by Zoe Dawson
“Newsflash: I do have a thing for you.”
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through her chest. Then he rolled over to his back and stretched his long, lean body, and she took advantage of watching all those muscles ripple. His glossy hair was a tousled mess around his head. “That’s puttin’ some spurs into my giddy-up.”
“Isn’t this supposed to feel awkward?”
“Do you want it to be? I can be like: Well, thank you kindly, ma’am. Let me grab my boots and my spurs and git outta yer hair. Go ride the range and mend me some fences. I ain’t used to a soft mattress and an even softer gal. I usually bed down with my horse, but you know somethin’, he don’t smell as good.”
She giggled at his thick Texas accent. “That was a huge side of cowboy there.”
“Hey! Get your lazy asses out of bed. Sun’s been up for ten minutes. Rise and shine, marshmallows! PT time.”
“Give me a break!” Kia yelled. “I’m not in the navy. I don’t take orders from you.”
“Doesn’t matter! You get sucked in by association, woman. Now get out of bed and get going.”
She rose up on her elbow and pushed back the sheet. Cowboy gave her a quizzical look. “Are you going to give into his bullying tactics? He called us marshmallows.”
“He’s a huge, Tank-sized pain in my ass. It’s always got to be his way or the highway.”
She smiled softly, trailing her fingers over his skin, marveling at the satiny texture over such hardness. He watched her face, then his cleared. “I can go on record here as saying that you might be buttoned up, have a will of steel and take forever to get a clue when a woman is trying to get you into bed, but you’re no marshmallow.” She bumped her index finger over the ridges of his abs, through the silky hair that disappeared under the sheet all the way down to his hip, then smoothed her palm back up along his ribcage, enjoying the feel of this hard, hard man. She hadn’t missed the tent his erection made beneath the covers.
As he flexed his legs the sheet dipped lower on his hips, and she already knew what kind of heat he was packing there. She’d thoroughly enjoyed his well-endowed ministrations more than once last night. The man didn’t just walk tough. He carried a big, gorgeous stick and he knew how to use it.
Speaking of supports, she reached out brushing her fingers along the jut of that tantalizing silhouette, “What kind of tepee pole do you have going on here, Kemosabe?” His amber eyes got this melting, challenging glint in them. “I can only hazard a guess, mind you, but I’d say you have some morning wood there, or am I just turning you on?”
He gazed at her through lashes that had fallen half-mast. Hooking his finger underneath the leather of her collar, he brought her mouth down to his. “You keep that up and there’s going to be some hard breathing, some groanin’ and some sweatin’ missy, but there won’t be any runnin’ involved.”
“I think I’ll take my chances.”
He grinned.
“Hey! I’ve seen the schedule. Don’t we have some decorating to do, dumplings?”
“Again, with the fat insults. Is he always like this? The designated nudge, something like a SEAL yenta?”
He laughed out loud. “Pretty much, but I don’t think he’s Jewish.” His mirth was so sexy, that wide, beautiful smile, the way he drew up his knees a bit, scrunched up his handsome face and clutched his flat stomach was so endearing. “I’ll start using that. Believe me. With a team of smart-asses, it’ll stick, especially if I get Kid Chaos on my side.”
She giggled. “Who’s Kid Chaos? He sounds like he’s fun. Why didn’t you bring him instead?”
“Ashe Wilder, he’s the point man on the team, sniper and my best friend. He’s batshit crazy, but in a good way. He just got married, and I didn’t want to ruin the honeymoon. Besides, him and Paige are sickening with the kissy face all the time. Yuck.”
“Are you a PDA Scrooge or are you just jelly?” She kissed him all over his face.
“Yes, both, bah, humbug,” he growled, nuzzling her neck.
“So, now you have to tell me about your team. All of them. I already know Tank.” She rolled her eyes. “Who else?”
“Our lieutenant or LT as we call him for short is Ruckus—Bowie Cooper, best damn leader on the teams, smart as a whip and gets right in there on our missions.”
“Call names, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s easier.”
“Who else?”
