Rev It Up

by Julie Ann Walker

  “Before we go out, I need to call the guys on the perimeter and make sure there aren’t any unfriendlies skulkin’ about the place,” he told her absently, his deep, sexy voice making her shiver.

  Or maybe it was just the cool evening breeze causing her skin to erupt in goose bumps. She certainly hoped it was the breeze because, crud, she wasn’t that far gone, was she?

  When he gave her a strange look, she realized she hadn’t responded to his last statement and was, instead, gaping at him in slack-jawed fascination, mere seconds away from breaking into song.

  Ack! Someone just shoot me now!

  Of course, since some wiseguy out of Las Vegas had put a price on the head of each and every Black Knight, she knew getting shot was an actual possibility. Which was why most of the Knights were stationed in the buildings around the perimeter of the BKI’s compound, keeping a close eye on their operation.

  “Oh, uh, good idea,” she murmured and screwed her eyes closed when she realized how impossibly lame that sounded.

  Rock didn’t seem to notice—thank goodness—because he was already pushing some numbers on his phone and listening to it ring on the other end.

  Pull yourself together, Cordero. He’s just another operator like all the other operators you’ve worked with your entire life.

  Unfortunately, that wasn’t true. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but he was somehow…different…

  To distract herself as Rock exchanged a few terse words with whichever Knight he’d called, she turned back to the group gathering around the table.

  Michelle was in the process of taking a seat when she glanced at her son’s sticky hands and quickly changed her mind.

  “No way you’re coming to the table with those hands, mister,” she said.

  Little Franklin groaned like having to go inside to wash was tantamount to Chinese torture, and it was impossible to miss the smoldering look in Snake’s eyes as he followed Michelle’s progress into the shop.

  Boss obviously didn’t miss it, because he punched Snake in the shoulder and grumbled, “Stop staring at my kid sister like she’s five-foot-ten-inches of grade-A giggidy.”

  “Ow!” Snake howled, making a face as he rubbed his abused shoulder. Then he grinned, lifting his hands in a shrug.

  “You’re ruining my dinner,” Boss rumbled.

  “Like that’s even possible,” Becky snorted, and Vanessa could only shake her head. She was still having a bit of trouble consolidating the image of the world’s most dangerous men with those of the guys she’d come to know at BKI, the ones who threw impromptu barbeques and razzed one another without mercy. Sometimes, the place felt less like a top-secret spy shop and more like a rowdy fraternity.

  “Perimeter’s clear. We’re good to go,” Rock drawled, reminding her that for next couple of minutes she’d be completely alone with him.

  Oh dear. The butterflies in her stomach started crawling up into her throat.

  “Hey, Rock!” Becky called before they could make it through the shop’s back door.

  “Yeah, chère?”

  “While you’re out there, would you do a sweep of Snake’s bike to make sure it’s free of bugs or any other nasty devices?” The Knights never allowed unsecured vehicles onto their premises. In their line of work, it paid to be vigilant. “I’m dying to get a closer look at that paint job. The snakeskin on the tank looks almost three-dimensional.”

  “That would be thanks to this amazing tattoo artist out of LA,” Snake said as he dug in his front pocket and tossed Rock a set of keys.

  Even balancing the mammoth plate of steak, salad, and potatoes, Rock caught the keys easily.

  “You finally restored that ol’ Honda?” Boss asked, and the conversation dissolved into flywheels, pistons, and cylinders, of which Vanessa knew absolutely nothing.

  Amazingly, however, since joining the Knights, her interest in the subject matter had skyrocketed, because, seriously, what she wouldn’t give to have her very own custom-designed Black Knights motorcycle.

  She’d never really considered herself the type of woman to go in for the whole MC lifestyle. But the first time she’d seen all the Knights mount up and head for the open road, she knew she wanted a piece of that action.

  “Lead the way,” Rock’s drawl interrupted her thoughts, and she turned toward the shop’s back door.

