“Jameson? What’s wrong? My goodness, it’s only six am.”
“I’m good, Mom,” he led with to alleviate her perpetual worry for him. “Wow, it’s that late, err, early? Sorry. I lost track of time.”
“No, you’re fine. I’m usually up by five, you know that. But something’s going on. I can tell. What is it?”
“Nothing’s wrong, Mom. I’m good. Well, except I have to miss dinner this Sunday, but for a good reason. I got that job.”
“Wonderful! I know how much you wanted this one.” His mom’s smile radiated straight over the connection. “But Dad’ll be disappointed. We didn’t realize you’d be working Sundays.”
“I’m not, technically. Well, yeah, I guess I am, since I’m already on a mission. Maybe next week for sure.” She’d understand that. As a SEAL, he’d been on many missions he couldn’t talk about.
“Already? My goodness. Didn’t you just interview yesterday morning?”
“I did, but Adam and Walker put in a good word for me, and my boss sent me right out on a job, but Mom…” There was so much Jameson couldn’t say, so he told her what he could. “I met a girl.”
Chapter Seventeen
Maddie watched Jameson’s back as he disappeared down the hall with Harley. She couldn’t help feeling disappointed. He hadn’t looked her way or said good night or goodbye or… anything. Just walked away without a backward glance. Which made sense. He was the one who couldn’t see, but he should’ve known she wanted one last word with him. Maybe a kiss. He could’ve at least turned in her direction and cocked his head in the way she was beginning to adore.
Although now that she’d spent time with Eric, cleaning the kitchen and storing the groceries Harley had been kind enough to bring, she understood. This was a job, not a hook-up, and they were all adults with their own, very separate lives. Jameson Tenney was former US Navy, a SEAL, one of the most elite special operators in the military. He’d seen and done things most civilians would never understand. He, Eric, and Harley had that whole band-of-brothers thing going on, something she’d never be a part of. She was just a civilian. A wannabe.
Eric had gone on and on about the effects of adrenaline on a person during combat, how it jazzed up a man’s body and hormones, and turned him into a beast. How even for the best guys, that steady chemical overload still made the craziest emotions—like lust—feel more like love, when they were merely the after-effects of hyper-awareness, stress, worry, fear, and… yeah. Adrenaline. If his one-sided conversation wasn’t an indirect warning to back off on the romance with Jameson, nothing was.
Swallowing her foolish yearnings, Maddie filled the dishwasher cup with liquid detergent, closed the appliance’s door, and started the wash cycle. By then, Harley and Jameson were nowhere in sight, and Eric had just shut his bedroom door. He’d turned the security system on. The lights were muted, and the house was quiet, full of exhausted, sleeping men. And her. Wide awake. Darn it.
She walked to her room, the first on the left, opposite the safe room. Jameson’s room was at the far end, between Harley’s and Eric’s. Where she definitely wasn’t brave enough to go. Those darned guys had secured Jameson there intentionally. Not like it mattered. He was probably sound asleep by now. Probably so tired, he couldn’t think straight. Might not have given her a second thought when his head hit the pillow. Alex only stocked these safe houses with the best, and that pillow beneath Jameson’s head would be just the right kind of soft. Once he laid down…
OhGodOhGodOhGod. The last thing she should be thinking of was him on his back on that bed and her straddling his hips and…
No. Just no. He’s a man, and you already know how men are. How many heartbreaks do you need before you get it? Men don’t want real women. They want obedient daughters and slaves, someone to clean up behind them and do what they’re told. Someone to sit adoringly at their side while they snore their brains out, fart, burp, expect dinner made and read,y and… Where was I going with this?
She paused, her fingertips on the knob that would open her door and put another layer of solid wood between Jameson and her. Wooden doors were good fire protection. She knew that. Every home should be built as safe as this one. But she couldn’t take her eyes off the one at the end of the hall.
Most of her life, she’d been alone, first under the thumb of her self-absorbed father, then with her gambling addict husband. For those few months after she’d kicked Nash Coogan out, the loneliness had been a welcome relief from the merry-go-round of lies, lies, and more lies she’d been living with. That was when this TEAM Protocol Officer job came up. As scared as she’d been the day she’d marched into the interview with Senior Agent Mark Houston, she’d impressed him. He’d said so. He’d also been blunt about how difficult working with former military might be for a civilian who’d never served active duty.