“Arlo Porter, Scarecrow, Southern badass and our comms guy, but he’s no pushover. When the bullets start flying, he’s deadly. Orion Cross, Wicked, gourmet cook and Olympic rower, amazing dart player and hardcore all the time; Ocean Beckett, Blue, our corpsman, god-like healing talent, quiet but deadly. Lastly, Jude Lock, Hollywood, best trash talker on the team, pick-up-artist ladies’ man, and top-notch ass-kicker. He’s our heavy weapons handler.”
“Daylight’s burning, cinnamon buns!”
Both of them sighed. “Okay, now I’m starting to get hungry,” she grumbled. “Don’t you have a granola bar or a gun?”
There was that laugh again. “I’m fresh out of granola bars, and yeah, I’ve tried shooting him before. It only makes him mad and the gosh darn uptight navy…they frown on it. Like, zero sense of humor.”
She threw back her head and laughed, choking out, “The stick-in-the-muds. They have no vision.” He brushed his mouth against her neck. Her mirth died and her breath hitched. “Is there any way we can stall him, gag him, tie him up?” she whispered. “I do have handcuffs, duct tape and old socks.”
He raised a brow, his eyes heating. “He isn’t called Thorn for no reason. But, I think you’ll fit right into the team.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve got an idea, but you need to give me a minute after that bit of information,” he rasped. He closed his eyes gaining control of his voice. “Shut the hell up, Tank. Give us thirty minutes and that’s a freaking order, meatball!”
“That’s not even a breakfast item, but hoo-yah, sir!”
She smiled at him. “It’s so good to have a man in charge,” she cooed. He chuckled and rose and tumbled her onto her back, and before her peal of laughter could subside, he captured her mouth, kissing her hard and deep.
“So what call name would I have since I’m an honorary SEAL. Please don’t go with something obvious like Raven.”
“Fits because of your hair, but no it’s much too common for you. It has to embody the person, the attitude and fit with something that you’re known for that makes it much more personal.”
“Now I’m intrigued. Don’t make me tickle it out of you.”
“I’m not ticklish.”
She reached for his ribs, and he jerked away from her with a burst of laughter.
“The big, bad SEAL is ticklish.” He grabbed her wrists. “I have an order for you, and if you comply completely, I’ll tell you my suggestion.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Blackmail, huh? Since I think I might like the order, yes, sir,” she said, her voice breathless. “I’m at your command, Cowboy, sir.”
“Spread your beautiful thighs,” he growled in his best deep, drill sergeant voice.
“What is it, you terrible tease?”
He waited a beat, his eyes twinkling. She preferred this sweet, open man to the one who had arrived in Reddick just a few days ago. “Fishnet.” She was in deep love stuff here. “Tactically speaking, there’s no buttons, bows, snaps, zippers, buckles, hooks or fastenings. The enemy will be so mystified how you got into the getup, we’d get the drop on them. Not a shot fired.”
She smacked him. “I like it, but I have to point out you left “darlin’” off your order.”
“So, I did.”
“Now you’ll have to make it up to me.” She thrust out her bottom lip, and he sucked it into his mouth.
“Hoo-yah…darlin’,” he breathed against her mouth. “I’d better get to commencing, then.”
A low moan broke from him as she gently grasped him, stroked him and guided him into her. He was so hard, bein
g careful as he filled her, but she didn’t want his restraint. She wanted him hard, deep and out of control. She thrust up taking all of him, at the same time she bit his neck, trailing open-mouth kisses to the hollow of his throat, his skin salty and delicious. Her whole body collected and tightened as she arched her head back when he pumped deep, then withdrew and plunged even deeper. “Yes,” she whispered. “So good.” She arched again, choking out his name. He shuddered, then clutched her against him, drove into her in rapid succession, finally sending her over the edge of a high, splintering cliff. He thrust into her once more, grinding against her, then stiffened, an agonized groan wrenched from him as he freefell with her.
