Claim (Talon Security Book 2)

by Megan O'Brien

  “You know, the part of your brain that tells you to shut the hell up,” I explained.

  He chuckled. “Ah yes, the filter.” He nodded. “What do you mean by soft insides?” he asked as my cottage came into view.

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure you’re super tough,” I assured him, receiving another deep chuckle. “But the way you look at Hudson….” I shrugged. “Your eyes get all soft, and it’s like he lights up your world. And now that I seem like a total creep… I’m just going to stop talking.” I bit my lip.

  “You don’t seem like a creep,” he assured me as I put my key in the lock and opened the door, unleashing the exuberance that was Able.

  He bounded around our legs excitedly.

  Travis bent down to grab his scruff and my heart melted that much more watching him give my dog some love. He looked up at me. “What’s his name?”

  “Able.” I smiled.

  “Unusual name,” he noted, following me inside. Him seeing my small cottage in its typical state of disarray had my cheeks flushing. “Sorry, my place is a mess.” I grimaced.

  His eyes remained on mine before drifting to my lips. I swore an actual spark snapped between us. “So, Able?” he pressed, his voice an octave lower.

  I shook my head, trying to get out of the Travis fog. “Right, Able. I found him on the side of the road when he was a puppy. He’d been abused, starved, and left for dead. The vet I brought him to didn’t think he’d make it,” I explained. “I knew he was stronger than that. Able just seemed appropriate.” I shrugged just as Buster entered the room with a loud meow.

  “And this guy,” I went on, gesturing to my orange tabby. “He just showed up one day and wouldn’t leave. Buster felt appropriate for him, too.” I laughed.

  When I looked at Travis again I was floored to see the same look in his eye I’d seen when he looked at Hudson. “Now who has soft insides?” he murmured.

  I looked down at my boots with a shrug. “I just did what anyone would.”

  “Em, I’m sorry to say it, but I know firsthand that isn’t true.”

  I wanted to ask him what he meant. I wanted to ask where that sadness and constant wariness I saw in him came from, but I didn’t. “Thanks for walking me inside,” I said instead.

  He nodded, watching me intently. “You going to be okay?”

  I waved a hand dismissively. “Fine. I’ll probably pay for it tomorrow, but it was fun.”

  He smiled, flashing that dimple I’d only seen one other time. “I’m glad. I’ll see you soon. Lock the door behind me,” he instructed.

  I was too surprised by his comment that I’d see him soon to manage a response until he was headed for the door. “Night, Travis.”

  He looked over his shoulder, his eyes something close to hungry as he regarded me. “Good night, Emerly.”

  “Holy hell,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against the door.

  It was hours before I could find sleep, and as expected I had a nasty hangover the next morning.

  When I let Able out, it took me a minute to register the small flashlight in front of my door, wrapped with a note.

  E— So that you don’t have to walk in the dark. —Travis.

  I was floored by the gesture, and clutched the small purple flashlight close to my chest, close to my heart, where I felt certain Travis could easily find himself.

  Chapter 3

  “You don’t have permission to pick him up.” I shook my head adamantly. It was five days later, on a Wednesday that had gone surprisingly smoothly—until the estranged father of one of my students had shown up.

  “He’s my kid,” the man snarled, getting into my face. I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

  “Call the police,” I instructed my aid, Lindsey, as I pulled Gavin and Hudson, who were closest to me, in behind me. I could hear some of the children whimpering in fear. “You’re scaring your son and the other children. You need to leave,” I told him firmly.

  He reached out and grabbed my upper arm roughly, yanking me toward him. “You don’t tell me what to do, bitch,” he sneered.

  “Let her go, now.” Travis’s guttural command was like a clap of thunder from the doorway. Any shock I felt at seeing him was mired in relief as he crossed the room and wrapped an arm around the man’s neck in a painful-looking hold. “Now,” he clipped.

  “Who the hell are you?” the man choked, finally releasing my arm.

