Target: A Military Romance (Unwanted Soldiers Book 1)

by Aden Lowe

  "Just black, please. I don't need things dressed up. Simple tastes for a simple man." He accepted the mug, calloused fingers brushing mine.

  I laughed a little. "Somehow, I think 'simple' is the last word that applies to you." The kitchen table seemed like a safe place to sit. At least it would put a little distance between me and Trick. "Want to sit?"

  He pulled the other chair out and sat, stretching long legs before him. "Simple suits me. I've had complicated, and it doesn't work for me."

  I thought about that for a moment. "That makes sense. Complicated doesn't work well for me, either." No other word described my relationship with Jared better. It was complicated.

  My thoughts seemed to transfer straight into Trick's mind. "Really? Seems like things are complicated now, though."

  "It's temporary. Things will be fine once he wins the nomination." I had to keep telling myself that.

  "Right. And pigs will fly when he wins the nomination." The bitterness of his tone surprised me.

  "What do you mean?"

  "What does he tell you? He's stressed? It'll never happen again? He's sorry? It'll be better when something big happens?" He shook his head and took a sip of his coffee. "Lauren, men who hit women don't stop just because of some event. What happens if he gets the nomination? If he thinks this is stressful, just wait. You going to be his punching bag for the next eight years? And after?"

  "You don't even know him!" I bridled at the truth behind his words, and how he echoed my own thoughts. "How can you say such things?"

  "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I've just seen guys like him before. They take their frustrations out on their woman, then make some excuse for their behavior. I don't even know you, but I hate to see you in that kind of situation."

  I sighed. "Well, I don't exactly have a choice anymore." My hands lifted in defeat. "Everyone knows me. I get recognized everywhere I go. They know I'm just a small town girl. People are standing around waiting for me to fall on my face. I can't do that."

  "Lauren, you don't have to stay. I can help you leave." He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "People forget quickly."

  My heart thudded, heavy in my chest. "I can't. This is my life now." Searching for something to do, anything to keep my mind off the avalanche of thoughts and feelings Trick started within me, I stood. "Do you like bacon and eggs? I'm going to fix some breakfast."

  He nodded. "Sounds good. But I thought you ate breakfast with the Senator."

  "I do, if you call that eating. He doesn't like if I overindulge."

  "Yeah, I didn't figure he did." He stood. "Anything I can do to help?"

  I smiled. "Just keep me company."

  "Deal. I'm a horrible cook."

  I doubted if he could be truly terrible at anything, but I took him at his word. "How do you like your eggs?"

  "However you make them. I'm not picky." He sat back, legs stretched out, arms behind his head. "You know what he's doing is abuse, Lauren."

  An egg slipped from my fingers and shattered on the floor as I froze. "No, it isn't. He doesn't beat me."

  He stood and took the dishtowel from me, bent and cleaned up the mess. When he stood, he tossed the whole thing into the sink. "He hits you. That's abuse."

  I shook my head and started to reply, but he came into my space, overwhelming me. One finger came to rest gently on my bruised cheek. My lungs refused to work.

  His finger traced over the faint bruise, the one I thought I'd covered with makeup. "He left a mark on you. That's not how a man should touch a woman, especially not one he loves." He leaned in closer and brushed my hair back to slide his fingers along my jaw, down my neck. "When a man touches a woman, it should feel like this." He brushed his lips over mine in a whisper soft kiss, while his hand cupped the back of my neck.

  A little moan escaped me as I practically melted right there.

  He stepped back as if I'd burned him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

  My hand flew to my lips. I was too stunned to speak.

  "I'll let my boss know someone else needs to cover you." He turned and started for the door.

  "No! Wait. It's okay. I don't want someone else. I know you didn't mean anything by it." Even if part of me might wish he meant a lot. Images flashed through my head, of his hands touching me.

  He turned back. "Are you sure? I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I was out of line." He shrugged. "There's no excuse—"

  "I'm sure." I took a deep breath. "What you said, about me being a target, and you protecting me…That made me feel safe. I want you to stay."

