by Kira Blakely
At a red light, Cas’s stare fixes on something across the street. The light turns green, and the cars behind us are honking wildly. Some pass into the next lane and I count at least two middle fingers tossed our direction.
“Cas,” I say and he jerks, blinking rapidly, his foot pushing on the gas pedal. The car starts forward, but we’re no longer heading straight—we’re taking a hard left. The wheels squeal at the sudden lane change. Cas has cut off another car. Horns blare all over, and they’re not helping calm my racing heart.
Cas is zoned in on something in the distance. He presses on the gas, and the engine roars as we careen forward even faster. I cling to the oh-shit bar, waiting for the mystery to take its natural course. I’m also praying cops are not nearby; Cas is easily pulling twenty or thirty over the speeding limit.
“Cas…” I try again, hoping he hears me.
He doesn’t. But he does stop shortly after that, slowing the car, and parking alongside the curb. I’m about to point out the sign forbidding any parking, but Cas is out of the door before I can open my mouth. He rounds to my side, flinging the door wide. “Come on.”
I get out, taking his hand. He leads me through a neighborhood park. We cross to the other side, his steps slowing until we stop on the curb. I peer up at him, following his gaze to a sleek, silver SUV. It looks familiar. Then I realize it was the car he’d seen across the street, the one he’d been intently staring at.
“Do you know the owner?” I ask.
“I might,” Cas says cryptically. I’m surprised he replied.
Realizing I don’t know as much about Cas as I’d like, I blurt, “That’s an odd thing to say.”
It brings Cas’s gaze around to me. “I… He looks like someone I knew a long time ago.”
I smile then. “It’s a small world. Maybe it is this person you knew.”
Cas doesn’t smile. That’s my first indication that I’ve made a mistake. His face takes on a solemn, bordering grave, expression. “Not possible. This someone died.”
My apology is on my tongue when Cas snaps his stare back on the van. I look as well, even though my heart pangs from my error.
A man steps out. He’s got a dark beard hugging his face, darker sunglasses, and a Red Sox baseball cap.
Cas starts forward, and I glance at his morphed expression. Shock has drawn his eyes wide and furrowed his brows. “It can’t fucking be,” he mutters.
“It’s him?” I ask, interpreting Cas’s surprise.
“I’m going to fucking find out.” Cas is on the move, and he takes me along for the ride. When we’re halfway across the street, I see that Red Sox Fan is turned away, a phone pressed to his ear. “Laverne!” Cas calls.
Red Sox Fan spins in place, his face set on neutral, his glasses blocking out any telling emotion.
“Jacques Laverne?” Cas’s voice has taken on a hard edge. He’s not deterred by the lack of expression from the stranger. No whit of recognition comes off Red Sox Fan.
Just as I’m beginning to wonder if Cas has made a mistake, Red Sox Fan draws off his shades. He pins Cas with the brightest green eyes. “Who’s asking?”
Cas narrows his eyes, and then he moves closer, his hand tightening around mine. I squeeze back, needing to follow Cas through this sudden mystery.
“Major Jacques Laverne?”
Red Sox Fan squints. He’s still on the phone. “Do I know you, buddy?”
Cas stares for a beat, and then he says, “It’s me. Casimiro Felix.”
Red Sox Fan draws off and hooks his sunglasses in his shirt’s collar, and he lifts his baseball cap, his bright blue eyes taking Cas in. “I’ll call you back,” he says into the phone, before he tucks it into the pocket of his bomber jacket. He studies Cas hard, and then he nods. “Sergeant Casimiro Felix. Cas. In the flesh.”
“I can’t—” Cas cuts off, at a loss for words clearly. “How?” he breathes the question.
Jacques smiles crookedly. “How what? How did I survive my leg being bombed off? How am I standing in front of you?”
“All of it,” Cas says.
Jacques’s smile slips. “It’s a long fucking story, Sarge.”
“I’ve got the time.” Cas gives my hand a squeeze. “All the time in the world. Fuck, shit. I won’t be alone in wanting to hear this. Isaiah and Nolan will want to see you too. Come back with us. To the hotel. Eveningstar Hotel and Casino. All of us can be together in one room again. For old times’ sake.”
