In the Line of Fire: Hot Desert Heroes, Book 1

by Jett Munroe

  “You shouldn’t have to.” He came forward and cupped her face gently in his hands. “I’m not used to anyone, a woman, caring about me. I overreacted.” He placed a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  She stared at him. She wasn’t used to getting an apology from a man who’d been wrong, for one thing. For another, it struck her that here was a forty-two-year-old man who, before her, didn’t have anyone to worry over him? That wasn’t right.

  “You’ve never been married?” she said.

  His eyes narrowed just the tiniest bit. “No,” he answered slowly, his tone clearly indicating he wondered where she was going with this and was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it.

  “Why not?”

  “Why not?” he parroted.

  “Yes, why haven’t you been married before? You’re over forty. By your age most men have been married at least once.”

  Beck dropped his hands and studied her. She didn’t appear to be upset, just curious. He really didn’t want to talk about this, the past was the past, but she looked like this time she wouldn’t let the subject drop, so he said, “I was engaged before. In my thirties. It didn’t work out.”

  “Why not?”

  Again with the why-not. He bit back a sigh. “She thought me being in special ops was a lot more glamorous than it was. I came home wounded once, spent a month in the hospital with a drainage tube comin’ outta my lung. Blood and pus was too real for her and she bailed.”

  Delaney’s luscious lips pressed together and red shot across her cheekbones. Clearly she was working herself up. He shifted his weight. For being as shy as she was, the woman clearly possessed some backbone. It beguiled him. It pleased him. And it made him wonder how many layers he’d have to peel back before he got all of her.

  “That…that bitch!” she yelled.

  “Laney—”

  She slashed a hand through the air. “No! I don’t even know her and I can tell she’s a bitch. How could she leave you when you needed her the most?”

  “It was a long time ago, babe.” Six years ago, to be precise.

  “I. Don’t. Care.” She crossed her arms and glared. “Knowing this does not make me happy.”

  He fought back a grin. “Yeah. I got that.”

  “You probably don’t even trust women now,” she cried with another hand slash. “Why would you? Ms. Bitch ruined it for the rest of us.”

  He couldn’t stop his chuckle. Fuck him. She was cute all riled up.

  “It’s not funny!”

  “You are.”

  She glowered at him. “I. Am. Not.”

  He drew her into his arms, tightening his embrace when she resisted. “Baby,” he murmured, “I don’t know how to tell you this because it does not bode well for you in the future. I think you’re beautiful anytime, but when you’re mad, you are fucking gorgeous. And funny.” He kissed her lips and went on, “It was a long time ago. It didn’t emotionally scar me. I just hadn’t met a woman I wanted to put much effort into before you.”

  She settled down, appeased for the moment. “Still,” she grumbled, apparently not entirely ready to give it up.

  In order to take her mind off it, as well as to get them both out the door, he reminded her, “Work.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh my God.” She looked to the carriage clock on the mantel above the fireplace. “I’m going to be late!” She tore out of his arms and grabbed her purse. “Come on, Beck. We’ve got to go.”

  He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” He followed her to the front door but stopped her when she would have swung it open. “But, first, there’s something I have to do…”

  He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him while at the same time he walked forward, moving her until her back was against the door. He slipped his other arm around her waist and tightened it, yanking her closer to his body. Letting go of her hand, he slid his fingers into her hair to cup her skull and tip her head to the side. He slanted his head to the other side and slammed his mouth down on hers.

  She moaned, a sound of arousal and surprise, and melted into him as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. Another moan that fueled him. He carried on. She tasted like mint. Sweet, fresh and clean.

  Beautiful. Nothing more beautiful in this world than the woman in his arms.

  Needing more, he deepened his kiss. She pressed closer, giving it to him. One arm went under his, her hand gripping his shoulder from behind. The other hand slid up his chest, curving around the back of his neck, slender, warm fingers curling into his hair. Then she gave him even more, her tongue sparring with his, fingers digging into his scalp and shoulder.