  She’d only gone a few feet when she glanced over her shoulder. Something about having him behind her gave her the definite sensation of being…stalked. Of course, that particular feeling made a lot of sense when she caught him staring at her butt the way a hungry lion stares at a wounded impala.

  Okay, so maybe he was aware she was alive.

  Gulp. She wasn’t sure if that knowledge made her giddy as a school girl or simply scared the crap out of her. But from somewhere deep inside her, some place she never knew existed, a little horned—or maybe horny was the best way to describe her—demon sprung up and said, “You see something you like, cowboy?”

  Rock’s eyes shot to her face, one dark eyebrow rose nearly to his hairline. “I certainly do, ma belle,” he grumbled. “But I’ve learned most things I like tend to get me in trouble.”

  “Trouble can be fun,” she heard herself retort and almost choked.

  Who was this woman saying these salacious things? Certainly not her.

  It’s official folks. I’ve been possessed by a demon. A motorcycle-riding, sexy-talking succubus apparently.

  “Oui.” He slowly licked his lips, catching the bottom one between his square teeth before adding, “Trouble can be fun. Are you lookin’ for some fun, chère?”

  Oh gosh, and whatever demon had momentarily possessed her suddenly vanished without a trace, leaving her flustered and tongue-tied and completely incapable of thought. The best she could manage was an audible gulp followed by the tentative lifting of one shaking shoulder.

  Rock’s eyes darkened and a small smile played at his beautiful, beautiful mouth. “Well, when you figure it out, ma cocette, you know where to find me.”

  Chapter Three

  “So, are you seeing anyone?” Jake whispered, closely watching Shell’s face as the shadows of dusk settled over the courtyard.

  She was quietly rocking her sleeping son and singing along to Rock’s rendition of some old Kenny Rogers song. And though Jake reviled all things country with the same passion as a kid reviles peas, he had to admit, he’d listen to Willie, Waylon, and the boys until the cows came home if it meant he could continue to hear her soft voice gently linger in the evening air.

  Man, he’d missed her. Especially when she slid him a withering look.

  She was the nicest, warmest woman on the entire planet. To his knowledge, she’d never missed one of the SEALs’ birthdays. She’d always been the first to send flowers to the hospital when they were injured. She’d schlepped through the crowds at the mall to buy extra civvies in order to save them from having to spend their blessedly few personal hours shopping. She’d memorized the names of siblings and parents and family pets and was the first to ask how Uncle Rupert’s gallbladder surgery went, or if Grandma Ivy enjoyed her Alaskan cruise.

  There’d always been a hot meal waiting at Shell’s tiny, one-bedroom apartment for some hungry commando just back from a mission, or a pull-out sofa for some sloppy operator who’d had one too many to make it back to base under his own steam.

  In short, she’d been home away from home. A safe harbor for the fighting men to return to after coming back from some of the hairiest missions of their lives.

  But she could shrivel most men’s berries with that particular look of hers.

  Luckily, he wasn’t most men.

  “My love life is none of your business,” she muttered, pursing her lips until he got a very clear mental image of how she’d look with her mouth wrapped around—

  Damn. It was way past time he took the advice of the venerable Young MC and checked his libido.

  “So that’s a no,” he said, smiling and feeling so
me of his tension dissolve.

  His mission to win her over was going to be a whole hell of a lot easier to accomplish without another man involved. And he was glad for that one small miracle because convincing her he’d changed and that she should take a chance on him would be hard enough all on its own, especially considering the last conversation they’d ever had, the one outside the base’s gates.

  The memory stabbed into his brain like a hot knife…

  It was raining. When she jumped from her car, yelling his name, she was instantly soaked. He felt such desire and rage in that instant. Because he still loved her despite the fact that she no longer loved him. And he knew exactly why she’d come…

  “Jake, please!” she yelled, running up and grabbing his arm. “Can we talk?”

  “I don’t have time,” he growled, shaking off her hand and ignoring her hurt expression. “This weather makes the brass absolutely giddy, and those sadistic bastards are sending us out on a training exercise in fifteen. You can call me tomorrow.”

