The American Soldier Collection 6: Their Masquerade (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  She started to walk away when L.T. raised his voice. She stopped in her tracks.

  “The third degree? Where the hell is the attitude coming from? I’m just asking because you’re our responsibility and you basically cut us off these last two years. Every time we tried to offer help, you declined.”

  She turned around and looked at him, giving him the once-over in annoyance, and it nearly backfired on her.

  “That’s your whole problem, L.T. You and the others. I don’t need you. I don’t need to be taken care of. I’m a grown woman and I have a life. Just back off.”

  He grabbed her hand to stop her from walking away from him. They locked gazes and damn did she feel the jolt of sparks shoot through her system. Her lips parted. He stared down at her and he couldn’t speak. He just stared at her.

  “I care. We care.”

  She needed to end this torture now. He just didn’t get it. The man was thickheaded and so oblivious to her desire for him. He was a blind fool.

  “You don’t get it, L.T. You never have, and you never will.”

  He released her hand as she took another step away.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “You figure it out. You’re a God damn Marine. It’s all right there in front of you. If you don’t get it, if you don’t feel it, then there’s nothing to talk about.” She headed back inside leaving him standing there. She wanted to growl in anger he’d gotten her so aggravated.

  As she opened the door and stepped inside, she smacked right into Axel’s chest. He grabbed a hold of her and sidestepped them to the wall, blocking anyone’s view of them.

  “I was wondering where you went. Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is fine.”

  “You know we’re here for you if you need anything. I’m sure it’s going to be tough coming back here after all this time.”

  She couldn’t believe this. Axel, too? They all still thought of her as a sister.

  “Axel, as I just informed the lieutenant outside, I don’t need your assistance with anything. Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a party going on, and your little sister would like to have some fun. That’s what us teenage girls do, ya know.” She snapped at him and stormed away. God help me not to punch one of them in the gut and tell them how I really feel. It would be a complete embarrassment.

  * * * *

  L.T. walked inside to see Mariah storming away from Axel. It seemed that even Axel had somehow pissed her off.

  “What the hell did you say to her out there?” Axel asked him, sounding accusatory.

  “I don’t know what the hell just happened out there. What did you say to her?” he asked Axel.

  “I asked her if she needed anything and told her that we were here for her.”

  “Yeah, well, that seems to be the thing to piss her off. I’ve never seen her so angry. She said something about me not getting it and seeing what was right in front of me.” Axel shook his head.

  “I think she hates us.”

  L.T. looked at Axel.

  “She doesn’t hate us. We’ll get to the bottom of this tomorrow.”

  “I think she’s just like most women. She’s got something on her mind and she won’t come out and say it. We’re supposed to figure the shit out and be mind readers,” Axel added.

  “I need a beer,” L.T. said and started walking toward the bar.

  “You ain’t kidding.”

  Chapter 5

  Mariah sat at the kitchen table with Uncle Jeb. They’d just finished lunch and Mariah was planning on heading into town. Her uncle was all bruised and battered and his arm was in a cast.

  “So, are going to tell me the truth about what happened to you, or are you going to continue to lie to your only blood relative?” she asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring at him. The kitchen still smelled of bacon from their BLT sandwiches on toast.

  He looked out toward the window, avoiding eye contact with her as usual.

  “I told you what happened.”

  “And you expect me to believe that some thug thought you were someone else when he roughed you up? Do I look stupid to you?” He raised his eyebrow at her.

  “What?”

  “You. Where’s that sweet little angel who left here two years ago all innocent and quiet as a mouse?”

  “Working my ass off the last two years and establishing a lucrative career in Europe has made me mature and worldly. So you can stop sugarcoating what happened and spit it out.”

  “It’s not your concern, Miss Worldly. And by the way, what did you say to L.T. and Axel to make then leave last night? They care about you.”

  “They don’t need to care about me. I’m not a child. I sure as hell wasn’t one when I left here either. They need to know that.”

  “Honey, those men know you’re not a child. Every damn male around could see that just by looking at you. You’re beautiful, Mariah. Your parents would be so proud, and Michael, too.” She swallowed hard and looked around the place. It hadn’t changed at all. She wasn’t surprised about the emotional feelings she had coming here. She kept thinking about Michael. She would use the emotions as fuel to accomplish her mission.

  “Well, I don’t need them to act like a bunch of big brothers. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I don’t need them.”

  “Well, maybe they need you?”

  She shot her head up to look at her uncle. He was watching her, and in that way that told her he was trying to read her mind and her body language. He had always been good at telling what was going on in her and Michael’s lives. Michael had confided in him a lot, but it was her that Michael told about distrusting those around her.

  “They hardly even called when I was away, and last night they were offering financial support and a place to stay as if I was their sister. I’ve got a lot of money saved, and I’ve had fantastic job offers. They have their lives and one another like always.”

  “They’ve had a hard time. Losing Michael was difficult to say the least. L.T., Deacon, Quentin, and Axel have a lot of fears and especially when it comes to you.”

  “To me? Why?”