“Like I said, long story. You all must be busy as shit if that fancy Armani suit tells me anything.”
Cas shakes his head, laughing. His smile is wide, carefree, his voice holding in the happy tears he hasn’t shed. “Are you kidding? We absolutely got the fucking time for you, man.”
“Maybe I’m not ready to tell it,” Jacques deadpans.
Cas’s smile is gone.
I jerk at Jacques’s emotionless brush-off. It’s cold…but not as cold as this man’s eyes. War veteran and old buddy or not, I’m prepared to tell him to shove his rude attitude up his ass. Casimiro doesn’t need a jerk like Jacques in his life.
And the jerk beats me to the punch. Swiping a hand over his closely shorn hair, he says, “Then again, catching up doesn’t sound too bad at all.” He fits his cap on and plucks his shades from his shirt collar, resting them over his eyes again. “Sure,” he says with an easy smile, “set a date and call me.”
The men trade numbers.
Cas isn’t himself though, even as he accepts Jacques’s hand and they draw in for a side hug, clapping each other’s backs.
“Catch you around.” Jacques enters his SUV and starts the engine, pulling from the curb. As soon as his taillights turn the corner, Cas draws me along to cross the street. From the park we head to the hotel; no more surprise pit stops are made.
Cas pulls me through the foyer to his office. I’m not thinking it’s for another quickie. Cas doesn’t lock the door behind us, and he’s moving with a different kind of purpose. He heads around his desk, and I follow, spying the small safe he has tucked under the desk.
From what I can make out, there’s only one item inside—a black palm-sized box. He draws it out, shutting the safe and sitting in his office chair. “Come here,” he says, holding out a hand to me.
I perch on Cas’s lap, and he presents the box to me. Understanding he means for me to open it, I do and I startle. It’s the expensive wristwatch I’d nicked two months ago—the one Tyler had set his eyes on—the one he guilt-tripped me into lifting from Cas.
“I haven’t been able to wear it since…” Cas trails, and my heart hurts.
I shake my head, ready to shut the box and forget he handed it to me. What was his intent? To open up old wounds? I hated my actions, and I deserved being canned, but this—this is too much.
Before anger chokes me, Cas lifts the watch from its cushioned case. He strokes the face of it with his thumb. “It belonged to a good friend.”
My eyes snap to his, the fury evaporating. “I’m sorry,” I blurt, more horrified at my past action knowing now what the watch means to him.
Cas smiles, but it doesn’t reach the rest of his features. He passes the watch to me. “Turn it over,” he says, and I’m wondering if he heard my apology.
I flip the watch around, and I’m staring at an engraved dedication on the watch’s back casing. In elegant script it reads, Semper Fi – J.L.
“Jacques?” I say, knowing I don’t have to look up to confirm it.
“He told me to hold it for him. Then he told me to take it and pay off school debts.” Cas’s stare reaches beyond his spacious office. He’s stepped back into time. “We were surrounded by enemies. Ambushed. He gave the orders for me to sneak off with the intel we’d come for. No sooner had I left did a bomb go off. It was the last time I saw him and any of the others on my team.”
Cas shakes his head, his gaze finding me. He’s back in the present, and he’s plucking the watch from me, tucking it into the box and snapping it shut. F
linging it on his desk, he cups my face, staring into my eyes.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse, his gaze moving to my mouth. “I’ll be handing it to him soon enough. I won’t live in the past. Not when I have too much to live for in the future.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cas
Jade is asleep when I stir, not sure what has wakened me.
I’m spooning her smaller frame, her naked curvy body close to mine, lulling me into believing this could be more real for the both of us. She exhales a bit sharply, shifting in her sleep when I kiss her bare shoulder.
My arm is around her waist, possessively holding her captive to the bed. The truth is Jade willingly followed me in, like she has the last few nights. I’m not her captor. I’ll let her walk if she wants to leave me, only once I know she’s safe.