  He lowered his head a little, and when he looked up, his gaze struck me full force. His eyes said so much more than his words, but I needed time to absorb and process. Suddenly, he smiled. "Is the offer for breakfast still good?"

  A laugh escaped me. "Yes, it is."

  Chapter eight

  Luckily I made it back to the chair before my knees gave out. What the fuck was wrong with me? Touching her like that, kissing her, that was a serious mistake. I blew the fucking mission with that little loss of control. Yet, by some miracle, she didn't kick me out on my ass. Maybe I could salvage things, after all.

  But, fuck me, that little hint of a taste of her lips was going to drive me to distraction. I needed more. Sitting there, watching her move around the kitchen, only made matters worse. The self-consciousness that placed all sorts of limits on her fell away in the familiar space and tasks. Her natural grace would put a fucking ballerina to shame. My damn dick acted like a heat seeking missile, and left me with no reasonable way to hide it. Made me feel like a damn horny teenager again. Not something I liked.

  What-the-fuck-ever. I didn't even try to hide. No need to draw attention to something that would make her uncomfortable. So I sat there, watched her, and fantasized about what the rest of her might taste like.

  If she had been single, I would have already had her under me. I had to force myself to remember, not only did she belong to another man, but that other man was an abusive asshole. While the bastard meant absolutely nothing to me, the commitment mattered to her, and I wouldn't ask her to violate it. Besides, the slightest hint of interest from me, and Richardson would go off the deep end on her. I couldn't live with myself if she were hurt because of me.

  I needed to get laid, and get my shit under control. Except I doubted whether this mission would allow ten minutes' free time for a quickie, and even if it did, chances were, a quickie with some other woman wouldn't help matters at all. History's worst case of blue-balls lay in my foreseeable future.

  To get my mind off my dick for a minute, I tried to think of something to say. "What do you like to do, Lauren, when you're not cooking breakfast for bodyguards, or working in art galleries?"

  Her soft laugh wrapped right around my dick and squeezed. "I like to read, hike, and people-watch. Before I met Jared, I was training for a half-marathon, but after we started dating, he asked me to stop running. He was worried I might get injured, or some crazy enemy of his might harm me." She shrugged a little. "I guess I liked the thought of someone being concerned for me."

  I filed that information away to use later. "Why didn't he just get security on you then, at least part-time?"

  The startled glance she sent me over her shoulder said I'd touched a sore point. "I'm not really sure." Topic closed. "How about you? What do you like to do?"

  "Mostly outdoors things. Hiking, camping, hunting, primitive survival-type things. I also read when I have time." The damn truth was going to hang me here. Still, I was hardly the only guy in the world with those interests.

  "There isn't much of that kind of thing around here, is there? Where are you from?"

  Thank God I took the time to memorize the Mike Ross information. "Tennessee, in the Smokey Mountains. Plenty of outdoor stuff there."

  A pan clanged suddenly on the stove and Lauren jumped back with an agonized cry.

  On my feet instantly, I searched for the cause. "What?"

 
Tears already streamed down her face as she gasped for breath. "Grease."

  As soon as the word came out, I spotted the spreading grease stain on the front of her robe, just below hip level. "Shit." I grabbed her and stripped the robe off. The silky gown she wore under it was plastered to the skin of her thigh with grease that had soaked through the robe.

  I picked her up and ran for the bathroom, placed her in the tub and turned on the shower. "The water will be cold. We have to get that grease cooled before it burns you more."

  She nodded, but tears still came. When the cold water hit, she gasped, but held still while I adjusted the spray to the gentlest setting in hopes of preventing further damage to her skin. To my surprise, rather quickly, the silk peeled away on its own, and took with it most of the now-congealed grease.

  "We need to get this off you, see how bad it is. Ready?"

  Again, she nodded, this time biting her lip.

  I gingerly lifted the hem of her gown, wary of any other burns I might not have seen, and pulled the garment over her head. The angry red splatter pattern marred the perfect, creamy flesh of her thigh, but so far, no blisters appeared. Relieved, I turned her, scanning the rest of her body, looking for other red patches, and finding none.