  He took all she had to give, shoving her gently into the door, forcing her curves to mold to his harder frame. After too-few moments, knowing if he didn’t stop he wouldn’t be able to, he tore his mouth away from temptation and rested his forehead against hers. He opened his eyes to see her lids drifting up in a sexy flutter that still, fuck him, managed to look cute.

  He held her pinned between his body and the door for another second or two, then slowly eased away, keeping his hands on either side of her waist to hold her steady.

  He cleared his throat. “Work,” he reminded them both.

  “Like I’ll be able to focus on work after that,” she groused with a scowl that wasn’t quite up to being as ferocious as she probably thought it was.

  He grinned and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. Moving backward, he shuffled her out of the way and pulled open the door.

  “Will I see you later?” she asked softly, reaching up to swipe her thumb across his lips. “Lip gloss,” she whispered. She didn’t even bother to try to fix her hair where he’d had his hands in it. He loved that about her.

  Beck gave a nod. “How about I take you out for dinner?”

  She rolled her lips in then. Staring over his shoulder, she said, “Um, how about I fix dinner here? You could, um, stay the night again.”

  He liked that idea. A lot. “Works for me.”

  She smiled, meeting his eyes. For that, he had to kiss her again, a quick, hard buss that was affectionate more than passionate. She was locking the front door when she muttered, “Oh crap. The quilt,” and pushed open the door to reach inside and grab a plastic bag.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  “It’s a child-sized quilt I made for the women’s shelter.” She adjusted her grip on the plastic handles.

  He’d known she had layers, but this surprised him. It seemed like such an old-fashioned hobby to have. While she might be shy, she didn’t strike him as all that old-fashioned. “You quilt?”

  She lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. Between that and the bashful look on her face, he could see she was uncomfortable at having his attention on something she’d made. “I make them for kids at the women’s shelter, but only by machine. I don’t quilt by hand.”

  “Like that’s a bad thing? Seems to me women would’ve done quilting by hand because they didn’t have sewing machines.” He cupped her jaw. “Baby, I think it’s a great thing. Helping kids in need.”

  A flush rose over her cheeks. “Thanks.”

  “Can I see it?”

  She pulled fabric out of the bag and began to unfold it. He reached out, grabbed the lower corners, and stretched the quilt out between them. It looked like a complicated pattern to him, and the bright colors were fantastic. “It’s gorgeous, darlin’. Looks like a lot of work.”

  “It is, but it’s worth it. Keeps me busy.” A slight blush tinged her cheeks.

  He helped her fold it up again and waited while she put it back in the bag. After she locked the front door, he walked her to her car. He waited again while she popped the trunk and placed the quilt inside then held her door open as she settled behind the wheel. “Drive safe, baby.”

  “You too,” she murmured.


  He closed her door and headed to his SUV parked at the curb. Giving her time to back out of the carport and onto the roadway, he pulled away from the curb and followed her to the end of her street. She turned right and he did as well. At the light, she made a left and he continued straight, counting the hours until he’d be with her again.

  Chapter Six

  Beck kept glancing in his rearview mirror, watching Delaney’s car get farther and farther away until he could no longer see it. As he made a left turn onto Broadway, which would take him downtown to his office and home, he caught a glimpse of a light-blue sedan two cars behind him. He’d seen the same car or a similar one parked in the parking lot of Coffee & Confections on numerous occasions. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe not.

  His line of work had taught him to dismiss nothing, so rather than drive directly to his building, he took a circuitous route that had him meandering down one-way streets. His pulse picked up as he drove faster, turning down several streets, weaving in and out of downtown.

  After fifteen minutes he no longer saw the sedan. Giving himself a few more turns to be sure he’d lost it, he then continued on. He drove into the small lot behind his building and parked beneath the ramada.