I reach backwards blindly until my hand closes over my phone. Confirming the early morning hour, I note the days of our holy matrimony. Five in total. Five nearly blissful days with my girl.
When did she become yours?
Since she accepted my marriage proposal, I’m ready to respond to that thought. Only it’s not the truth. Jade became my girl long before that. She became mine on Day One, I realize. The epiphany has me pulling my arm off her, sitting up in bed, and staring blankly into the dark.
I love her.
I love Jade.
It’s so obvious now, I shake my head and chuckle softly. I’ve deluded myself to think otherwise, but it has to be love. My palm falls over my chest, massaging the place over my drumming heart. I glance to my side, taking in the beauty of Jade’s curly hair and curvy body. Inhaling the sweet, citrusy jasmine of her shampoo and body wash, I commit it to memory if she chooses to leave me.
I reach for her, itching to stuff my face between her legs, to sink my stiff cock past her warm folds and fill her with my cum. Moreover, I want to do more than that, leave more of myself behind with Jade.
There’s no need to close my eyes to picture her belly swollen with my child. Creating a family with her feels more than opportunistic—it feels right, as though Fate had everything planned for us. It’s just that we were having a harder time of catching up to the obvious: namely that Jade belongs with me.
Letting my hand drop back onto my lap and over my half-chub, I watch her, holding back from doing more.
Jade has me all hot and bothered again, and I’m a bastard for wanting her so soon after waking her once already with my mouth on her pussy. I can’t keep waking her up every time I get hard for her, no matter my incessant fear about there being not enough time for us.
I leave her in the bed, grab my slacks off the floor where I hastily discarded them to get to Jade earlier, and head for the fridge. A bottle of red wine is in there, and I pour some, snagging the ingredients for a sandwich. I enjoy my two a.m. snack, watching for the open bedroom doors with a heavy heart.
I have to tell her.
It’s the only solution I can come up with. Jade won’t be impressed if I ask her to forget annulling our marriage. But perhaps I can woo her. The more I think of the challenge of making Jade aware of my love, the more it takes root.
By the time I’m loading my plate and wine glass into the dishwasher, it’s all I can think about. And I have to try, otherwise I’ll live with it haunting me. It’ll be worse than when I allowed Jade to walk away from me two months ago, both heartbroken and furious with how she stole from me.
I could have handled it better, I understand that now. Which is why I can’t let her leave. At least not until I’ve told her, made a grand gesture of sorts. As I plot how to do it, I don’t imagine anything will disturb my deep thoughts in my armchair.
So the fire alarm catches me by complete surprise.
I leap from my seat, my body rounding to stare at the door. The ringing is muffled but loud and persistent. My first thought is to get to Jade. Though it’s happened before and turned out to be an accident—someone opening a fire exit by mistake—I can’t take chances. I won’t make a mistake where Jade’s safety is concerned.
She’s sitting upright in bed when I join her, my heart thudding, body still tense from the startle of the alarm. She has the covers drawn up to her naked chest, her eyes wild and her mouth parting on my name. “Cas? What’s going on? Is it a fire alarm?”
“Sounds like it,” I say, holding up a hand. “I’ll just step out, check things for a second. Stay in bed.” I toss on a T-shirt and take my phone and suite key with me, leaving Jade with a quick kiss. It’s enough to carry me from her.
Outside, I’m not alone in the hall. There are eight suites on this wing of the hotel. Since each suite is the size of two ordinary rooms, we take up a lot of space. Seven other doors are open, and seven-plus patrons whip their heads my way.
“Mr. Felix,” the closest one says, a hoary-headed septuagenarian. “What’s the meaning of this? Is it a prank or a drill?”
“Or are we really up in flames?” his wife wonders, her hands working furiously to close the ties of her robe. She narrows her eyes, her rosy cheeks and snow-white tumble of waves clashing with the wrinkle of her nose and the disapproving curl of her mouth.
“Let me check-in,” I tell them, already on the phone and waiting for Nolan to pick up. His silence doesn’t bode well, so I try Isaiah. We haven’t spoken since he called Jade a gold-digger. My teeth clench at the memory.
