That makes the crowd laugh, though most do not understand that part; I do, and so does Evie so that’s all that matters.
“More even than my own useless, stupid, moronic, inept pride. Evie honey, did I get that part right?”
The crowd laughs again, and I watch my girl preen and nod happily as I do this to the letter. “More, Peters! You’re not in the money yet, honey!” she yells, laughing up at me.
I grin at her mercenary little hide and shake my head at Jericho’s booming laugh of pride.
“I love you, and this is for you, baby.”
Singing is not my forte, nor is dancing, but as Justin Timberlake’s beat starts playing and the DJ grins at me—I’m sure my three hundred bucks is making him happy—I do it all just as I swore I would.
I can’t sing for shit and this boy’s notes are so high, I feel like a moron as I serenade her and pull her onto the stage beside me, her smile so wide I suddenly don’t give a shit that I’m making a fool of myself.
I sing and tell her how much she means to me, even as everyone starts laughing and dancing along with us.
By the time I’m done, Evie is beaming so wide her face looks pained.
“You. Me. Wallowing,” she purrs, her eyes shining with happy tears that make me feel ten feet tall.
The kiss I plant on her is just a precursor to what we’ll do later, but as I feel her kiss me back and whisper her love into my mouth, I know one thing.
I may be “the Blaze” as she calls me, but this woman, my woman, is all fire—
I’m just about to drag her off the stage with me when gunfire erupts in the large ballroom and people start screaming and running, the panic so intense I hardly have a chance to grab her and pull her toward the others and safety.
Chapter Seventeen
The Watcher
I’m still chuckling at the spectacle that fool just made of himself and feeling all kinds of envious as he ends his caterwauling and pulls her into a kiss that has the room sighing, when all hell breaks loose.
Dropping the drinks tray, I go for my weapons and dive for cover.
“Nicholas Storm!”
That voice, like a nightmarish blast from the past has me grinning, as I search out the guys and start laying cover fire while Lex tries to get a very pregnant Lenny and the other two women to cover.
Seems like my waiting may be over…
LANDING KING
Chapter One
Kinsley
The smell of brewing coffee and chocolate muffins is the only thing that keeps me from falling back into bed with a groan as the enormity of the next few weeks hit me.
I still have so many plans to put into place. My dress still hasn’t arrived from Italy, and the caterer is having a heart attack because people missed the RSVP deadline but are still calling to assure me they’ll be there.
I’ve seen movies and always laughed at the whole bridezilla thing, thinking that I would never be that person, but the closer the day of my wedding looms, the more inclined I am to start throwing fits and just have a meltdown.
How in hell are things this stressful and messed up when I’ve been meticulous about planning and keeping a schedule?
I’ll tell you how—my family. My dear, sweet adoring family has all gone out of their way to mess up my wedding since the moment they discovered that I wasn’t going to change my mind and cancel the big spectacle.
First, there was Mama and her subtle assurances that Daddy would have no problem losing the deposits, and then my daddy who actually out and out told me that my fiancé is a loser. That was a cracker of a conversation, let me tell you. Oh! And then there’s Lex, who seems to think it’s okay to just offer to kill “that man” as he calls Jon.
For some reason, one I have no idea about, they all dislike poor Jon enough that I’ve had mysteriously missing invitations, which I had to mail again, late. The caterers keep yelling at me to stop sending emails that change the menu when I haven’t, but I can’t argue since they appear to have come from my email account. And then there’s the freaking dress!
At this point, I’m willing to run away with Jon and have an Elvis-wannabe rock and roll me to wedded bliss. But that’s another problem.
You’re thinking I see them everywhere because I’m having cold feet, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I want to get married; it’s been one of my main goals for my life since I was old enough to start scrapbooking and making my life book.
The life book is my baby. It’s an actual book that contains a very well laid out course that I have plotted religiously since I was thirteen years old and realized I was one in the midst of many lunatics.
My family flies by the seat of their pants and believes that life is for living, laughing, and enjoying that grand adventure that just drops into their laps. I’m the odd one out with my need for order and the utter insistence that surprises are messy and will only ruin me later if I let them.
Which I don’t. I purposely live never to be surprised by a darn thing because that would knock me off course, and I need a course. I always have.
My brother, Lex, is my hero, and I love him, but the man is a mess of unpredictability. I just cannot understand how he lives the way he does. He never plans a thing unless it has to do with his job.
You’d think being Army—a freaking soldier, who was forced to live in a state of constant structure and order—he’d have learned that that way of life is the only way to ensure success, but no….
The man is a wreck. He doesn’t own an apartment, home, or even a car because he says being tied down isn’t his thing. Instead, he seems to hop from friend to friend, and then fancy hotels when he wants some alone time. He considers that a decent way to exist.
I could never do that. Oh no, not Kinsley Jacobs. I own my home, a little three-bedroom place three blocks from Mama and Daddy. I have a car that I paid off well before the last payment was due and a life that is perfectly sedate, just the way I like it.
