The Titan Series: Military Romance Boxed Set

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The Titan Series: Military Romance Boxed Set Page 65

by Cristin Harber


  “We’re all good. Thanks.”

  Realization colored the guy’s face scarlet, and he scooted to his waiting security truck, which had yellow rotating lights on its roof. How’d we miss that thing driving up?

  Jared clicked his seatbelt into place and, with a slap, put the Expedition in drive. “Buzz kill.”

  ***

  This day could not get any weirder. That morning, he and Sugar had been busted for making out in the backseat of his Expedition. Lunchtime came and went, and they had made good use of their time at GUNS with a nooner in her office. That afternoon, as Jared stood in Colby Winters’s familiar living room, a sense of dread made it hard to get comfortable.

  An adoring Winters walked into the room with a little bundle of blue blankets wrapped protectively in his arms. The man beamed, never taking his eyes off his son. “This is Ace.”

  The all-points bulletin had already gone out to Titan. Andrew Reese “Ace” Winters. Ten fingers. Ten toes. All good news.

  Jared took a step forward, tiptoeing so as not to disturb the little thing.

  He’d never seen a newborn before. Little was right. What was the kid? Five, six days old? Ace snoozed quietly, his eyes sealed shut. The goofy grin on Winters’s face screamed proud papa. So did the tired eyes. That wasn’t the face of the warrior Jared knew. It warmed his heart a little to know his guys weren’t just gun-slinging machines.

  “Want to hold him?” Winters extended his arms a little, offering Ace.

  “Oh, hell no.” Jared’s hands flew up as if the baby was TNT with a short charge. His boots moved him back on instinct. “I mean, heck no.” Right? He shouldn’t curse around a kid.

  Winters chuckled, and Mia walked in. She had the same tired eyes as her husband, but was just as happy and proud. Good for them.

  “Jared Westin.” Mia put her hands on her hips. “I know you didn’t just say no to holding Ace.”

  “Uh—”

  “Big toughie like you is actually scared of a sleeping infant?” She shook her head.

  “But—”

  “Colby, don’t hog the baby.” Mia flicked her husband’s shoulder. “Give Jared a chance.”

  There was no negotiating with Mia. “I don’t—”

  “Clara, in here please.” Mia looked down the hall, beckoning the torture he’d signed up for.

  In blurred the toddler, running full blast. Blonde pigtails bounced with each erratic footfall.

  Onto the couch. Bounce, bounce, bounce.

  Over the side.

  Onto a chair. Holy hell, get down!

  Then to the floor. And she was off and running.

  Jared lifted a hand to wave or something, and then realized his mouth was hanging open. This couldn’t be little Clara he’d seen stumbling around a few weeks before, clinging to the couches to move about. This was the roadrunner of children.

  “You sure you got this, man?” Winters handed the baby to Mia, who shook her head at Jared. “I could stay home. I knew it was short notice, and not like I’m calling some random babysitter just ’cause my mom can’t do it.”

  “No. I got this.” He could handle a toddler. He knew Clara. Never been alone with her… But he had to-do list from Mia, which he’d studied… and Googled, because who really knew what a tri-ci-coo was? When did people stop saying tricycle?

  Clara ran through, running a circle between the living room and the kitchen. The hallways were like a toddler-sized track. This time, tucked under an arm, she had a red stuffed animal with bulging eyes.

  “Clara.” Winters stepped toward her, removed her from the ottoman, and placed her in front of Jared. “You remember our friend Jared?”

  “Hi!” she shouted, waving the ugly red animal.

  Jared crouched. “Hey, Clara.”

  “Give her a high five,” Winters urged him. “Works every time.”

  Uh. Okay. He put up his hand. “High five?”

  Clara ran forward, smacking his hand and giggling.

  “That’s Elmo.” Winters pointed. “Know where he is at all times, and you’ll be fine.”

  A drumroll replaced the normal beat of Jared’s heart. A red stuffed animal was the key to his survival? Surely, he would survive this with or without Elmo. “Got it.”

  “So, we’re leaving.” Winters met Mia at the door.

  She waved like this was an everyday thing. Jared and Clara. Alone. No big deal. “Bye, guys. We’ll be back.”

