Men of Mercy: The Complete Story

by Cross, Lindsay

  Next, Amy peeked in on Artie, fast asleep in the guest room. He lay curled on his side, too small in that large bed. She’d had Ranger bring some of Artie’s toys and clothes from his house, hoping to make him feel more comfortable. But the room screamed guest, not family. And even though he technically wasn’t family yet, she intended to make sure he felt at home. A fresh pang of sadness hit her and she teared up again. Get it together girl. Pedro would be fine. Bo would find him safe and sound and their lives could pick up like before.

  Only Pedro had been missing over a week now. She knew enough from the crime drama TV shows that once a person was missing over forty-eight hours, the likelihood of them being found safe was slim to none.

  “Everything okay?” Ranger appeared behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Amy leaned back into his body, needing to borrow some of his strength.

  “I’m worried about Pedro.” And Artie. And her job. Without Pedro’s help, they might all be homeless in a few months.

  “Come with me.” Ranger’s hand slid down her bare arm and his fingers tangled in hers. She let him pull her from the bedroom and into the living room, where he pulled her down on his lap in the recliner.

  She curled up and rested her head in the curve of his shoulder. He felt so right. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him until she forgot about all her worries.

  “Talk to me, baby.” His chest rumbled beneath her cheek, sending a delicious vibration through her body.

  “It’s been almost a week and still nothing. How much longer will Bo look before he has to call off the search?”

  Ranger sighed and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her tighter against him. “I don’t know. But I’ve got my team looking, too. I really expected to find him at the Lobello’s place. Something isn’t adding up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if Santos took him, he would either have dumped the body nearby or kept him alive to sell on the black market. So far, neither of those possibilities have panned out.”

  “There’s a lot of woods around here, is it possible he escaped and is out there somewhere hurt?” She was reaching but she couldn’t wrap her head around Pedro being dead.

  “Maybe.”

  “You don’t believe that?” His voice held too much doubt for her to miss.

  “Bo has one of the best blood hounds in the south. That dog can track a tick from a mile. I think that if Pedro, injured and bloody, were out there, Bo’s dog would have found him by now. Or someone on the force would have found him. Injured men leave lots of trails.”

  Would they ever catch a break? “I know you’re right, but I’m not ready to give up. Maybe Santos had another location he was keeping people.”

  “If he does, we’ll find him. Hoyt handles all of our techy stuff. He’s been keeping an eye on all their known hideouts through the satellites from headquarters. My team, and the ATF, have been questioning all the hostages to see if they remember him. If he’s out there, we’ll find him.”

  “Thank you. I know you don’t have to do all this, help so much. I want you to know how much I appreciate it.” That bone weary tiredness started to return and Amy yawned.

  Ranger slipped a finger under her chin and tipped her head up. “I do it because I care about you.”

  He pressed a kiss to her lips. More of a gentle caress. Not asking for anything. A simple and sweet kiss. “And because my happiness is tied to you.”

  Ranger let go and she dropped her head back to his shoulder, lifting her fingers to trace her lips. He didn't ask more than she could give.

  “How was work today?”

  She shut her eyes and enjoyed the way he felt beneath her. “Awful. I didn't realize how much Pedro did for me. Having to refuel and reload the plane myself is cutting my time in half.”

  Ranger stroked her hair, the soft tickle as he pulled the strands lulling her eyes to half-mast. “You should've called me. I would've helped.”

  “No way.” He was already doing way too much. She didn’t feel right, having to ask him to help out so much. She snuggled deeper, burying her face in the crook of his neck. The man smelled divine.

  “Hard headed woman. You should let people help out. You know that saying, no woman is an island.” Every time he spoke, her senses purred with pleasure. Ranger started massaging her scalp and Amy didn’t even try to fight the groan. “Artie helped out a lot around here. He’s a good kid.”

  “Mmm.”

  “Chloe too, but you should have warned me how fast she can crawl.”