But he does answer, thankfully. My elderly, temporary neighbors look ready to rip the phone from my grasp in their quest for peace and quiet.
“Fire exits were opened all over the building,” Isaiah says, his fatigue straining his voice. “We’re working on it.”
I let him go, not knowing how else to help. That’s when Nolan returned my call, interrupting my explanation to the other guests on my floor. “Hey, think you can spare a couple of your men to watch Jade? I want to be down there, helping you guys out.” I don’t mention how tired Isaiah sounded; Nolan’s happy for the trade.
Extricating myself from my grumbling neighbors, I head back into the suite and find Jade dressed and in the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea. So much for her staying in bed.
She sets down her cup, staring at me, anticipating an explanation for why the alarm is still wailing.
“No fire,” I tell her. “I’m just going to head down to help sort things out. Guests aren’t too happy.”
“And?” she says, knowing what I’m about to add.
“I’m stationing guards outside your door. They’ll do rounds of the floor for precaution’s sake.”
Jade frowns. “Is it Tyler?”
It’s my turn to stare, hating Wagner’s name from her mouth. I wish I could rid her of him, even though it’s an irrational desire—Jade has no feelings for the weaselly man. But I’m also not so sure if she cares about me the way I do. Does she love me?
“No,” I say firmly, clearing the thought of Jade’s love from my mind. I have enough on my plate to fret about hypotheticals…even if they’re starting to feel like life-and-death for me.
“He isn’t going to get too far in the building this time. Everyone knows his face by now.” I’m reassuring Jade. I don’t add if it’s Wagner causing trouble, that he’ll run into more hindrance than before. I’m cracking down on his ban from the hotel and casino.
I change in the bedroom, hating the confines of my suit. Too bad it’s one way of oozing authority without flaunting it. People sit up straighter when I’m dressed for business. Can’t say I still don’t feel like a fucking sausage.
Jade steps into my arms, meeting me at the door, holding me back for a moment. “Be careful,” she says.
“I will.” I brush the promise over her hairline, my lips lingering. I don’t want to leave her. I have to, though. Duty can be such a cock-blocking bitch.
She turns her face up and smiles softly, tiptoeing to connect our lips. I step back, before I can’t resist the urge to take Jade against the front door, lifting up her lacy teddy, and sinking her down onto my cock. “
Be good.”
“I…can’t promise that,” she teases, winking. She is so adorably clueless as to how hard she’s making this for me when the purpose of this sham marriage of ours comes to an end.
How can I let you go, Jade?
***
“There you are.” Nolan crosses the foyer, closing in on me and the front desk staff. There are five of us working the phones, calming agitated guests. Nolan gestures for me to come around the desk. He takes me aside, glancing over his shoulder to ensure we’re well away from the others.
“We’re still hunting down all of the fire escapes,” he says. “Thing is, we’ve also found activity on the security footage.”
I don’t get what he’s hinting at until—
“Wagner?” I ask, gritting my teeth.
Nolan nods, his face grim. “He wasn’t alone either.”
“Do you know which way they went?” My fingers flex into fists, my body primed for a hunt. I’m hoping I catch Wagner myself.
“No,” Nolan is saying, “and they scrambled our feed. Someone’s brought muscles and some mean technology this go round.”
“Damn,” I hiss. My immediate instinct is to head up to my girl.
Nolan holds me from running off, his hand falling from my arm when I glare at it. He’s getting in the way of me reaching Jade. “Don’t do anything stupid, man.”
“Stupid?” I echo, my chest filling out, puffing with anger.
“Let security handle Wagner and his friends.”
“You’ve let him slip in two times already, and I believe this is your third strike.” I narrow my eyes, daring him to challenge that truth. “I’ll let you do your job, and you’ll let me get back to mine. But you better hope I don’t run into Wagner.”
Nolan clenches his jaw, his arms crossing over his chest. “Stupid,” he repeats, shaking his head as I swivel from him. I don’t have time for this; I need to be with Jade.
I’m on the elevator when the lights stutter, winking and provoking a deep fear in me. Last thing I need is to be stuck on an elevator. Fucking shit luck.