  "Looks like that's the only burn. We need to get you to the ER and get that treated." Suddenly, the reality of her nudity hit me. I stared, needing to sear every inch of her into my brain. My dick surged, needing her touch. It took me a moment to register that she was speaking.

  "…can't go to the ER. Jared can't know about this."

  Wait. What? "What do you mean you can't go to the ER?"

  Her teeth worried at her lower lip, making me want to kiss it. "It was a stupid accident. He'll be angry. I'm already too heavy, so I shouldn't have been cooking, especially not something like that."

  "Excuse me? Too heavy? By whose standards?" I openly stared, taking in firm breasts that made my hands ache to be filled. Her small waist flared into hips made to cradle a man. Her faintly rounded belly begged my mouth to kiss and lick. Long legs would feel like paradise wrapped around my hips. "You look pretty fucking perfect to me."

  A heavy blush settled over her cheeks, but I didn't miss the way her nipples hardened under my gaze. "I…um, I need to get dressed."

  Yeah, she did, before I lost control and took her right there, and to hell with the consequences. I handed her a towel to wrap around her body. "First, that burn needs to be cared for. Where's your first aid kit?"

  She tucked the end of the towel to secure it around her chest, hiding all that lusciousness from me. "There's a box of bandaids in the kitchen over the sink."

  I smothered a grin. "Honey, this is a little more than a bandaid kind of job."

  She met my eyes, her own darker than I remembered from just moments ago. "I can call my neighbor. He's a—"

  Her apartment door opened. "Knock-knock. Who da sexiest motherfucka in this town, baby?"

  Lauren started to speak but I raised a finger for silence and slipped out of the bathroom, drawing my 9mm as I went. It figured, the instant my back was turned, some crazy-ass fuckwad just walked the fuck right into her house. This kind of shit was why I stayed the fuck away from people when possible.

  The apartment was laid out in an 'L' shape, with the living room, kitchen and dining area forming the long side, and the bedroom and bathroom on the short side. The intruder made his way through the living room, heading into the kitchen as I caught sight of him.

  Fuck me, the guy was roughly the size of a brick house, white tee-shirt stretched tight over bulky muscles. I was hardly on the petite side of the scale, but I knew I better make damn sure the fucker didn't get his hands on me.

  "Poppy!" Lauren slid past me and ran for the guy. "Just the sexy nurse I needed to see!" She flung her arms around the fucker. "Trick, put that away. This is my neighbor, Poppy. He's a nurse."

  I lifted my chin in his direction, waiting for trouble to start.

  The bastard looked me over, then raised a dark eyebrow at Lauren. "Baby, I know I told you to get laid by something other than that cold fish politician coward, but I really didn't think you would take me seriously." He held out a hand. "Glad to meet you, man."

  That gorgeous blush settled back on Lauren's cheeks. "Whoa, Poppy, it's not like that. Trick is my bodyguard. There was a threat."

  "A threat? Who I need to kill?" His face darkened with anger.

  "No one, at least, not yet. Someone sent Jared a photo of me. Apparently, they've been watching me, or something, but there were no specifics."

  Startlingly black eyes shifted my way again. "So you the bodyguard, not the new boyfriend?"

  "That's right." I had no clue how to take this guy. All the information I had from Rufus suggested the across-the-hall neighbor, Poppy Martinez, nurse at the nearby ER, was female. "And you're the neighbor?"

  He grinned. "That's me."

  "Poppy, do you have a first-aid kit? Miss Johnson managed to get a burn, and it's more than her bandaids can take care of."

  All trace of humor disappeared and he turned to Lauren with concern. "What happened, Baby?"

  "It's nothing, Poppy, really. I was cooking bacon and the handle of that old skillet you've been after me to get rid of…I don't know, twisted, or something. I splashed a little grease." She shrugged a little. "No big deal."

  "Wrong answer, Lauren." I continued on, despite the thunderclouds in her eyes. "It's actually a little over four inches in diameter, on her upper thigh. No blistering, as of a couple minutes ago, but definitely not a laughing matter."