  “Tried to warn you,” Amy mumbled, unable to keep her eyes open another second.

  Chapter 28

  Amy fell asleep in his arms. Ranger knew he should get up and put her in bed, but he wanted to hold her. Feel her body against him. The wash of contentment that came over him surprised him. He’d never sat and held a woman before. In the past, with the few women he’d been intimate with, he’d had a goal. Get his pleasure, give her hers and get out. He’d never stayed and slept with a woman. Never played with her hair, thinking about how silky it felt. Never studied a splash of cute freckles across her nose.

  He’d never loved a woman before now.

  Ranger knew he would never find this complete package with anyone else. Someone who could light his blood on fire in an instant and cool him down in the next second. This woman didn't need him to take care of her, she was more than capable of taking care of herself, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to give her the world.

  He respected her tough side. She got the job done, no matter how tired she was. And Lord was she hard headed. Determined to earn her place. She was a fighter. And fucking sexy as hell when she was mad.

  As much as he loved her strength, he yearned for her softer side. For those moments like tonight, when she was vulnerable and sweet. He wanted to hold her and promise her that he would always be here for her. No matter what.

  Amy Carter was an enigma of sugar and spice. She fought with every fiber in her body for her home and her life. And he knew she would love just as fierce.

  She let out a soft snore against his neck. Ranger sighed. He recognized that kind of snore. He’d bunked with enough military guys over his life to recognize exhaustion.

  She needed a bed and a good night’s sleep. Ranger eyed the crutches leaning against the wall next to him. He’d been able to carry Chloe around all day today without too much pain in his leg. But Chloe was a baby. Amy, although small, was a full-grown woman.

  The bum leg was a damn nuisance. There was no way he could pick her up and carry her the few feet to her bedroom. If he was honest, he was happy with her right here, snuggled against him.

  Ranger grabbed the recliner pull and leaned the chair back. He didn't have a choice. He wasn’t willing to wake her. And he couldn’t carry her. Looks like the chair was it for the night.

  She’d worked too hard today. He had no intention of letting her do it alone again tomorrow. The woman thought she had to do it all by herself. But Ranger knew better. A good soldier knew how to support himself, but an even better soldier knew when to call in reinforcements.

  If it wasn't for his bum leg, he'd be out there in a heartbeat, even if he had to strap Chloe on his back in one of those baby carrier thingies. But as it was, crutches and all, he would probably get in the way more than help. So he settled for the next best thing.

  Out of their entire team, either Aaron or Riser had to have some experience in this arena. And those two were usually together. So he called Aaron.

  “Don't tell me the door screwed up?” Aaron said without a greeting. Thanks to Ranger’s bum leg, he’d had to call in reinforcements to help hang Amy’s new door. Aaron, Riser and Merc had all shown up to do the task.

  “Come on, how can you screw up a perfectly good door?” Ranger said.

  “Just checkin’. What's up, man?” Aaron’s drawl was definitely longer, more southern, with a distinct Texas twine.

  “Riser there?”

  �
��Yep.”

  “Either of y'all know your way around a crop-duster?”

  “Not me, if it don't have hooves and horns and go moo, I can't help. Hold on, I'll ask the rest of the team.” Ranger heard Aaron pull the phone away and repeat his question. A few seconds later, he got back on the phone. “You’re in luck, brother. I happen to have one big son of a bitch right here that can help you out.”

  Ranger sagged in relief, he knew either Aaron or Riser could handle the situation. “Great. Tell Riser to be out here at sunrise.”

  “Well, I can tell him, but he doesn't know shit about crop-duster's.”

  Ranger stilled and lifted his head. “Who then?”

  Ethan grew up in the city, on the streets. Merc grew up who the hell knew where. The man spoke only when necessary and even then it was mainly grunts or one-word responses. He killed as easy in hand-to-hand combat as with a weapon. Aaron and Riser were the only ones who had grown up in the country.

  Ranger heard the phone shuffle. “Aaron?” If that asshole hung up on him...