  Travis had him on the ground, flat on his belly with a knee to his back, so fast that it was just a blur of motion. A reply wasn’t necessary, his authority spoke for itself. He looked up at me, his eyes dark with intensity. “You okay?”

  I managed a nod, the children still huddled behind me.

  “You call the cops?”

  I nodded again.

  “Get off me!” The man grunted.

  “I’ll get off you when the cops get here to cuff you.”

  “Uncle Travis?” Hudson’s voice was fearful as he peered around my legs to look at his uncle.

  “Hey, bud,” Travis replied. “Everything’s okay. I need you to stay with Teacher Emerly right now, okay?”

  “Okay,” Hudson replied quietly. I could feel his little fingers grasping my pant leg.

  It was only moments before we heard sirens in the distance, growing louder by the second.

  Lindsey ran out to meet them and returned moments later followed by two uniformed officers.

  “McAllister,” one of them greeted Travis in surprise.

  “Hey, Pete,” Travis replied with a chin lift. “This assh—jerk,” he amended quickly, “assaulted one of the teachers.” He nodded toward me.

  “He was trying to take his son. He doesn’t have custody or permission to do so,” I put in shakily, the intensity of the situation hitting me full force now that the police had arrived.

  The officer nodded as Travis got up off the man, who was then cuffed and hauled to his feet a second later by the other officer.

  Travis walked toward me and Hudson ran to him, breaking into heartbreaking sobs.

  Travis scooped him up, holding him close. “You’re okay, bud.”

  “I want my mommy,” he whimpered as he clutched his uncle.

  “I’ll take you straight home,” Travis assured him as his eyes turned to me. “You okay?” he asked again, his gaze sliding to my arm.

  I bit my lip, knowing my eyes were wide. “Y-yeah,” I stammered.

  “We’ll need a statement, miss,” one of the officers broke in.

  I nodded. “You should take him home,” I told Travis, my eyes on Hudson. “He’s scared.”

  After a moment of indecision, Travis nodded. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “Fine,” I assured him more firmly. I didn’t want him to feel conflicted, not when taking care of Hudson was far more important.

  “Take care of her, Pete,” Travis instructed the police officer firmly. I wondered absently how he knew him.

  “Will do, McAllister. I’ll tell the captain you said hello.”

  Travis offered a chin lift, and with one final concerned glance my way, carried Hudson out the door.

  I turned to Lindsey, offering her what I knew was a shaky smile. I had to keep myself together until the rest of the kids were picked up. I’d never in my teaching career wished more that throwing on a video was appropriate.

  As though sensing something monumental had happened, the kids were remarkably well-behaved for the rest of the afternoon. I threw myself back into teaching, into reading to them and starting a painting project, and I forgot about the earlier incident for a time. That was one of the things I loved most about teaching—it was so much bigger than me. It was about them and their experience. I got to be a part of their childhood. To say that was empowering was an understatement at best.

  Luckily, I didn’t have a yoga class to teach that evening and was able to go straight home. I was disappointed that Mabel wasn’t home, and after a hot shower poured a large glass of wine and huddled under m
y blankets on the couch.

  With that innate sense animals always seemed to have, Buster and Able stayed close—even calling a truce, sharing the same blanket instead of fighting. I tried reading, but I was too preoccupied. Finally, I decided a movie was my best option for distraction. After a moment of indecision, I put on Reservoir Dogs. It wasn’t the most cheerful movie, in fact it was downright gruesome, but at least it was familiar.

  When a quiet knock sounded on my door halfway through, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  I headed for the door with shaking knees. “Yes?” I asked hesitantly through the door.

  “It’s Travis.”

  I took a shocked step back, looking down at my yoga pants and T-shirt that read “Yoga puts the ass in sassy” in dismay.

  May had bought it for me last Christmas.

  There was no time to change, or to put my hair into some semblance of order. I opened the door, peering out at him. “Um, hey,” I greeted him hesitantly.

  “Hey,” he replied. “Sorry to show up unannounced. I didn’t think to ask Sam for your number. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  I was touched by his thoughtfulness. “I’m okay. Do you want to come in?” I gestured inside.