I never digress from my schedule because to do so would be to incur disaster, and I cannot abide that thought. With that comes uncertainty, and once that happens, I start panicking and…
Let’s just say that I will never go back to those dark days when the smallest hint of failure would send me into a tailspin that resulted in medication and becoming the property of a head-jumbler till I hit my senior year in high school.
You’re confused? Let me explain.
I’ve always been a little OCD, Mama says, even when I was a toddler and scampering around the house in pink tutus and chocolate milk moustaches.
That—in and of itself—was not a bad thing since they all thought it was adorable the way I lined things up just so and threw a monumental fit if anyone messed with my things.
That continued into childhood though, and I have very unpleasant memories of not having one friend all through kindergarten and primary school because I was too high maintenance for most. Even my teachers avoided me if they could and used to call Mama all the time to get assurances I was fine “in the head.”
That led to middle school and then on to high school, too—and trust me that was a nightmare.
But it wasn’t always that way. See, I may have been a little cuckoo-kachoo when I was little, but it was manageable, and when given the chance, I did adjust and adapt and even made a few friendships after I turned ten.
It was all good. My friends understood that I was the nerd who did homework, brought packed lunches because of my unwillingness to contract E. coli from the unsound cafeteria, and just generally was weird about cleanliness and schedules.
No, I was relatively good to go and was even a happy child at that stage. I’d go into all situations ready to adapt and be what I had to be, with consideration for my neat freakery, of course, since I’m not an animal.
It all went pear-shaped and bit me in the ass the year Nana died though. My grief was complete, and though I tried to accept it and my parents went out of their way to comfort me, I went into somet
hing of a mania.
Nana, my nana, gone so suddenly changed my whole life. Gone was my joy and the desire to feel happiness. It was as if a black hole opened up and swallowed me whole.
I suddenly realized that nothing is guaranteed and, trust me, that was not ideal. I got scared when faced with the first signs of a person’s fragility and mortality, and it was…eye opening.
I eventually moved on to a place where my grief was manageable thanks to Mama, Daddy, and Lex’s unwavering love and support, but the damage was done.
I was already an obsessive person, we all get that, but with this tragedy I became crazed, trying to ensure that if I was eventually going to die—or God forbid, be struck down by a freak accident—that I would at least have lived and accomplished some of what I wanted.
So, I started the book—my little life plan with a twist.
I watched movies and took bits of every high school tale from it. Cheerleading? It looked fun, and popularity was all the rage back then, so I planned and sweated to ensure that I would land a spot when I made it to high school.
I also enjoyed the nerdy element of the whole thing, so I joined the mathletes, debate team, the choir, and the drama club. There wasn’t a thing I set my mind to that I didn’t accomplish, because I followed my plan.
I’d spend hours at night after dinner scheduling my next week down to the minute and ensuring that it all ran smoothly. Of course, with my life so full, it was completely necessary because a lot of what I did was sometimes in conflict with each other.
There’d be cheer practice to attend, but that would be held into the start of choir for the first five minutes, so therefore, I had to adjust my times to ensure I either left a little early or arrived a little late, which was torturous.
All that…
I turned into a bit of a machine to get it all done and gave my family fits about it. My people are “drop everything and hop into adventure mode” types. Not me. Poor Mama and Daddy would have fits when they got a hankering for a vacation out of the blue and I’d dig my heels in.
Eventually, they just stopped trying to force me and let me do my own thing. I spent a lot of my summers at camps to further my plans while Lex and the parents just up and flew all over the place, just because they could.
They’ve vacationed in Italy, France, Russia, Spain, and even went on Safari in Africa one year, while I kept my head down and stuck things out. If I was a little bummed to miss some of it, I forced myself to get over it because while it all sounded so great, it would mess with my plans.
Those plans got me to an accelerated program, and I finished off high school when I was sixteen and a half, whereby it became clear to Mama and Daddy that I was a force to be reckoned with.
I almost killed myself getting there, and thank you, Jesus, for Doctor Truman because without him or my prescription, I’d have likely lost my marbles and burnt out completely.
Mama and Daddy almost had fits but settled down real quick once I started college. I wanted to go for art originally, but I didn’t veer from my course, no matter how much the professors I spoke to shoved it at me. I have to admit, though, they were throwing a lot of perks at me just to consider the art program.
I stayed the course though—as I always do—and took accounting ethics and studied tax law just to ensure that my road would be smooth. And here I am today. I have a job that pays really well, and despite only being twenty-four, I’m a senior partner in my firm.
I’m engaged to Jon after six years of cultivating that relationship and doing it all right. He fits all the requirements. He has a good job as a lawyer in his father’s firm. He’s dependable, and best of all, I can control what happens in our lives down to the letter without any or much resistance at all from him.
I think he actually appreciates the order I bring to his life, and, okay, it may not be a grand passion or anything, but we do love each other and that’s all I need really. Dependability and enough love to ensure that I never have to have a contingency for a pesky divorce.
My phone rings just as I’m sitting down to my coffee and muffin as I do every morning except Mondays when I eat a balanced breakfast to start my week.
“Hello.”
“Kins, babe, you’re up.”