  “I'll be there.” The line went dead. Holy mother of God. Merc. The man scared the shit out of assassins and terrorists. Ranger sure as hell didn't want him around Amy.

  * * *

  Ranger woke to the beeping of his watch alarm. Five a.m. The sun didn’t even shine at this ungodly hour. This before sunrise stuff sucked.

  But it would suck a whole lot worse if he wasn't sleeping next to Amy. He’d kept his touches to G rated, knowing how exhausted she was, and lain awake half the night with the most painful raging hard on of his life. Her scent surrounded him. Her soft skin caressed him. He bit back a groan and gently nudged her awake.

  “Rise and shine.” For the past week, they’d gone no further than some heavy petting. He reacted worse than a horny teenager. His every waking thought was about her. How her hair felt like silk sifting through his fingers. The exquisite taste of her lips.

  Amy grumbled and rubbed her eyes. “Morning.”

  “Go get dressed, I’ll make you some breakfast.”

  “Okay.” She got up and walked out of the room, still half asleep. Ranger grabbed his crutches and used them to help him stand.

  He went to the kitchen, put on some coffee, and pulled out some bacon and eggs and pancake mix, determined to make her a big breakfast to get her through most of the day. He grabbed some sliced turkey and bread too. He’d be danged if he’d let her work all day with no food again.

  A little while later Amy appeared in the doorway, dressed in blue jeans and the formfitting muscle shirt. Her heavy breasts strained against the gray material. His mouth watered, remembering the taste of her nipples in his mouth. He couldn't tear his gaze away, watching in fascination as those very nipples beaded and hardened.

  “Ranger.” The huskiness in her voice hit him with another bolt of desire. Shit. Get it together man. Merc would be here anytime and she had to get to work, but all he could think about was lifting up that shirt and devouring her pretty nipples.

  Ranger cleared his throat and turned away, flipping the last batch of bacon in the skillet, and briefly contemplating grabbing a cup of ice water to pour down his pants. She touched him, feather light on his arm, and he jerked.

  He quickly removed the bacon from the pan, set it to the side and turned off the heat. Then he faced her and immediately had to stop himself from groaning. Desire glowed in her brown eyes. Her plump lips parted and begged for him to taste. “Amy, you've got to quit looking at me like that.”

  She smiled an impish up to no good smile. “Why is that exactly?”

  Ranger wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, pressing himself against her belly. Her eyes widened in shock. Good. “That’s why. If you don’t stop looking at me like you want to devour me, I’m going to lose control.”

  “Now, why don’t you quit poking the bear and make yourself a cup of coffee?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Amy's words were followed by a knock on the kitchen door. Her brows swooped down, “What on earth?”

  “I got it.” Ranger hobbled past her, cursing the fact that he hadn't put on a shirt yet and there was nothing to disguise the aching bulge in his shorts. He yanked open the door anyway. Merc, the big son of a bitch, stood on the concrete patio, both feet planted on the ground. Hands clasped behind his back. Elbows out in a classic call to attention. Only Ranger would be damned if the man ever took orders from anybody.

  Ranger stood tall at six foot four, but Merc had at least another inch on him. He let his dark hair grow a little past a buzz cut, blending in with a thick beard. Heavy muscles bulged from beneath his T-shirt, pulling the material taut. “You're early.”

  Merc glanced down. “Am I interrupting something?”

  Hell, yes you’re interrupting something. Ranger felt Amy's presence behind him and took a breath. His friend was here because Ranger had asked for his help. His dick would have to wait. Ranger stepped to the side. “Merc, this is Amy.”

  “Ma’am.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Her gaze cut to Ranger. “Everything okay?”

  “I knew you needed some help and Merc here knows his way around a hangar. He volunteered to help you out.”

  Amy's gaze traveled up the entire length of Merc. Ranger saw her visibly swallow. “How nice of you, but I don't need help, really. I could never ask you to do something like that.”