  He nodded, stepping inside and looking around my place that was thankfully a bit more cleaned up from the last time he’d seen it.

  “Don’t worry, you don’t need a hazmat suit this time,” I muttered dryly. “Do you want something to drink? I have some red open, or… water. And that’s pretty much it.”

  He chuckled. “Red sounds good.”

  I nodded, shuffling nervously toward the small kitchen as Able hopped off the couch to greet our guest.

  “Is he a shepherd?” Travis called as I poured him a glass of wine.

  “Definitely part shepherd,” I replied, returning with a glass in hand. I handed it over to him. “I think he has some collie in there too, maybe some lab. Do you have pets?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve always liked dogs, but we never had one growing up. I work a lot and occasionally need to travel, so it just wouldn’t be fair,” he explained. “Sam has a dog, Trixie, a tiny little Chihuahua that’s surprisingly grown on me.” He chuckled.

  I raised a brow. “I’ve met her.” I nodded. “And I can’t picture you anywhere near a Chihuahua.”

  He laughed. “You’ll have to see it to believe it.”

  I blushed at the insinuation that I’d see him again.

  He stepped closer, his gaze zeroed in on the bruise that had formed on my upper arm. “I wish I had arrived a few minutes earlier,” he lamented, his fingers ever so gently tracing my bruise.

  “I’m okay,” I murmured breathlessly.

  “So you said,” he replied dryly. “You handled it well,” he added.

  I shrugged. “I felt like a wreck, but I’d do anything to protect the kids.”

  His gaze warmed as he looked at me. “You’re really something, aren’t you?” he murmured.

  I flushed. “I’m just—me.” I shrugged.

  “Exactly.” He smiled. “Now,” he continued, taking a step back, breaking the spell between us. “Did you eat? ’Cause I’m starving.”

  I shook my head. “I kind of forgot about it. I don’t have much in the house,” I added regretfully. “We could order in? If you want to stay,” I added quickly.

  “I want to stay,” he assured me, eyeing me with something akin to hunger, and not for food.

  My heart thudded, my palms clammy. The very possibility that this gorgeous man could desire me was a heady thought.

  “Okay. Pizza?”

  “Sounds good.” He made himself comfortable on the couch and the sight of his muscular frame stretched out in my living room was so surreal it took me a second to gather myself. Finally, I managed to pick up the phone and call in our order.

  His eyes turned to the television where the movie was paused. “Reservoir Dogs? This gives you the warm and fuzzies?” he asked with an incredulous chuckle.

  I shook my head, sitting down on the opposite side of the couch. “No, but I’ve seen it a bazillion times. I wanted something familiar.”

  “I get that.” He nodded as Able jumped up between us.

  Suddenly I felt immensely nervous and awkward. Should I put the movie back on? Music? Should we just talk?

  “Were you a police officer?” I blurted, both anxious to fill the silence and genuinely curious. “Is that how you knew those guys today?”

  He stroked Able’s ears thoughtfully. “No. I work with them on occasion though,” he answered vaguely.

  I stared at him, willing him to continue.

  “I was a SEAL,” he explained. “After I retired, I started a security firm. Mostly corporate security for companies doing business overseas. In recent years things have really… taken off.” He seemed hesitant.

  “And that’s bad because…?” I prompted.

  “It’s not bad, per se. It just comes with attention I’d sometimes rather avoid.”

  “So what, you have security groupies?” I teased.

  “Sometimes.” He shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

  My eyes popped wide. “I was kidding. I mean—not that you wouldn’t have admirers, look at you.” I gestured to him, and then my face flamed. “Dammit, I’ve only had one glass of wine. It’s way too soon for my filter to abandon me!” I groaned.

  He chuckled. “You’re cute.”

  His compliment flushed my cheeks darker still. “Let’s go with that over dork,” I agreed.

  “Definitely not a dork,” he murmured as a slow grin spread across his handsome face. “Your shirt’s cute, by the way.”