I laugh at Lex’s unsurprised grunt, his form of ribbing me, I think, since he knows I never sleep past seven, no matter what.
“Uh huh, and to what do I owe this hallowed call, since I know you’re in that silly little town and spreading yourself thin when you’re not harassing your friends?”
I laugh, but the reminder of his friends—one in particular—makes my heart speed up and give a pained little thump just thinking of King. I haven’t allowed myself to think of him since I turned eighteen and made a huge idiot of myself for him, but sometimes—no matter what I do—he manages to creep in. Like now.
“I’m just calling to shoot the breeze, babe. Can’t a big brother love his little sister enough to call for no reason?” he teases, making me smile.
“Sure. If I thought you had breeze to shoot, Lexington Jacobs. Seriously, what’s up?” I ask, finishing my muffin to concentrate on my coffee while ignoring the oncoming headache that’s beating at my temples.
Stress. Stress headache and then, eventually, a migraine that will have me sickened and unable to move if I don’t do something about all the tension that’s bombarding me.
The line is silent for a while, and I sit patiently, not saying a word as I let Lex gather himself for what I know will be another attack on my future. Not that I mind all that much anymore. The truth is…I’m used to it, but I’m not exactly in a good place at the moment so I don’t need it.
“Kins, honey, please just consider putting it off for a little while. You’re so focused on what you think you want that I don’t believe you know what that truly is. Jon is not the right man for you, and you know it. You’re just too damned stubborn to admit it.”
His tone suggests anger and maybe a little desperation, and I really, really want to say something right now that will make him feel better, but that won’t happen. I know Lex, and the only thing he’d settle for right now is total compliance.
I won’t give that; no matter how right he could be. I say “could” be, not that he actually is, but you never know—
“Kins…”
Oh, here comes the wheedling and that cajoling voice that is probably followed by his naughty grin, the one no woman save for Mama and I can resist.
“Lex, big brother, you know I love you and adore everything about you, no matter how I feel about your scattered life, but I won’t cancel my wedding. The invitations are out, the day is set in stone, and I have three weeks of fine tweaking before I get to walk down the aisle. I love you but the answer is no. You and Daddy just have to take a page out of Mama’s book and settle it in your hearts that I choose Jon, and I will marry him.”
“That boring, opportunistic little fucker? He’s an ass, Kins. He’s all wrong for you, and you know it. Where’s the happiness and spontaneous love my baby sister deserves? Where’s the joy? For God’s sake, Kinsley, he only sleeps with you on a schedule! That just ain’t natural! A real man who loved you wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you, but that little turd is satisfied with having you pencil him into your diary? Do you tell his dick when to get hard? Does he even have one?”
I gasp at his crudeness and feel the slow simmer of emotions that I always try to keep in check bubble up to the surface, making my fist clench to stave off the yelling I know will result from this.
I don’t want to yell and argue; it’s messy, and I end up feeling all out of sorts when it’s all said and done, while Lex probably just shrugs it off and skips right along, onto his next unplanned adventure.
Damn him to hell.
“You listen to me, Lexington, and listen well because I am sick and tired of saying the same thing over and over again. Jon and I are getting married. We fit. We have the same views and the same life goals, and that is just the way
I like it. If he’s a little soft and easy to manage, well that’s just fine since I don’t need a big hunk of testosterone in my life unsettling everything. And I certainly do not need to have you yelling crudeness at me at seven thirty in the morning. I’m getting married three weeks from today, and I won’t change my mind. You either accept that or don’t bother coming to the wedding.”
“What? But Kins—”
“No. This is my choice. I love Jon, and he loves me, and we’re happy with each other. That’s all I need, Lex. I don’t need adventure or spontaneity, and I certainly do not need to be canceling my wedding just because you don’t like Jon. You don’t have to spend the rest of your life with him, I do, so butt out and just try—for once—to be happy for me instead of always seeing all the ways that I am wrong.”
“Dammit, I don’t see everything you do as wrong. I just don’t think this specific step is right. He’s an idiot, and you deserve better,” he huffs, blowing out a breath. “You know, you have another option. King—”
“Is not up for discussion, Lex. Not ever. He made himself clear. I was young and naïve and things just—”
“But you could—”
I end the call before the last word can lead to more and close my eyes against the pain that threatens to engulf me just at the reminder of that man and everything I felt once, long ago.
Brett King was my one adventure when I was too young and stupid to realize that danger lurked there. I fell for him the moment my brother dragged him home, when I was sixteen and working feverishly to speed up my life and achieve what I wanted to.
He breezed into my life with his gray eyes, messy blond hair, and that naughty smile that had the power to melt me and make me forget every plan I’d ever made.
I fell hard and fast and floated around with a crush for months on the smiling soldier, who loved to tease me and never hesitated to be in my face and making fun whenever he and Lex were home.
For that one time in my life, nothing mattered but him, and it nearly broke my heart when they were shipped out and I was left alone again. I pined, but I forced myself to move past it when I started classes, and I even managed to pretend that I wasn’t just waiting for him to come home.
THE WATCHERS: 6 Military Romance Bundle Page 45