetime?”

  Her lips furled into a small, sad smile. “My parents were missionaries, Alex. They believed they’d been called to save the world. Called to higher, grander work than just raising their two daughters.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t think they ever really wanted us. The last time I saw them, I was eleven. Louise was thirteen, a teenager. We were at the airport waving goodbye.”

  Alex held his breath. He’d long ago surmised that Kelsey and her sister had suffered incest or abuse as children. Didn’t make hearing those suspicions were true any easier.

  “They were on their way into Egypt that morning. As usual, they left us in the care of my mother’s sister’s husband, our Uncle Rafe.” She rubbed her biceps as if the thought made her flesh crawl. “He came to live with our family after his wife, my Aunt Willa, died. Mom felt bad for him. Said it was our Christian duty to help the homeless and downtrodden, the broken-hearted. Stuff like that.”

  Alex reached for Kelsey’s hand. By then, they were face to face, both leaning into each other. The sun filtering through the blinds at her right cast Kelsey in gentle golden hues. Alex was feeling golden too, but his was more the molten variety than the glowing kind. Knowing what was coming stoked the deepest furnace of his soul. Yet he controlled the bellows that breathed life into the wicked fire in his gut. This was her story. Her history. And there was nothing he could do to right the wrongs done to two unprotected little girls all those years ago.

  But God, he hated pedophiles.

  Kelsey blew out a quivering breath. “In Cairo, they boarded a smaller plane that was supposed to take them up the Nile River. But it crashed, and, umm, there were no survivors. Mom and Dad came home two weeks later in wooden boxes. Rafe held a very nice joint funeral service, but I honestly don’t remember much about that day or where they were buried. I do remember a million chrysanthemums, all different colors, though. Wreaths. Vases full of them. So, so many mums…” She ran her fingers into her hair, combing it back over her shoulder as her eyes glistened. “Mom and Dad were always going somewhere else, Alex. They had a mission, other children to save, other little girls to serve and convert and—”

  Ever so gently, he bumped his forehead into hers. “You had no one.”

  “I had Louise,” she declared firmly. “But even that changed once they died and Rafe was stuck with us. I didn’t know then, but I realized later, after I’d finished college and was teaching, that they’d left everything they owned to him in the event of their untimely deaths. I guess he thought that made us girls his, too. Like chattel.” Her lips pursed into a tight O. “Anyway, yes, Alex. He molested Louise. He’d creep into her room at night and tell her he’d kill me if she didn’t, umm, let him. But the day after she turned seventeen, she went crazy. Scared me to death when she started screaming and crying and yelling that she couldn’t take it anymore. She packed a stupid plastic grocery bag, Alex, and she ran away. Just like that. She left me.”

  He waited, his chest hurting f
or the frightened little girl Kelsey had been then.

  “I didn’t reconnect with her until after I’d graduated college and was teaching kindergarten. Someone knocked on my apartment door one day after I’d come home from school, and there Louise was. Alive and happy. Crying and telling me how sorry she was that she’d deserted me. She stayed a month with me that time, even introduced me to Phil. Also told me everything Rafe had done to her after our parents died.”

  “Did he touch you?” Alex asked gently. He damned well needed to know.

  Kelsey shook her head, silky dark strands shimmering with that same golden glow. “No. I think he was afraid Louise would go to the police. From then on, he made sure I did my homework and went to college. But I was the mouse in the family; Louise was always the lioness. She used to argue with Rafe, even bossed him around at first. You know how she can be. But when she went silent, I knew something was really, really wrong. She wouldn’t talk to me, and I was such a backward kid, I had no way to know what was happening after I went to bed. God…” Kelsey’s cheeks puffed with a long shuddering sigh. “I don’t hate many people, Alex. Hate is such an ugly emotion to let into your soul. It steals the life and light out of you. But I hate Rafe. Louise hasn’t ever been the same bright, vivacious pain in the ass she used to be. If you think she talks a lot now, you should’ve known her before. I swear Louise could’ve talked the paint off Phil’s big red cattle barn.”