But truth was, everyone on The TEAM, even the man she answered directly to and worked most closely with, Alex Stewart, had gone out of their way to welcome her. Because of his vote of confidence in her, she’d learned the ropes quickly. The TEAM became her one safe place where no one lied to her. Where no one talked behind her back or twisted the truth to suit their agendas, either. She was respected. She’d made friends. Camilla and Beckam even had her over for dinner one night. Alex and his wife included her on the invitation to join them at the hospital for their baby boy’s birth. How unique and great was that? Being part of The TEAM was fun.
Yet here she was, alone again. Wondering. Working with Jameson tonight had built a fire inside she didn’t want to lose. Its roaring flame had died down, but she’d banked those precious embers, hoping for closer contact. The taste of his mouth was still alive on her tongue. No matter what she ate or drank, the heat of his lips still burned, and the sting of his five o’clock shadow had left the nicest abrasions on her chin and around her mouth.
She could still feel his tense, ropey muscles around her when she closed her eyes. He’d left a mark where no one else could see it, where she still felt it. In her soul. Yet it needed fuel to survive, and that precious fuel lay down the hall, so close and yet so darned far away.
He’d called her brave today. And strong. Yet there she stood, trembling with cowardice born of years of being denigrated and scorned. Of never being good enough, smart enough, or, her all-time favorite put-down, pretty enough. But what if…?
Good grief. Her fingers lifted to her lips. What if she took those few steps to Jameson’s door? What if she opened it and…. Was she brave or was she still her dad’s lackey? Did her confidence depend on the man who’d thrown her out of his house before she was old enough to vote, or the man who simply wanted to take her out for coffee? A date. All Jameson asked for was a date.
What if, indeed…
Her heart beat with nervous excitement. Could she do this? Be brave and strong just a little while longer? After all she’d done tonight, could she walk those few steps down the hall and open that man’s door? Go to him? Be with him?
The thought of intentionally defying TEAM rules went against all Maddie was. After what Alex had done for her, she hated to betray him. She wanted to serve, she did. But for once in her life, she also wanted something that was just hers. To take those few steps, she’d have to be wrong to be right. It’d be the biggest, most daring risk of her life to walk between Eric and Harley’s doors, but—
That solid door between them opened, and…
OhGodOhGodOhGod. There he was, his head cocked, but facing her as if he knew right where she was standing and deliberating and chewing her fingernails. He’d changed into running pants, The TEAM logo stamped in bright gold on the cuff of one pant leg. But no shirt. His wet, tousled dark hair gleamed in the dim light from the kitchen behind her, making him look boyishly handsome even as his body declared he was all man.
“Maddie?” he whispered, his face turned in her direction, but his eyes seeing nothing.
Didn’t matter. Her pulse raced at the sight of all that ba
re, masculine skin. “Jameson?”
He waved her to come to him, and she did. Quickly, without hesitation. Her doubts fled the second she reached his door, and he pulled her inside his room. So did all thought. The door closed noiselessly, and she was lost in the warm steel of his arms. He pressed her back to the wall as his mouth covered hers and swallowed her baseless worries and fears. They were chest to chest, belly to belly, and thigh to thigh. Both breathing hard.
For the first time in her life, Maddie was exactly what and where she wanted to be. Breathless. With every lick of his tongue, he fed the fire she’d kept sequestered for right darned now. Just for him.
Her fingers seemed to adore his body. Of their own volition, they smoothed eagerly over the sleek, sculpted muscles of his chest. She gasped in his mouth when all ten digits tingled at the dusting of crisp, coarse hairs on that rock-solid plane. Her thumbs searched for the flat nubs of his nipples, found and teased them until he shivered. Then, over the smooth rounded bulges of his shoulders, and onto those massive corded biceps. Jameson wasn’t like Mark or Zack, all pumped and heavily-muscled. He was cut out of leaner, smoother granite that quivered under her touch. A mighty stallion full of eager energy. Right at her fingertips.