  “And will you answer?” she asked, her eyes wide and uncertain. “You haven’t the last fifty times I’ve tried.”

  Yeah, well… “You know what they say, the fifty-first time’s a charm,” he mocked.

  “Jake, please, I—I need to tell you something,” she said, pushing her wet hair back from her face. Her mascara ran down her cheeks in twin rivers, and he assured himself it was due to the rain and not tears even though her eyes were red and swollen.

  Because what the hell did she have to cry about? Her life was turning out just perfect.

  “I know what you’re gonna say,” he ground out. A crack of thunder split the already charged atmosphere, fraying his raw nerves.

  “You do?”

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “And I don’t wanna hear it.”

  “But I—I thought that—” She shook her head, her wet hair sticking to her cheeks. “Did Steven tell you?”

  He laughed, but it had nothing to do with humor. “Preacher didn’t have to say a damn thing. It’s plain as day.”

  “It is?”

  “Of course it is.” He scowled as he swiped the rain from his face. “You’re trading up. The enlisted man for the officer. Hey,” he shrugged when she opened her mouth to try to defend herself, “it’s no big deal. You wanted to bag yourself an operator, and Preacher’s a much better bet than me. Not only is he in that advanced pay grade, but he’ll make an honest woman of you. And you know all I ever wanted was a piece of that grade-A ass.”

  She gaped at him in disbelief.

  “Right on!” he told her, not trying to hide his contempt. “You keep that sinfully luscious mouth of yours wide like that, babe, and you’ll have Preacher down on one knee pledging his everlasting love within a week.”

  “Y-you don’t mean that!” she cried.

  “Don’t I?” He twisted his lips into an ugly sneer, and all the pain and rejection burning inside him came out in a flurry of terrible words. “Don’t you go thinking you’re any different from the scores of other girls I bagged at the Clover. The only thing that sets you apart from them is the fact that you never got me off.”

  She stumbled back like he’d hit her, grabbing her throat. “I was right about you,” she choked, her strangled voice barely discernible above the pounding clatter of the rain. “You are heartless, and I don’t ever want to see you again…!”

  Yeah, he thought, glancing at her now, the guilt over how he treated her that day still as fresh as it’d been four years ago, convincing her I’ve changed and that she should take another chance on me is going to be far from easy.

  In fact, considering everything, it was a damned miracle she deigned to speak to him at all.

  But that was Shell for you. Sweet, forgiving Shell…

  “You’re more beautiful than ever,” he told her.

  “You’ve mentioned that already.” She rolled her eyes.

  He couldn’t help but smile, because every time she did that, every time she rolled her eyes at him, he had to fight like crazy not to reach over and drag her out of that lawn chair and onto his lap.

  Shit.

  And there went his mind again. It didn’t help that he’d spent the last four years yearning for her until he actually physically hurt. And now that he was here? Sitting beside her? Dude, he considered it a wonder he wasn’t foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog.

  And in the spirit of not foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog, he searched for a way to keep the conversation going, because just sitting here looking at her, he could definitely feel the old salivary glands gearing up to work overtime.

  He seized on the one thing he figured she’d be only too happy to discuss. “Your brother seems happy.”

  “Mmm,” she agreed, not picking up his tossed conversational ball, the wonderfully obstinate woman.

  He tried again. “Never thought there’d be a woman with the intestinal fortitude to handle Boss, but Becky must shit bricks.”

  “Crude,” Shell mused, sliding him a disparaging look, “but accurate. You did always have such a way with words, Jake.”

  He winked, and she rolled her eyes again.

  Rock finished with Kenny and started in on Fleetwood Mac—at least it’s not another country song—and Jake took the opportunity to rake in a deep breath as he wondered how to broach this next subject.

  “Shell,” he finally whispered. She turned to him, her eyes particularly stormy-looking in the firelight. Stormy-looking and sad. He hoped to help with that second part starting right now. “I want you to know how—”

  He was interrupted by a series of rings and beeps and tinny-sounding rock music that split the easy air in the courtyard as each of the Knights’ cell phones sprang to life.