  “Bye!” Clara hollered then ran down the hall. “Bye, bye, bye.”

  Using her voice like sonar, Jared raced to find her. She moves so damn fast. Then all was quiet. Damn. No wonder Sugar wants an older kid like Asal. She could skip the whole terrible twos, not that Clara was even two yet. He should’ve called Sugar, but it hadn’t occurred to him that babysitting would be a two-person project.

  Where was Clara? His heart double-timed. Has to be the kitchen. He did another lap around the toddler track. Thirty seconds into Operation Keep the Kid Alive, his mission was looking bleak.

  A chair scratched across the floor. Jared spun and dropped to his knees. Clara was crawling, weaving under the chair legs, dragging Elmo. Christ almighty, I should’ve brought a homing device. Could’ve just attached it to her shirt as a precaution.

  His cell phone rang. Nope. No time for distraction. He went for the ignore button and saw that Sugar was calling. “Hello?”

  “You okay?”

  “No. Yes. Why?” He dropped to the floor to keep a better eye on Clara.

  “You sound like you’ve been huffing helium. All high pitched.”

  “Are you okay?” Feeling like this was life or death right now… “If you’re good, I have to go.”

  Clara shimmied from underneath the table and ran toward the stairs. Fast on her trail, he got there before she did. Okay. Big white gate. Not a death trap.

  Sugar sighed. “I’m fine—”

  “Okay. Bye. I’ll explain later.”

  She sighed again. “I’m worried about Asal. I hate waiting for Baer and feel like I need to do something.”

  Clara hit the living room again, bouncing on a seat cushion. He hovered so she wouldn’t tumble to the floor and break her neck. “You agreed to meet Baer. That was a game changer. But we got this. It’ll be okay. Two more days, she’s yours—”

  “What are you doing?” Sugar asked.

  Yeah, good question. Good fuckin’ question. Fencing in a chair with his arm span. Crawling on the floor. Wondering how many teeth a toddler could knock out with a fall to the floor. “I’m… babysitting.”

  She snorted into the phone, laughing. “Excuse me?”

  “Ace had a doctor’s appointment. Winters’s mom got sick, couldn’t watch Clara. Mia asked if I could, so she and Winters could go to the appointment. Here I am.”

  Sugar clapped in the background. “And he’s good with kids, ladies and gentlemen. What can’t Jared Westin do?” She laughed again. “This is priceless. I’d pay to see this.”

  Clara ran down the hall, screaming, holding Elmo high over her head. He was in fast pursuit. “Sugar, I have to go.”

  “I didn’t think you were the kid type.”

  God, seriously. This conversation is happening now? “I’m not. I am. I don’t—hadn’t thought about it.” But had he thought about it? Asal and Sugar and—“Clara, wait!”

  Clara made a sharp right, coming to a stop at the back door. That might be good—a big open space without too much to hide under or climb on. He could see her in all directions and could get to her quicker than she could get into Winters’s lake. Okay, good idea, kid.

  He opened the door. If he thought Clara could run before, she was on fire as soon as the door opened. Her little legs ran track-star style. Her trajectory was all off. If she stood up a bit more, it would be better. She would be less likely to—

  Wipeout. Oh shit.

  Jared ran to Clara while Sugar blabbered in his ear. Clara popped up faster than he could ask her if she was okay. Running again? Tough kid.
Okay. All right. The kid was okay. He took a breath.

  He sunk to his haunches, watching Clara run in circles. “Christ.”

  “What?”

  “Kid’s got energy. A lot of it.” He watched their surroundings for any signs of danger. Ditches. Branches. Sinkholes. Whatever. “She runs, constantly unbalanced. Climbs up stuff that isn’t stable. Under stuff that could fall. The kid’s fearless.”

  “Ha! Sounds like you.”

  “No joke. She could train the guys. Jump first, ask questions later.”

  “You’d make a good dad.”

  The words tied his stomach into a knot. That had never occurred to him. Not the good part, but the dad. That’d never been in the plans—not that he made plans like that. It was all Titan, all the time. But before Sugar, it’d been all women, all the time. And right then, he wasn’t interested in letting Sugar get too far from him.