By the time her trembling fingers ended their exploration, those carefully banked embers were a roaring fire in her ears, and heat, not blood, pumped through her veins.
She moaned in his hot mouth. Just once. And Jameson took over.
One hand turned into a gentle bracelet around her wrist as he married her wrists together over her head. Holding her taut and still, he kissed his way over her lips and cheeks. Which wasn’t very fair. He’d showered and changed and smelled delicious, but she’d only washed her hands before fixing omelets. For sure, her hair smelled of smoke and sweat, her underwear, too.
Yet with every heated breath over her skin, and with each sweet, tender kiss, he turned her from lowly wait staff into a princess. Maybe even a queen.
Silly, foolish tears stung her eyes when his free hand pulled her borrowed TEAM shirt out of her pants and began a slow exploration of her bare tummy. The tips of his fingers moved up her centerline to her breasts. The difference between this sleek, sure champion and the imposter at his fingertips grew too much. She was drowning in so many sweet, lovely sensations she’d never known before. This whole thing was a mistake.
Yet just as she was about to beg him to stop, Jameson breathed into her neck, “You have a habit of holding your breath when you’re tense, did you know that?”
Her head bobbed even as tears spilled over.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m scared.”
“Of me?”
“No. Of what I want you to do to me. With me.” Even with her eyes closed she could feel him smile. “Don’t laugh,” she murmured, afraid to look at the man she knew couldn’t see her. Yet Jameson had a way of seeing so much more than the sharpest TEAM operator.
The warm, wet heat from his lips moved up her neck to the curl of her ear where he whispered, “Let’s take this party to my bed, so you can relax. I’d never hurt you. I hope you know that, babe.”
There was that pretty word again. Babe. Maybe other guys meant it to objectify their women, but when Jameson said it, she felt protected and special. “I do.”
“Whenever you want me to stop, tell me, Mad Dog. You’re my best partner yet. We’re in this together. Let’s turn that frowny face upside down.”
Okay, that made her smile. Mad Dog? How could she not grin at the ridiculous handle Adam had given her? Frowny face? Really?
“I’ve just...” She gulped, not sure what she needed to say next. She wasn’t a virgin. Nash had fumbled that first in the dirty back room of a cheap bar one night. But this thing with Jameson…? He could hurt her worse than Nash or her dad ever had. Because, somehow over these last hours, he’d crawled under her skin and embedded himself in her heart. She was such a sucker for nice guys, and that’s precisely who he was.
Without waiting for her to finish her thought, Jameson let Maddie’s wrists loose at the same time he slipped one arm under her knees, the other around her shoulders. “I know what you need,” he said very quietly as he lifted her against him.
“What’s that?” She tried to sound tougher than she was, but his body was warm and seductive. So big and so much broader than hers. He was a door. She was just a shadow behind that door.
“A good night’s sleep. You’re a morning person. I can tell.”
“What I need is a shower,” blurted out of her. She hooked one arm over his neck. But when he flinched, she cringed at her mistake. “Oh, no, I forgot. Your neck is burned. Let me see.”
“I forgot you have mad doctor skills,” he teased. “Shower, here we come.”
“I shouldn’t have told Alex you have mad ninja skills, huh?” She laid her cheek on his shoulder and rubbed her nose into his neck. Whatever he’d splashed on after he’d shaved, it was her new favorite scent.
He shrugged as he angled her through the bathroom door. “I’m pretty sure he’s already heard that. As long as we’re both a little crazy at something, I’m good. Come into my parlor, said the spider to the ladybug.”
“It’s supposed to be fly.”
“But you’re not a fly, are you? Flies swarm by the millions on dead animals and smelly stuff like manure. But ladybugs are bright and rare and precious. They protect things, like roses from aphids.” He’d set her on the bathroom counter and under the light by then. His fingers were splayed on the sides of her head, the rough pads of his thumbs smoothing over her cheekbones. “You’re precious and rare, Maddie, but I get the distinct impression no one’s ever told you that before.”