  “Because they care.”

  “Yeah, well, I got that. It’s nice that they care.”

  “I mean, really care. They’re attracted to you, always have been.”

  She shook her head.

  “No. They don’t see me in that way. They never have. Besides, I’ve been meeting a lot of really nice men who pay me attention, and understand my wants. I can’t give affection to men who aren’t open to receiving it or who see me below their level.”

  “Below their level? Damn, Mariah, you might be worldly in your travels and living in Italy and advancing in your career, but you don’t know shit about attraction and love.”

  “Attraction and love?”

  “Life has thrown all of you some serious heavy hardballs, but each of you has survived. Perhaps giving those men a little understanding will help them admit to their attraction and act on it.”

  She pushed away from the counter.

  “I’m not having this conversation with you about them. Stop trying to play matchmaker. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. I have meetings this week, interviews at a few corporations in Dallas, and some parties to attend. We live in different worlds now. It would never work. So, let’s get back to the question you have so very sneakily avoided. Who messed you up and why?”

  He was silent and he wouldn’t tell her. She wanted to know if it had something to do with Michael’s death. Her gut told her it did. Her uncle was stubborn. It ran through their blood. He was probably trying to get information about DeLacruz. She couldn’t confide in him what she’d found out. He would insist that she stop and forget about it. That wasn’t happening. But as the silence drew on, she felt more unease.

  “Just promise me that you’ll be careful. Always be aware of what’s going on around you, and don’t be so willing to trust new people you meet.”

 
“I know that. Michael taught me well.” She didn’t mention her training by Gustavo, Sienna’s lover’s cousin.

  “Well, I’m going to head out for a while.”

  “Where are you going exactly?”

  “Just around. You know, seeing the old familiar places. I’ll be back in time to help prepare for supper.”

  “Bring your cell phone with you. Don’t be going anywhere without people around.”

  She turned to look at him, wondering why he was being so protective.

  “I’ll be fine. What’s up with the whole overprotective act?”

  He took a deep breath and released it as he ran his hands over his mouth and chin. He locked gazes with her.

  “Just be careful,” he said and she immediately got an uneasy feeling in her core.

  Was she in some kind of danger, or maybe Uncle Jeb and he didn’t want her to know? What was going on with him? Why wouldn’t he confide in her? Had the two years apart caused a wedge in their relationship? She hoped not because when all was said and done, she’d like to confide in him years from now with a success story, and the circumstances behind the real reason why she’d come back from Italy.

  * * * *

  L.T. picked up his cell phone as he looked over some files on the laptop computer. They had rented a house for the week, knowing that Mariah was visiting. They wanted to stay close by. They were concerned for her safety after everything that had happened to Jeb.

  His friend Jax Spaulding had called him with some information on transactions taking place between two companies. One dealt with government weapons and their creation and testing, another one, much smaller, was gaining heavy financial support from foreign companies, and was under watch by the government. Jax and Jameson knew that L.T. and the others wanted to identify their friend Michael’s killer. All they had to go on was info from the undercover operation that had seemed to turn into something bigger than any of them expected. Plans were being made to investigate further and send some undercover operatives inside. But it seemed that security on the place as well as information on the board members was nearly impossible to get ahold of. Their progress was slow. As soon as they headed back into Dallas, they would do some snooping around themselves. Deacon and Axel were already making plans.

  L.T.’s cell phone rang and he saw that it was Jeb calling. He answered the call.

  “Hello, Jeb, what’s going on?”

  “It’s Mariah. She left a few hours ago. I thought she’d be back by now. I’m worried.” L.T. was instantly concerned. But he also knew that Jeb was extranervous after the assault and the threats to Mariah.

  “I’m sure she’s fine. Where did she go?”

  “She said to visit old familiar places.”

  “I’ll call Quentin. He’s in town now. I’ll have him look out for the truck. Don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine.”

  “I don’t like this. Maybe I should tell her the truth.”

  “That’s your decision. It sure would make her more cautious.”

  “We’ll see. Maybe tonight. Thanks, L.T.”

  “No problem. We’ll be over in a couple of hours. I’ll call Quentin.”

  L.T. sighed as the uneasy feeling collided with his gut. He didn’t like having Mariah out of his sight either, but after last night, keeping tabs on her and getting her to let them help her seemed impossible. She’d changed. She actually thought she could take care of herself without them. He quickly dialed Quentin’s cell phone.

  * * * *

  Mariah sat on the bench with her legs crossed and pulled the heavy sweater tighter. It was cold outside, and she shivered, which helped to keep the tears away. She had visited her brother’s grave and saw the numerous items left, including a full bottle of beer. She chuckled to herself. That had to be from Quentin.

  She thought she heard a noise like leaves cracking, and as she turned, she spotted Quentin. He was carrying a six-pack of beer and headed right for her. She swallowed hard. The man did a number on her body even from afar after all this time. His tight blue jeans, cowboy boots, and dark Stetson were such a turn-on.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?”