  Whatever that means…

  Keeping an eye on Clara, he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder and cracked his knuckles. “I want to see you tonight.”

  “You just saw me.”

  Nothing was ever easy with Sugar. “You got a problem that I want to see you again?”

  “Have to work. Lot of stuff to catch up on.”

  “Our deal was you’d stay home after we left GUNS.”

  “Oh, now, Jared.” Her voice purred, and if he hadn’t had a laser focus on the kid in front of him, his mind would’ve wandered. “You know I didn’t get much done there. You kept me far too occupied.”

  Goddamn if that isn’t the truth.

  Clara stopped running and froze in place like she’d seen an enemy running straight for her. Her hands went up, then down, and then she wailed.

  Every fiber of his muscle went on high alert. His mind hyper-analyzed the perimeter. “Where the fuck is Elmo?”

  Sugar exploded with laughter. “Elmo?”

  Clara hit the ground, then rolled on her back and screamed. He spun left, then right. Elmo. Where was the stupid bright-red doll?

  He saw it—a dozen yards away—and sprinted for it. Snagging it on the move, he hightailed it back to red-faced, tear-streaked Clara. He grabbed a little fist, inserting Elmo in between her tiny fingers. Like he’d hit the off switch, she smiled, sat up, and started singing.

  “You’re too distracting, Sugar. Elmo went AWOL, and things almost got bad. I gotta go.”

  “All right, J-dawg. Have fun babysitting. I might stay home and think of ways to drive you crazy. My new favorite pastime.”

  I’ll give you a new favorite pastime. He shook his head. Not the time. Not when Elmo was on the run. “Later, baby cakes.”

  The kid type and a good dad. She was already screwing with his brain. He tapped his fingers on his thigh. What he wanted, what he was good at, was all things Titan, which was very much like Sugar’s push to make GUNS her world. But she was making room for Asal. Was she making room for him, too?

  Clara ran over to him and held up her hand. High five. He gave her hand a tap, and she giggled, running off at top toddler speed. Yeah, I could handle kids. I’m good with them. They certainly weren’t an easy gig. But so what? That didn’t give him permission to start questioning himself. The trouble was Sugar. Getting wrapped up in her equated to complications.

  Winters’s dog came out of nowhere, and Clara squealed, breaking his concentration. He had no time to think about anything other than what was right in front of his nose.

  ***

  Sugar was armed and had the start of a plan. She would make up the rest along the way. The weight of the gun balanced perfectly in her hand. Her touch warmed its cold metal. Measuring every step, ensuring each was the quietest one possible, she inched closer to the mark.

  The room was dark. The air conditioner hummed. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. God, she loved a good game. Tonight’s might be the best. Ever.

  She crept closer, scaled the bed, then straddled the snoring man. The move was pure power.

  She nuzzled the business end of the gun against his lips. The snoring stuttered, then stopped. He blinked. Brain waves and synapses fired. His body stiffened.

  “Wakey, wakey, you sly motherfucker.” She dragged the barrel over his teeth, watching his face in the dim light coming through the window. “Kip Pearson, we meet again.”

  He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

  “That’s right. Think very carefully before you speak.” Rage and vengeance coursed through her blood.

  Scratchy-throated, he murmured, “If you’re going to kill me, do it.”

  “Nah, I’m here for two reasons. First, where’s Asal? Second, you’ll deliver my message.”

  He laughed into the barrel. “Not a chance.”

  She reared back and pistol-whipped him. Kip gave a satisfying sound of pain. Blood trickled out a nostril. “I have no problem killing you, Kip. Like you had no problem killing me. But you serve a greater purpose. For the time being.” His torso shifted under her, and Sugar pulled the slide on the gun, then shoved the barrel under his chin. “Careful. I’m easy to underestimate, apparently. One slip of the finger, and well, you can guess.”

  “You’ll kill me anyway.”

  “I won’t.” She tapped the gun against the soft fleshy spot under his jaw. “I told you. I have a message you need to deliver. Be a good sport, Kippo. Tell mama where her girl’s at.”

  “Hell, whatever. Doesn’t matter.” The wheels were turning behind his dimly lit face. “He’s expecting you anyway. Buck Baer has a place outside Charlottesville. In the mountains. The kid’s there. That’s all I know.”