  “You were fifteen when she left.”

  Lifting her chin, Kelsey looked Alex square in the eye. “Yes, but Rafe always said I was the dumber sister, which worked out pretty good, all things considered. My being awkward and shy saved me from him.”

  “But it drove you into Nick’s arms.” And for that, Alex would gladly wring Uncle Rafe’s slimy neck. Nick Durrant was the bastard ex-husband, the son of a bitch who’d murdered Kelsey’s two tiny sons and then tried to kill her. Who’d very nearly killed Alex to get at Kelsey.

  “Yes, but Nick’s dead now, and you’re here,” she breathed. “I look back on everything I’ve lived through, and I can see how every last one of the people in my life, good or bad, brought me to you. To us.” She cast a sideways glance at the bassinet. “To this special day and to our family. We may not have everyone we care about with us right now, Alex, but the ones we’ve loved are waiting for us. This might sound strange, but I’m excited to meet Sara someday. It’ll be good to talk about you with someone who loved you almost as much as I do.”

  That did it. Alex tugged his wife across the narrow space between them and settled her onto his lap. The world always felt more tolerable with Kelsey in his arms and his nose in her hair. His lungs expanded as he wrapped his arms around her and drew in a deep, satisfying breath of the woman he lived for. “You and Sara together, huh? You’d like her.”

  “You do realize that you have two daughters and three sons now,” she murmured into his neck.

  “And two wives.”

  He felt her lips curl into a smile. “Yes, just two. Those other two women you married never counted.”

  “No, no they didn’t,” he breathed. Wives number two and three had been stupid mistakes born of despair and grief after he’d lost Sara and Abby. Neither marriage had lasted a year, and Alex knew he’d been out of his mind, thinking another woman in his bed would fill the holes in his heart. He’d divorced and lost touch with those two, long before he’d met Kelsey.

  She’d wrapped one arm around his neck and was fingering the top button of his dress shirt, her fingertips soft and warm on his skin. He’d barely gotten home from work last night when she’d gone into labor. Now he was at the end of a tumultuous day, the proud father of five, and the humble servant of his queen.

  “I’ll never understand how I got this lucky,” he confessed.

  “Easy,” she breathed. “You were smart enough to marry me.”

  He settled his palm over her hip, his fingers splayed across the cheek of her lovely ass. “I was that,” he whispered as he dipped his head and captured her lips.

  “I love you, Alex,” she breathed into his mouth.

  “And I will love you to the day I die,” he promised, mumbling around her lips. Swearing fealty to his queen was easy.

  “So tell me about your dad.”

  Damn it. Were all queens this persistent?

  “After dinner,” he promised. “First we eat, then story time.”

  “You’re stalling.”

  He nodded. There was no sense trying to fool the woman who knew him best. “I promise. Tonight, I’ll answer all your questions. But first, I’m ordering you a steak and a salad. Chocolate cake for dessert.”

  “And you,” she whispered. “All I really need is you.”

  Alex dropped his nose into her hair, so damned tired of hiding his tears, but hiding them all the same. He was that guy in the Christmas story, “It’s a Wonderful Life.” He was the richest man on Earth.

  Chapter Six

  Jameson froze at Maddie’s blurted declaration, positive she wasn’t any more married than he was. She’d lied, and he wanted to know why. Yet he’d never ask. People lied for many reasons, most frequently, when they were backed into a corner. Asking would only back her into another corner. Confrontation never worked in meaningful relationships; not like he’d had one in a while. But he was hopeful.

  People didn’t realize that lust was a vibrant, living, two-way connection. Maybe it was just the adrenaline of getting a new job—a blind man’s dream job. But he was certain Maddie had also felt the sexual tension simmering between them. He surely had. Felt like a strand of det cord on fire. Hot. So damned hot that he needed a couple minutes to get his body to stand down. Not up, which it was certainly doing now.