Jameson struck her stupid and mute. She was peering up at him. He was looking down at her, his gaze dark and not seeing, yet seeing inside of her nonetheless. Of course, no one had ever said something so sweet before. Dad wanted a slave and a son; Nash, a gofer.
“Your eyes are beautiful. They’re brown, like coffee,” she murmured, thrilled she could finally see that startling clear color up close. Brown, but nonresponsive to light. His black pupils didn’t dilate. Didn’t matter. She smoothed her palm, lovingly cupping his jaw, staring into that void. Sure that he knew she was looking at him. Into his soul. Somehow, Jameson had turned what others might’ve perceived as a debilitating handicap, into an asset and a skill. He was charming and kind and polite to a fault. Resourceful and confident. What more could any woman want?
“I see you,” she told him breathlessly.
He pressed a moist kiss to her forehead and whispered, “I’d give a million bucks to be able to see you, Maddie Bannister. You’re an unexpected bonus after a hard day’s work.” Another warm kiss melted over one eyelid as he breathed, “A breath of springtime in, what has been for me, a long, dark winter.” He kissed her other eyelid. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you and your sight tonight.”
By then, she was clinging to his wrists, both eyes closed and her nose working overtime. Ah, she loved the smell of this man’s skin after a shower. Squeaky clean. Slightly spicy. All him.
“You’re perfect, Maddie. Just the way you are. Right now. Right here,” he breathed into her ear. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she whispered. “After...” Something. She’d forgotten what, but it was important.
“Okay then. First-aid, then shower, then me. Us. Sound good?”
Oh, yeah. His neck was burned, and she was going to take care of that. She nodded like a dolt, her brain offline, but every other atom in her body was humming and loving the magnetic connection with this gentle man.
Feeling his way across the room to the floor to ceiling cupboard between the counter and shower, he pulled a first-aid kit off the middle shelf and set it beside her thigh. “Might be some burn cream or gel in here. See what we’ve got, Mad Dog. I’m yours to command.” He said that with a flourish and the same soft, sweet smile tweaking his l
ips, the same smile he’d used on her when she’d nearly run over him coming out of Mark’s office this morning, err, yesterday morning.
“Good grief,” she breathed. “I almost forgot what I was going to do.”
They really were strangers. For now.
Chapter Eighteen
He licked his bottom lip when Maddie slipped off the counter and rifled through the first-aid supplies. She was worried. He could smell it. And still tense. But not afraid of him, more concerned about being with him and breaking TEAM rules. Well, too bad. Rules were made to be broken. Every SEAL knew that.
His blood was thrumming, had been since he’d sensed her standing alone in the hall, probably on her way to bed. Which struck him as damned good timing on his part. He’d purposefully waited until Harley and Eric had gone into their rooms and closed their doors before he’d ventured after Maddie. He’d felt herded tonight from the way Harley had gotten him out of the kitchen and away from her so quickly, leaving her with Eric. Jameson understood. These two guys were protective, and that was good. It was nice to know she had honest-to-goodness badassed warriors on her side. But she wasn’t theirs to protect, was she?
Not anymore. He was here now, and so what if he’d only been here one day? He understood why Harley and Eric stood by Maddie. They’d just met, then gone through one helluva first operation together. But every warrior also knew how twenty-four hours in a firefight could comprise a year’s worth of solid intel about the people fighting at your side. He and Maddie had clicked. He’d felt it the second she’d brushed her fingers over his shirt in Mark’s office, back when she’d plowed into him and nearly knocked him on his ass.
The thought of their first encounter brought a smile to his face. Her. Knocking him on his ass. She’d done precisely that, hadn’t she? And she didn’t even know it. Probably didn’t know she was beautiful, either.
“Ah ha. Found it,” she muttered to herself.
The thing about Maddie was the way she filled his darkness. She glowed with the kind of light only a blind man could see. That otherworldly glow came from her innocence and her kindness. Her heart. Despite the losers in her life, she was still true to the sweet woman she was. Her old man and her ex might’ve hurt her feelings, but they hadn’t irreparably damaged the woman she intrinsically was inside of herself. Maddie was better than either of those lowlifes.
Jameson (In the Company of Snipers Book 22) Page 16