  I winced. “You see me at the most flattering times,” I complained sarcastically. “Either falling on my face, being assaulted, or wearing my supercool pajamas.”

  “They’re cute, and you didn’t fall on your face,” he corrected with a grin. “You almost fell on your face.”

  “Almost,” I agreed with a laugh, feeling more relaxed. My phone chirped a second later with a text. “Pizza’s here. I’ll go out and get it.”

  “No, I’ll get it. They’re out front of Mabel’s?” he verified.

  “Yeah. I don’t like people knowing the cottage is back here unless I have to,” I admitted.

  “Smart.” He nodded approvingly. “I’ll be back.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured.

  The second the door shut behind him, I raced to the bathroom, relieved to see that my hair wasn’t as crazy as it could be. I didn’t have anything in my teeth, another win.

  I was reemerging after walking through what I hoped was a very subtle spritz of my vanilla-coconut perfume when he returned with the pizza.

  “It smells like cookies in here,” he remarked.

  “Oh?” I replied, trying my best to look confused. “It might be one of my candles. Let me grab some plates.”

  “This is a nice place,” he commented, following me into the kitchen.

  “Thanks. It’s nothing fancy and not a typical situation, but it works perfectly for me and the beasts.”

  “How long have you been here?”

  “About two years. I got my teaching credential back home in Iowa and moved out here to be close to my brother.”

  “So you’re what… twenty-four?”

  “Yep.” I nodded.

  “So young,” he muttered.

  His comment rubbed me the wrong way, and I stiffened. “Yeah well, it certainly doesn’t feel that way. And you’re ancient at what, thirty?”

  “Thirty-one,” he confirmed, clearly surprised by my clipped tone. His large hand reached out, clasping my shoulder briefly. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I realize I can come across kind of gruff. Sam gives me shit for it all the time.”

  I softened some at his admission. “Maybe it’s just your version of missing a filter. And plus, I know about your soft insides,” I teased. “Now, how many slices do you want, two to start?”

  He studied me for a moment, and I wis
hed like hell I could read his mind. “Sounds good.”

  We sat on the couch, and I immediately started to pick off my pepperoni, glancing at Able. “Off,” I commanded him—or attempted to command him.

  He stared at me dumbly.

  “Off,” Travis reiterated in a much more commanding voice.

  Able immediately hopped off the couch and trotted over to his bed in the corner.

  “How did you do that?” I demanded. “He never listens to me! Honestly, I’m kind of insulted,” I huffed, shooting a glare at my dog.

  Travis shrugged, and I couldn’t help but notice he was good-looking even when he chewed. “It’s the tone. You have to command him with more authority. Use a deeper voice.”

  “Like this?” I asked, making my voice so deep it nearly hurt.

  Travis let out a shocked chortle, nearly spitting out his pizza.

  I laughed along with him, enjoying his company and feeling like I could be myself. It had been a long time since I’d felt like that with a man. Especially a man as swoon-worthy as Travis.

  “Why did you order pepperoni if you don’t like it?” he asked, his gaze on the little pile of meat I’d set up next to my slice.

  I winced, realizing how weird it must seem. I hadn’t even thought about it, I’d been so comfortable. “I like to eat it separately,” I explained, my cheeks heating. “I know it’s weird.”

  He offered a casual shrug. “It’s not weird. I like pineapple on mine, and most people think that’s sacrilege.”

  I offered a shy smile, grateful to him for making me feel comfortable.

  “So, your brother lives in LA?” he asked conversationally.

  I shook my head. “He’s an active duty marine, but while he was in boot camp he was at MCRD down in San Diego. I wanted to at least be on the same coast, and I found a good teaching job here. I’m hoping he’ll settle here after he gets out.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “How long has he been in?”

  “Nearly four years.”

  It felt like a lifetime.

  “I’d be happy to talk with him about opportunities in the area if he’d like once he’s stateside,” he offered.

  I offered a grateful smile. “I’ll definitely tell him that.” In the comfortable silence that followed, I turned the movie back on and we sat watching, finishing our meal.