  Poppy turned into a professional nurse right before my eyes. He led Lauren to a chair. "Sit, please. I need to see." He turned to me, tossing a keyring in my direction. "My place is straight across the hall. Orange tool-box on top of the fridge."

  I grabbed the keys out of the air and took off, finding the box right where he said. A moment later, I locked Lauren's door from the inside and set the box down at Poppy's side, popping the lid open.

  He immediately pulled the box's trays out to expand like a big-ass fishing tackle box, donned latex gloves, and went to work. When he stepped back, Lauren sported a bright white dressing over the burn. He left supplies, and directions, for changing the dressing, then packed up his kit.

  "If you two mother hens will excuse me, I need to get ready. I can't be late." She turned to start out of the room, then turned back. "And Trick? Not a word to Jared. Please?"

  "Of course not. He won't find out anything from me."

  She nodded, and disappeared around the corner, leaving us both to stand there awkwardly.

  "Here's your keys, man. Locked up as I left."

  "Thanks." He pocketed the keys. "Look, man, I don't mean to tell you your business, but the biggest threat to that girl comes from that fucking coward she's dating."

  "Yeah, it does."

  He looked at me with surprise. "You know about that shit?"

  "Not all of it, but enough to know it's a matter of time." It occurred to me to use this guy, Lauren's neighbor and friend, as an ally in my campaign to get her to leave. "I talked to her about it this morning. She needs to get away from him, and sooner rather than later, but she wouldn't hear anything of it."

  "Yeah, man, I've talked to her about it, too. She insists he would never actually hurt her. But she's the reason this box sits on top of my fridge. I've cleaned up split lips, iced black eyes, and other bruises, way too many times." He lifted his hands, as if in defeat. "I'm crazy about that girl, like a baby sister, but sometimes, I just want to pack her up and get her ass away from here."

  "I heard that, Poppy. You aren't packing me up." Lauren stuck her head back into the room. "Trick, I'm sorry you didn't get your bacon and eggs. There's cereal and stuff, if you want." She ducked back out of sight. "Stop talking about me, boys."

  Poppy shook his head. "She was cooking for you?"

  "Yeah. Said she wanted breakfast, too."

  He nodded, looking speculative. "Good. She doesn
't eat enough. That twat got her thinking she's fat, or some shit." He picked up the toolbox with one hand, and offered the other for a fist bump. "Good to meet you, Trick. You need anything, my place is available. Lauren has a spare key, and another is hidden inside the vent on the landing. I work long shifts, so I'm not around as much as I'd like to be."

  "Thanks, man. I'll look after her as much as my boss will allow."

  He left and I turned my thoughts to the problem of the shift changes. I needed to be with her all the time, not just eight hours in a twenty-four-hour period. Otherwise, it would take twice as long to convince her she needed to get the fuck away from Richardson. I needed to call Rufus and see if he had any suggestions, as well as bust his chops for overlooking the gender of Poppy Martinez.

  Chapter nine

  Getting dressed turned into a tortuous experience. None of the tailored dresses and pantsuits Jared always wanted me to wear during the day were designed to be worn over a bandage. Finally, I pulled on a pair of pantyhose, hoping they would keep the fabric of my pants from snagging on the bandage. That turned into an epic fail, since the bandage instantly tore the nylon, resulting in a run that didn't stop until it reached my toes. With a growl of frustration, I pulled them off and threw them in the garbage, and determined to suffer through with the pants.

  By the time I finished and came out of my room, Trick had the kitchen cleaned up. "You didn't have to do all this."

  "I know. I needed something to keep my hands busy, anyway." The smoldering heat in his eyes tempted me to ask why.

  Instead, I checked the time. "We'll have to leave soon, or I'll be late."

  "Ready when you are. The car is still parked where we left it last night. I need to see what we can do about that."

  "The parking?" The time it took to grab my purse, and everything else I might need during the day, was all it took for Trick to finish what he was doing and have the door open.

  "If this becomes an actual threat situation, you need to go from door to car. I don't want you to be on the street and vulnerable." He went into the stairwell first, checked things, then motioned me to follow.