  He grabbed his suitcase and garment bag out of the back and pressed the control to lock the SUV. As he walked toward the building, he pulled his phone from his pocket. He scrolled to the number he wanted and, when he got voice mail, said, “Buddy, I clocked you following me at oh-seven-thirty. Lost you by seven-forty-two. Time to come out into the light.”

  He grinned. Ending the call, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and thought about the man he’d just left the message for. Alexander Kemp, known to those in the business simply as Shade for his ability to melt into the shadows, to not be seen unless he wanted to be.

  He’d met Alex in grade school and they’d immediately become fast friends. They grew up together, literally after his parents died and he went to live with the Kemps, and had even chosen similar career paths. While Beck went into the Marine Corps, Alex had chosen the army. First, the Rangers, then the elite Combined Applications Group, also known as Delta Company. Beck himself had been a member of one of the most elite military teams in the world, yet he’d still heard others speak in hushed tones about Delta Company.

  Alex had been freelance for the past decade, and whenever he returned home after a job, he always tailed Beck for a few days or until Beck picked up he had a tail. Alex did this, he said, partly to keep in practice and partly to keep Beck’s skills sharp.

  Beck knew he really did it to be a pain in the ass.

  Well, now that Beck had spotted him, his friend would call and they’d make plans to get together. He wondered what Delaney would think of Alexander “Shade” Kemp.

  Beck let himself into his second-story condo and dropped his luggage by the door. Rolling his shoulders to alleviate residual tightness from losing a tail that might not have even been a tail, he went into his bedroom and grabbed another suit coat, one that was free of bullet holes. Thinking back to how upset Delaney had gotten at seeing the bruise on his back, he could only imagine how she’d react at seeing an actual bullet hole in his jacket.

  He took the stairs to the first level and went to the door with “Red Eagle Group” stenciled on the glass. He placed his hand on the palm vein scanner on the wall. When he got the green all-clear, he pulled open the glass door and went inside. As he shrugged into his jacket, he went through the empty reception area, to the back where the offices and conference room were. Approaching the glass-walled conference room, he saw Gabe and Ty were already there, as was a third man who was sitting in one of the high-backed chairs.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Ty called out with a wide smile. “Appears you had a good night.”

  Beck entered the room. Other than giving Ty a grimace, he stayed focused on the third man. “Rafe, when did you get in?”

  “Late last night.” Rafael Delgado stood and shook Beck’s hand, then used his grip to pull him into a hearty hug with a lot of backslapping. Thankfully he missed the bruise; otherwise, Beck might have slugged him in reflex. When they parted and Rafe had taken his seat again, he said, “And I’m ready to go to work.”

  Beck frowned. “Don’t want a break? Get your head on straight?”

  “Head’s on straight.” Rafe rocked back in his chair, his dark eyes solemn. “Don’t need a break.”

  “Rafe…” Gabe began.

  They all knew Rafe’s assignment had been hairy. A rescue and retrieval of a captured soldier, which had gone sideways and cost the life of one of his teammates.

  “Shit happens on a mission. What happened on this one wasn’t anyone’s fault. Head’s on straight.” Rafe met their eyes one by one. “Wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t true.”

  Beck blew out a breath. Rafe was a straight shooter. If he was coming to them feeling subpar, he’d tell them. He’d never knowingly put their lives at risk. “All right, then. Let’s get the day started. Ty, you got the list of potential jobs?”

  Ty took a seat and flipped open the laptop on the table in front of him. “Right. Here’s what’s on tap.”

  Before he could go any further, Beck’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket. “It’s the Pentagon,” he muttered and answered the call, “Red Eagle Group, Beck Townsend speaking.”

  * * * * *

  Delaney grabbed her purse and hustled out of the car. She hated being late for work. When she reached her desk, she shoved her bag in the big bottom drawer and plopped down into her chair. Within two minutes she had her computer booted up and had opened Outlook so she could see what was on the calendar for the day.

  The aroma of coffee hit her right before a hand waved a nearly full mug under her nose. She took it and looked up to see a smiling Colbie. “I saw you were running late,” her friend said, “so I thought I’d get you caffeinated.”