The morning was a flurry of running for an hour and working to keep up with two SEALs—although, note to self. Running behind two fit men in skimpy shorts and no shirts with deliciously muscled backs, achingly broad shoulders, trim waists and butts of steel wasn’t such a hardship, then a hot shower with Wes—umm…cough…to conserve water. After all that it was on to the time-consuming task of feeding canines, equines, and one cagey and ornery feline. The most intelligent of the bunch, homo sapiens, had to take the last breakfast call. It was a surprise they arrived at The Barn on time. Tank and Cowboy, carrying a box each, flanked her as she walked in. Several heads turned toward the door, the males in there looked intimidated and the women looked…interested. She couldn’t blame either gender. These men were deadly, sex on a stick. Setting the boxes near the door, Wes was dressed in a black T-shirt with a red plaid shirt open for easy access to the gun he carried in a shoulder holster, the open neck showing his strong throat, worn jeans riding his lean hips, the black Stetson shading his eyes and blue-gray ostrich cowboy boots on his feet. Tank on the other hand looked like he just got off a motorcycle, with a stark white T-shirt with “Speed, let it make you breathless,” across his broad chest beneath a leather vest that mimicked a military tactical vest, hiding his shoulder holster, paired with a pair of olive green racing pants, the ends tucked into panty-melting, black-buckled, shiny metal boots.
Evie came forward, “Hi, Kia,” she said, and the spot between her shoulder blades tightened. It was that mean-girl look that Kia remembered from high school. She took a breath reminding herself that she wasn’t in high school anymore, and she didn’t have to put up with that crap anymore. “We were so sorry to hear about your mishap. Are you feeling better?”
“Mishap?” Wes growled. “You mean when she was almost knifed in the alley?”
Evie gave him a tight smile. “Well, hello there to you, too, Wes.” She turned to Tank, her eyes glowing. “And, who do we have here? I don’t remember you from high school.”
“Babe, if I was in your high school, you would remember me.”
Kia smirked, and Wes snorted.
“I’m sure I would,” her voice softened.
“Thorn Hunt. Wes and I are buddies.”
She gave him the once over, clear that she thought he was quite gorgeous, but Tank looked away as if bored.
He nudged her. “Tell me what you want done, girl.”
“Start with stringing the white lights and globes.” She opened her notebook and popped out the page that had the diagram.
“We need the table decorations,” Evie sniffed.
“The flowers I ordered should be here any minute. The other stuff is in the boxes by the door, including the tablecloths and napkins. Wes, could you get the props I brought out of your truck? The posters of where our classmates have travelled, travel destination map for people to pin, and large postcards are in the back already. That’s where you’ll find the lights and the etched earth lanterns to hang, Thorn.”
“Roger that.”
“I found these fabulous globe sky lanterns as well. We can light them and set them free over the lake after the dance.” The flower delivery guy pulled up and unloaded the stuff. The food wasn’t going to be there until closer to the mixer start time.
A woman approached her and said, “Kia. I would know you anywhere.”
“Melody! It’s so good to see you. I hardly recognize you.”
She blushed and smiled broadly. “I lost a lot of weight.”
“You look amazing.”
“I won’t bug you too much because we have a lot of work to do, but I just wanted to talk to you for just a minute.”
“Sure.”
“You were so kind to me in high school when everyone thought we were so weird, even got those embarrassing pictures taken down of me and the donut incident. You know how I always had themed horse stuff including my backpack.”
Kia nodded, remembering Melody as such a sweet girl who had been so horribly teased for her weight. Any time Kia could, she defended her.
“Part of the reason I came was because I wanted to show everyone how I’ve changed and the other reason is because I wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me? Why?”
“Do you remember that speech you gave in class about using your weird?”
“Vaguely.”
“Well, it was hilarious and changed my life. When I got out of high school, I decided to start working with horses. I volunteered at a local stable and started watching what I ate. I wanted to ride so badly. It paid off, but while I was there, I learned I was a natural. It was almost like I read their minds. So after that, I opened my own small training business. It went well, then I started doing horse rescue. I developed an app, EquineBuddy, for people to adopt horses. It took off and it was all because of you. You inspired me to use my unique talents. My obsessive weirdness for horses now allows me to make a difference in their lives. I met my husband through the app when he adopted one of the horses. We have a daughter. I named her Kia.”