  She pushed the gun into his throat. “Do you know how much will power it takes to not pull this trigger? Give me a reason not to pull the trigger.”

  A light sweat broke out across Kip’s forehead. “There’s more than one kid. Consider it a peace offering.” He licked his lips nervously. “Come on, Sugar. You know it was just business in Afghanistan. Nothing personal. There’s another kid or two with Buck. That kind of intel’s worth giving me a break.”

  Another kid or two? Why would GSI have children? “Not sure I believe you, but it’s a start.”

  “Like I said, he’s expecting you. With or without Titan. Good luck.”

  “I don’t need luck, Kip.” She pulled a pair of handcuffs from her waist and slapped his hands together. “I just needed you to know that I could get in here and that we’re not finished.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “Someone’ll come looking for you, I’m sure.” She slid off the bed, grabbed a second set of cuffs, and shackled his ankles to the bedpost. “You’ll be okay, until you aren’t. Don’t forget to tell Buck Baer he fucked with the wrong gal. I’m gunnin’ for him.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Her hands tight around the leather steering wheel, Sugar slid her car into her driveway, with the radio blaring. Her high beams caught a mass of man, all anger and crossed arms, standing in her way.

  Shaking her head, she put the car in park and pocketed the keys. Why am I surprised? Why wouldn’t Jared be waiting for me? It was the middle of the night, and he hadn’t been there when she’d left. Sugar sighed and climbed from the driver’s seat. Slowly, for good measure. Just to make her favorite brooder wait.

  “Fancy seeing you.” Her boots crunched in the silent night as she walked past him toward her front door. A growl rumbled behind her. She guessed he wasn’t in the mood for the old blow off. “I’d invite you in, but it’s late. I’m tired.” And I don’t want to play twenty questions. She had too much research to do to find Buck’s place. She was sure she would need a couple of hours to drive there. Never one to wait for the fight, she thought it seemed like a decent idea to bring the fight to Buck. She could take Asal and make sure he knew she was in the mood to stay alive.

  “Where have you been?”

  The coldness in his voice would’ve stopped a lesser woman. “Running errands.”

  “Sugar—”

  “Jared.” She turned, smirki
ng beside her front door. His face was pinched tight. “Gotta get my beauty sleep. I promised we’d talk about Buck tomorrow after he’s contacted you.”

  He took a step forward. Enraged energy poured into the night. “I can tell when you’re lying.”

  “But I’m not. We’ll talk about Buck tomorrow. I swear.” She made a cross over her heart, then blew him a kiss.

  “You’re up to something.”

  Well, hello, Captain Obvious. What gave it away? The one foot in the door, the other kicking away a man who makes my heart pound double-time? Good job, J-dawg. “Always am. If you want any future relationship between us, that’s a mantra you should come to terms with, real quick.”

  He rubbed his hands together and unsuccessfully tried for an unaffected look. He relaxed his shoulders, and removed the upset snarl across his face.

  Such a plotter. A negotiator.

  “Two heads are better than one.” He took another step forward.

  Oh, bullshit. He only wanted to know what she’d been up to, but it was true enough—two of them working on a Buck plan was better than her working alone. Mr. Master of Everything was good at tactics and strategies. Basically, all she had was: load up on explosives, find Buck, then go home with Asal. Her plan had holes.

  “I’m good.” She bit the inside of her lip. Really, that should’ve been: “I’m stubborn.”

  He took a step forward. At that rate, he would have inched inside her door sometime just before dawn. “Then let me in. We’ll sleep on it.”

  Even when he was all motives and persuasion, he made her throat constrict and her blood pound in her neck. The idea of him in her private domain gave her shivers. “I don’t think you have any intention of sleeping.”

  “You don’t know that.” He took another step forward in his kill-me-slowly ambush.

  Exhaustion and the start of self-doubt screwed with her the longer she remained outside. Tucking her arms across her chest, she sucked in a slow breath and prayed he didn’t notice her internal battles. “I know you better than you think, Jared. I know that you’re worried about me. I do crazy shit without thinking. I get it.” She inhaled another cold breath to strengthen her assessment. “I know you’re pissed that I’m out in the middle of the night.”

 

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