  “Thank you,” Delaney breathed before taking a cautious sip. She closed her eyes and took a bigger draw. “Perfect.”

  “You’re late,” came a deep voice from behind her.

  Colbie gave her big eyes along with a grimace and booked her way back to her own workstation.

  “I know; I’m sorry.” Delaney twisted her chair around to face her boss. Even though he sounded stern, she knew what she’d see when she saw his face, and she wasn’t wrong. Trigg Halverson had a big, shit-eating grin curving his mouth. She shook her head. “You’re going to have Colbie thinking you’re a slave driver.”

  He gave an unconcerned shrug. “From what I hear from her boss, she has a tardiness issue. Might do her good to think her friend, who’s usually here early, gets in trouble for being a few minutes late.”

  “More than a few minutes.” Delaney was usually early to work each day, and she felt bad that she’d gotten in almost fifteen minutes past her starting time. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  “Not a problem, but you did have me worried.”

  “Didn’t you get my voice mail? I called just after I pulled out of the driveway.”

  “I got it. Doesn’t mean I still didn’t worry. Everything okay?”

  She couldn’t tell her manager that she had a new boyfriend who’d made sure she had some morning nookie and then she’d had a fight with him and then another mini make-out session, and that was why she wasn’t in on time. “Yeah, yeah,” she finally mumbled and fidgeted with items on her desk. “I just…got a late start.” She glanced up at him.

  He gave her a nod and a smile. “Like I said, not a problem.” He motioned toward her computer screen. “Remember, we still have that all-staff meeting this morning.” Flipping his wrist, he looked at his watch. “In ten minutes.” With another smile she saw now didn’t reach his eyes, he said, “Better finish that coffee before it gets cold.” Before she could ask if everything was all right with him, he turned and went back into his office.r />
  Ten minutes later, with a fresh cup of coffee, Delaney filed into the large meeting room and took a seat next to Colbie near the back. Glancing around, she saw that nearly everyone was there, except for the receptionist who was required to remain at the front desk and a few others who must have had the day off. Other than those few, all thirty-five employees of SNJ Technology fit into the room.

  She lifted her mug and took a sip as an older man went to the front of the room. Samuel Newberry Johnson, the owner and founder of SNJ Technology, was silver-haired and sharply dressed in a charcoal-gray suit. He stared down at some papers in his hand for a moment then looked up and called for attention, “Thank you all for attending today’s staff meeting.” He paused and cleared his throat.

  Delaney frowned. He seemed tense. Uncomfortable. What the hell was going on? In the ten years she’d worked at SNJ, she’d never seen him like this.

  Colbie leaned toward her. “What’s going on?” her friend whispered. She likely also realized this wasn’t normal behavior for the usually unflappable Johnson.

  Delaney responded with raised eyebrows and a shrug. Whatever it was, it didn’t appear to be good.

  He heaved a sigh that even at the back of the room she could hear.

  “There’s no easy way to say this, folks, so here it is. For the last six months I’ve been trying to stave off a hostile takeover by a rival firm. A much larger, much deeper-pocketed rival. Yesterday afternoon, I am sorry to say, I finally ran out of ideas. And luck.” He pressed his lips together, and when he went on, his voice was thick, “Effective Monday, we will all be employed by TechAm.”

  Delaney looked at Colbie, who looked right back at her. Then Delaney searched the room until she found her boss. She didn’t know how she’d feel if he’d known about this for the last six months and hadn’t even given her a hint. When she saw him, he didn’t look as shocked as she felt. He looked…worried. A little angry. But not shocked. When Johnson went on, she put her attention back to the front of the room.

  “I will remain president of the division, reporting to the CEO of TechAm. Of course this merger means hiring and salaries are frozen for the foreseeable future. An executive merger team from our parent company,” this was said through clenched teeth, “will take the next two weeks to review departments and positions for redundancies.”