“Wow,” Kia impulsively hugged her, her eyes stinging. “That is so wonderful.”
“I see that you haven’t changed one bit. You’re still so very cool. You were right. Being who you are rocks.”
Kia blinked a couple of times thinking that she had been so isolated in high school, but somehow, she’d influenced Melody. Overcome, she headed for the back of The Barn and the porch. Of course, both men took off after her, but Wes indicated he had her. She stepped outside and gripped the rail, her chest full. All her life she’d thought that by being strange, thumbing her nose at normal, she could protect herself. That people couldn’t hurt her. But the truth of the matter was everyone wanted to be accepted for who they were. That it was enough and deep down inside, she had believed she fell short.
She hadn’t realized that Wes was right. She had done everything for this reunion to ingratiate herself to her former classmates, but what she had been doing was trying to shoehorn her way into a select group of people who never got her, probably never would. It was that lost, lonely orphan who wanted to be accepted for herself. She realized that she would have to find the courage to do that, to let go of that need.
Wes’s hands clasped her shoulders. “Darlin’,” he said softly, “what’s wrong?”
She abruptly turned and buried her face against his neck. “I just discovered that I’m an idiot.”
Her chest expanded at the soft caring in his tone. “What do you mean?”
“All this time, I thought if I could do this or do that, I would finally fit in with these people. Finally, be accepted for who I was…just me. But I was wrong. It doesn’t matter what they think. It only matters what I think. I thought maybe, somehow, I wasn’t enough.”
He leaned back, his brow furrowed. “That’s a dang lie.”
“I know,” she said as tears slipped down her cheeks. He thumbed the moisture, his touch so gentle and soothing. All this time she believed this about herself. If she didn’t embrace it, she would die inside, lose her essence.
This reunion had been a catalyst for her in many ways. It had brought Wes back home to Reddick, threw her into crisis about the secrets she harbored from him, promising not only relief, but resolution. She’d discovered that she didn’t have to sacrifice so much for an empty promise.
Bu
t what lingered was that her life was in danger, From whom, she didn’t know. Her stomach tightened as she pressed her face against him again. Was it a threat from her investigation of the gun that had allegedly ended Travis McGraw’s life by his own hand? Or had there been a sinister plot to snatch Sweetwater’s land to build a damn competitive golf course.
She saw Roger “Red” Sweeny, Jr. enter and everything in her stiffened. Wes felt it and turned around. His jaw hardened.
Red was the rich kid, the one who got whatever he wanted from his overindulgent daddy, Rodger “Big Red” Sweeny, Sr. Big Red wanted Sweetwater land for its beauty and proximity to the water. He wanted to build an upscale country club, tournament golf course, and marina. He had been around the last six months of Travis’s life, pressuring him. It wouldn’t surprise Kia to find out if Big Red had sabotaged Travis’s business. She believed Big Red had killed Travis and staged his suicide. It was a gut feeling.
Wes didn’t kowtow to him and that started a rivalry between them that started in kindergarten. Red was always trying to best Wes and had never been able to pull it off, whether it was sports, women, or popularity.
What Wes didn’t know was that Kia owned Sweetwater and had for ten years. After the ranch had gone up for sale, she’d bought it as a cash offer. She had no idea how Wes would react.
She could lose him. That sent adrenaline straight into her system, triggering a fast heartbeat and an irrational fear.
Oh, God, she could lose him so many ways. She tightened her arms around him as Wes drew her deeper into his embrace and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “It’s a good thing to know who you are,” he said huskily. “Coming back here has been…enlightening.” She wrapped her arms around his neck not exactly sure how she was going to handle any of this.
After the tables were assembled and all the decorations were in place, Kia assembled the props near the door, stacked luggage, and in a big trunk with travel stickers all over it, a goody bag filled with a raffle ticket for a trip to Paris Kia donated to add to the fundraiser coffers for the band and football uniforms, luggage tags with their theme “Oh, The Places I’ve Been,” a travel mug with the school mascot and name and date of the reunion, and an itinerary for the rest of the reunion.