  “Just catching up,” she whispered as he leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. He sat on the bench and placed the six-pack on the ground below.

  “So, how often do you come out here to share a beer with him?” she asked, and he smiled then looked toward where the grave sat.

  “Axel was here last night. I bet he left that one. Want one?” he asked her, and she nodded her head as he pulled out an opener and popped open the bottle of beer. It was kind of cold out for beer, but she sure could use a drink.

  Quentin guzzled almost half of the bottle down and then leaned back against the bench.

  “Been here long?” he asked.

  “Not really worried about the time.”

  “You should be. Jeb was worried. He called L.T.”

  She sat up, nearly dropping the bottle of beer.

  “Why would he do that?”

  “Like I said. He was worried.”

  She was annoyed but since telling these men she didn’t need them or their constant brotherly protection she decided to ignore the anger. She took a long drink of beer and leaned back.

  “It’s nice to have you back in the country. We were getting concerned about you.”

  He took a slug of beer.

  “Concerned? Why?” she asked, taking another slug. She looked at him and absorbed the smell of beer in the air combined with his cologne and that damn perfectly muscled chest below his cowboy shirt. The man was making her mouth water. She’d love to place her hands under his shirt, or down his pants, and finally see how big he really was. She shook her head and took another long slug. Maybe taking the alcohol through IV would be better. Sitting this close to him, not being able to touch him, was pure torture.

  “It’s our job. It’s kind of hard to keep a watchful eye over you with all the miles between us.”

  She looked away from him. “It was a good thing. I needed to establish my own life and make my own decisions.”

  “You could have done that here,” he said with a bit of an attitude. She looked over at him.

  “No, I couldn’t have. Not with people around directing me and telling me what I could and couldn’t do. It was a great opportunity, and Michael wanted me to apply for the grant. I always wanted to go to Italy, and travel.”

  Quentin finished off his beer and then reached down for another. She quickly polished off her beer, wanting to keep up with Quentin for some stupid reason.

  “We all come here whenever we’re in town. Michael meant so much to us. It’s like we don’t feel complete anymore,” he admitted. She turned toward him.

  “You shouldn’t feel that way. You have one another. The group of you work together, live together.”

  Share together. Don’t you want to share me?

  He turned toward her.

  “We do share a lot together. It makes things easier somehow,” he whispered then took another slug of beer.

  She did the same thing and stared out toward the cemetery.

  “He loved you guys a lot. I appreciate you four looking out for Uncle Jeb while I was away.”

  He sat forward.

  He locked gazes with her. “We would never stop watching out for Jeb, just like we won’t stop watching out for you.”

  There it was again. Smacked her libido right in the kisser, reminding her that they didn’t get it.

  She made a noise and then leaned back against the bench. She took another long slug of beer and felt the alcohol reach her veins, the cold liquid cool her heating temper.

  “So, are you still doing private jobs for the government or are you solely involved in the family livestock business?” she asked him as he stared at her.

  He answered her, and she was half-listening because she was absorbed in looking at his thighs, and how tight the denim stretched over his muscular thighs. She knew if she touched him, he would feel like steel benea
th her fingertips.

  She shivered as a small, cold breeze collided against her body. She looked straight ahead and nearly jerked forward when his arm ascended over her shoulders. He pulled her against his side, instantly warming her. She’d dreamt of this. Being held by one of them, all of them.

  Slowly she tilted her head up to look at him.

  “Why did you get mad at L.T. and Axel last night?”

  She wasn’t expecting that. What the hell did she expect? For him to kiss her, exclaim his hidden desire to have her. She cared about him so much, and wanted him so much, her mind jumped ten steps ahead, and she saw herself bent over the bench while naughty Quentin fucked her from behind. Her cheeks warmed up quickly, and she looked away. He had a reputation as a wild cowboy. He was crazy, sexy, and creative in bed. At least that was what she’d heard through the grapevine. She wanted that. She wanted to trust him enough to let him tie her to his bed and take what he wanted and needed to feel complete. But instead, she remained the lonely virgin, holding out for she didn’t know what anymore.

  He pressed his warm hand against her cheek and she was forced to look up at him. His green eyes darkened, his expression serious.

  “You think we shouldn’t care about you, worry about you?”

  She tried to turn away, but he adjusted his hold around her shoulders, his face inches from her own. Her breath was caught in her throat as he waited for an answer to his question. Quentin, with his green eyes, muscles everywhere, even on his neck, and his tan skin. He had tattoos, too. She longed to touch them, and trace them with her fingers.

  “I don’t need looking after. I can take care of myself.”

  “You may think you don’t need us, but you do. It’s a dangerous world out there, baby. You could get hurt,” he said and she lost her temper.

  “God damn it, Quentin. I’m not a child. I’ve been away for two years. Two damn years and look at me. Do you see a fucking child?” she yelled at him, and his expression suddenly changed. He looked so fierce, commanding, and, holy shit, lethal. He pulled her onto his lap. Her beer bottle and his fell to the ground. She straddled his waist as he cupped her face between his hands.