  Boss dug his phone out of his hip pocket and held it to his ear, barking only one word, “Go.”

  The rest of the Black Knights deactivated their devices and waited for instructions. They weren’t long in coming, but Jake was surprised his name was the first one Boss called. “Are you carrying, Snake?”

  No sooner had the words left Boss’s lips than the hard punch of adrenaline surged through his system. “No. That big redheaded behemoth at the front gate frisked me before letting me in.”

  “Follow me,” Boss said with a jerk of his chin.

  “Roger that,” he came just short of snapping a salute.

  Yo, old habits die hard.

  He pushed up from his chair and trailed Boss to one of the little outbuildings surrounding the courtyard where the big guy pulled out a strange-looking key from the lanyard around his neck. Inserting it in a complicated lock, the door sprang open with a hiss.

  Okay, so…it was clearly an air-locked environment, which for a small, private defense firm seemed a bit over the top.

  What the hell are they hiding in there?

  Proof of extraterrestrial life? Documents exposing the truth behind President Kennedy’s assassination? A living, breathing, peanut-butter-and-banana-sandwich-eating Elvis Presley?

  Boss motioned him forward, and he hesitated a split second—just a split second, mind you, to prepare himself to be greeted by a colony of little green men—before peeking in the door.

  Um, okay, so no fat Elvis or bug-eyed aliens, but he totally grasped the need for air-tight security. There were enough munitions stored in the building to give all of Bravo Platoon boners.

  “Take your pick,” Boss said casually, as if it were no big deal to be in possession of enough weapons to outfit an entire division.

  “Should I be worried?” he asked, easily recognizing the hard look on Boss’s face. He’d seen it often enough during their years together.

  “Nah,” Boss shook his head, then seemed to rethink his answer. “Look, man, we just caught an assassin trying to set explosives near the western wall—”

  “Assassin?” Jake interrupted. “Good God, Boss, who’d you piss off this time?”

  His former CO shrugged, shaking his head. “It’s a long story, and I haven’t g
ot time to tell it. All you need to know right now is that there are an unknown number of guys gunning for us and though I’m confident of the security I have in place, I’d still feel better if you kept your eyes and ears open for the next few minutes while you look after Shell and Franklin for me.”

  “That’s a given.”

  Boss clapped a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, man. And, believe me when I say it’s not going to be an easy task, especially since I need you to convince Shell to stay out here while the rest of us go inside to try and find out what we can from this sonofabitch.”

  Jake glanced around the courtyard. “You sure it’s safe out here?”

  Boss nodded. “Right now it’s the safest place on the compound.”

  Jake took Boss at his word, trusting him to know his own security.

  “So, assassins, huh?” He shook his head and pointed a thumb overhead at the red-and-white-striped awning covering the courtyard. It hadn’t been there last night when he’d arrived from the West Coast. “I guess that’s why you guys unrolled canopy.”

  “Yeah. A little insurance against prying eyes. That’s also why I’ve been running around all day like a chicken with my head cut off and didn’t get the chance to welcome you back properly, man. For that, I’m sorry. So, I’ll say it now, I’m glad you’re back.”

  “I’m glad to be back.” And that was truer than Boss would likely ever know.

  Boss nodded and began to turn away. Then he hesitated. “And Snake? Just because I don’t think there’s any cause for alarm, that doesn’t mean—”

  “Enough said,” Jake raised a hand. “I’ll be totally frosty.”

  Boss nodded and took a deep breath. Then his face fell into a series of harsh lines. “You love her, right?”

  There was no need to ask who they were talking about.

  “I’ve always loved her. I’ll love her until I’m dead and buried.”

  “So what happened back in Coronado?”

  And though he’d known the question was coming, it still caught him by surprise. Especially given the timing. But okay…whatever. It seemed they were going to get into this. Now.