  He was breathing hard, trying not to. For her sake, he’d put on his TEAM polo, then located his cane and held it centerline, hoping like hell that skinny white stick hid the bad, bad boy now pressing tightly behind his zipper.

  But if she wasn’t ready or—God forbid—if she were truly married, well… Damn. That’d be too bad. Because finally, Jameson was raring to go and ready to live again. He hadn’t told Maddie he’d failed at dating too, because really? What kind of a wimp would that make him?

  So he went for nonchalant. “How do I look?”

  “Good,” she answered, but her vocal cords were still too tight.

  He’d pushed her too hard, too quickly. Time to reconsider. “Just good?” he teased. “Damn. Thought maybe I looked stellar or buff in this shirt, or, I don’t know, maybe like… Hugh Jackman. Heck, make that Captain America. If I’m gonna dream, I might as well dream big, huh?”

  She huffed through her nose, and he was sure she’d just smiled. “Sorry. Still think you should try the bin on for size. It’s square like your head.”

  He lifted his chin to the ceiling and laughed. “Well, thank you, Missus Smarty Pants. You sure know how to keep a guy in line. What’s next?”

  “The vault.”

  Oh, yes, he’d almost forgotten. Pointing his elbow at her, he said, “Then lead on. We’ve still got a diva to get out of town.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t let you miss your first mission.”

  After a quick, thoroughly delightful visit to a weapons vault that rivalled some of the best private armories Jameson had ever seen, he spent the rest of his day acclimating to the sense of belonging to something bigger and grander than just himself. At last! He was back where he belonged, with brothers and sisters who knew, who’d been there.

  Around three pm, someone ordered a dozen pizzas, and that was another thing about this new team he was on. Everyone seemed to look out for everyone else. Most agents came around and introduced themselves, but the stories they told, mostly on each other, brought tears to his eyes. Good tears. Tears of laughter. Tears that made him feel like he was finally home.

  Mark came by and talked about completing Alex’s ungodly after-action reports. But nothing could dim the tremendous high Jameson was float
ing on, not even the fact that he was working overtime on his first day on the job. He was a trusted agent and he was alive again. Alive, damn it!

  Turned out Maddie was an excellent guide and chauffeur. She made sure he was at Lucy Shade’s five-star hotel in Crystal City precisely at nine pm. Which gave Jameson plenty of time to acquaint himself with the comings and goings in the lobby before Miss Shade came down from her room. The lady hadn’t asked for an escort, but a bodyguard. If anyone was lying in wait for her, he damned well intended to stand between them and his client.

  The only problem to his well thought out plan was that Miss Shade was no lady. She’d huffed and complained the entire ride to Reagan National Airport, and Jameson got it. His egocentric client was annoyed, and he was the subject of the complaint she’d already promised she’d deliver to Alex. Upon meeting her in the lobby, she’d demanded to know who the hell he was. After he’d introduced himself and flashed The TEAM badge Maddie had given him in the weapons vault, Miss Shade had demanded to know why she’d gotten saddled with ‘some blind guy with a cane instead of one of Stewart’s manly hunks.’ Her words, not Jameson’s.

  The last time he’d seen himself, he’d been a damned big manly hunk and not too bad looking. His words.

  Being a true professional, Jameson had worn his suit jacket over The TEAM polo, just to look a titch more professional. He politely apologized for being less than she’d expected, collapsing his offending cane while he did. Since canes for the visually impaired were a glaring white, and heaven forbid she be seen with ‘some blind guy,’ he’d stashed it inside the inner jacket pocket he’d had made for it. He’d promptly promised her The TEAM would provide a better escort next time she was in town. That he’d make sure someone befitting her celebrity was assigned to guard her in the future.

  But he was pretty sure she’d been taken aback when he’d offered his elbow and escorted her from the hotel like a sighted person would have. Swiftly and accurately. Which was simple when a person kept their cool, counted steps, and focused all senses on their current surroundings.

 

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