  “It's done,” Merc said and stepped inside. They both watched as he pulled out a seat at the kitchen table and sat down, stretching his long legs out in front of him. The man made the entire kitchen seem too small.

  “Well then, looks like you're in time for breakfast.” Amy went to the kitchen, leaving the two men at the table.

  “Smile or something. You’re scaring her.”

  Merc turned his black eyes to Ranger, and he repressed a shudder. Asshole. He knew exactly what kind of effect he had on people.

  “Want some coffee?” Amy asked from the other side of the island.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Merc answered, still staring at Ranger.

  “Cream and sugar?” Amy said.

  Ranger bit the inside of his cheek. No way Merc put anything in his coffee, except maybe some battery acid.

  Then Merc surprised the ever loving shit out of Ranger. The man smiled, not that small side smirk he was so good at, but a real one that showed all of his teeth. “Sounds wonderful, thank you.”

  Holy crap.

  “Ranger, don't just stand there, fix your friend a plate.”

  Chapter 29

  Saturday morning Amy woke and rolled over in an otherwise empty bed. Ranger still refused to do more than kiss and touch. He slept on the couch every night, giving her time and space. And she’d had enough. She wanted more from him. She wanted all of him.

  She sat up and grabbed her phone. Ten a.m.? She jumped up from the bed in alarm. She’d never slept this late. Never.

  Amy raced from the room. Chloe never slept this late. What kind of mother doesn’t hear her child cry? Surely she had cried out this morning.

  She flew down the hall in record time only to hear a choking sound coming from the nursery. Her heart raced in her chest like a thoroughbred racehorse. Amy skidded to a stop in the nursery doorway.

  Ranger had Chloe at the changing table. The choking sound wasn’t coming from her daughter, but from the six foot four Special Forces operative bending over Chloe as she cooed and giggled and squealed.

  The lower half of Ranger’s face was hidden beneath a dishtowel that he had somehow secured around his nose and mouth with clothespins. Amy’s elbow length pink cleaning gloves were on his hands.

  Ranger gagged, his frame bending. Then he lifted a dirty diaper, toed open the wastebasket nearby and dropped the diaper, making sure to hold it out as far from him as possible.

  Once that part was over, he grabbed a wipe from the warmer and gently swabbed Chloe’s bottom, managing to finish the task with only a few more coughs. At this point, Amy could no longer hold i
t in. She grabbed the frame of the door and doubled over in laughter. Ranger turned, and all she could see was the surprised expression in his gorgeous blue eyes

  “I thought you military guys were supposed to be tough. How on earth did you do this all day yesterday?” Amy could barely get the words to her lips without shaking. She couldn’t stop laughing. She clutched her chest and tried to suck in a breath.

  She couldn’t see the lower half of his face, but she knew he was glaring. “I can handle explosives and guns and killing. But this... this is just wrong. How can such a cute little baby produce something so awful.” His voice was slightly muffled by the dishtowel.

  Amy approached him, lifted the towel and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Thank you for letting me sleep in.”

  His eyes darkened with pleasure. “You were exhausted. Apparently Artie is too, cause he’s still sleeping. I figured me and Chloe could hang out. But she needs to come with a warning label.”

  He knocked a chink into the concrete surrounding her heart, but instead of a crack, it opened up one giant pothole. And not a regular pothole either, the potholes that knock a car completely out of alignment.

  Ranger staying here every day, taking care of the kids and the house wore on her. And not in a bad way either. She thought it had started out as a sense of obligation, but now when he looked at Chloe there was real love in his eyes.

  Love Shane never got the chance to experience. Her heart clenched, choked and restarted. No. She wouldn’t cry. Not again. Look forward, Amy. Move forward. Chloe didn't need a mother locked in the past.

  She needed laughter. She needed love.

  And she needed a father.

  Amy reached behind his head, popped the clothespins open and gently pulled the dishcloth from around his face. His handsome features hit her hard, stealing her breath. Would she ever get over how good looking this man was? Everything about him was appealing.