by Fiona Archer
“America’s finest.” Flynn’s voice drifted from the doorway.
Noah chuckled. “Don’t be too harsh. If we hadn’t drawn kitchen duty, it would be our arses stretched out before that fire.” His gaze drifted to the woman that had turned his life upside down and all shades of fuck-fantastic.
“Look at our girl.” Flynn’s voice held a reverence Noah could well understand.
Chloe, with a book facedown over her stomach, lay nestled in a sleepy bundle between Mike and Digger. The dog was in his usual spot plastered next to his mistress, tummy facing the ceiling and Chloe’s hand resting on the pudgy belly. “Bloody hell, Flynn, I’m jealous of our dog.”
“Yeah, mate. We’ve hit a new low. You going to wake the sleeping beauties and tell them we have a guest driving her way up to the house?”
Noah had received the call from Rex, who’d volunteered to play gatekeeper tonight. With the ranch under lockdown, any guests had to seek admittance via a phone intercom at the main entry gate. It wouldn’t keep out anyone determined to gain access, but it kept away the curious, and for that, Noah was relieved.
The chime of the doorbell set off a chain of events. Digger’s excited yip woke Chloe with a start, her book falling to the floor. Mike rubbed his eyes and thankfully stopped smacking his lips. Caleb choked on the last gasp of a snore, and Quinn cursed at the stain on his shirt.
His mighty team.
Following Digger to the door, Noah spied a female form through the leaded glass. Pulling back the solid oak, he smiled. Reagan Edwards, bundled up against the frigid night air, waved a mitten-covered hand and offered him a shy smile. Crikey, he had a soft heart for the shy ones.
“I hope I’m not too early.”
“Come in, luv. You’ve saved me from the snoring masses.” He opened the door wide as she entered.
“Thanksgiving dinner overload, huh?” Reagan unwrapped herself from the layers of coats, scarfs, and mittens. She handed each to Noah, who hung them on a hanger in the hall closet. Free of her woolen protective shield, Reagan bent down and rewarded Digger with a hearty scratch under the chin and behind his ears. Noah smiled. Points in her column.
With a light hand on her shoulder, he guided her behind the stairs and to the family room at the back of the house.
“Chloe’s excited to have you here with us for supper. Hell, the guys won’t know what to do with such a pretty lady.”
Round eyes widened, then lowered their gaze. A healthy blush stole her cheeks. Hmm, Flynn had guessed right. Quinn was in for a treat. And he never dined alone. Poor little rabbit wouldn’t know what hit her.
He rounded the corner. “Here we are. This room is our favorite. No furniture we can’t damage or stain with our hot mugs and—”
Noah blinked against the sight before him. Quinn stood in the center of the room, naked from the waist up. Chloe was wiping his chest with…was that his shirt? Caleb and Mike sat together on the couch, mild interest on Mike’s face while Caleb seemed enthralled with reading the back cover of Chloe’s book. Flynn’s jaw was locked tight.
“Well, umm, okay,” Reagan said from the doorway, looking everywhere but at the giant standing bare-chested behind Chloe.
“Luv, what’s going on?”
Scarlet flooded the little teacher’s face. Her mouth opened then closed. “Err, see, Quinn, he umm, he needed, um, help.”
Noah battled not to laugh outright. “Did he, luv? What kind of help required you to rub Baldy’s naked chest?”
He loved the way the green of her eyes flashed. “The laundry-stain kind. He’d spilt his coffee, and we were trying to clean everything up.”
“Have you guys seen this book she’s reading? Ménage and BDSM galore.” Caleb winked, and his eyes gleamed with that bloody twinkle that had women falling at his feet.
Funny, Chloe seemed to stand all the straighter.
“Put that down.” She shoved the shirt back into Quinn’s hands, who raised a brow, the edges of his mouth twitching.
Caleb’s laugh turned into a howl as Chloe accidently stomped on his toes as she marched past on her way to Reagan.
“Ooww!”
Chloe reached the doorway and wrapped Reagan in a hug. “I’m so glad you made it, honey.” She ushered Reagan further into the room and in front of the couch. “I’m not sure if you’ve met Mike. He’s been recuperating here at King’s Haven, but he’ll be as good as new in no time.”
Would you look at that? Their little teacher had turned mother hen. And Mike, cold-blooded SEAL sniper with a reputation for killing a man with his hands as easily as a bullet from his .300 Win Mag rifle, had become one of her chicks. Far from insulted, the burly commando’s face softened like melted butter on hot waffles.
Mike looked up to greet Reagan. And there it was. That flash of power, recognition, whatever you want to call it that lit up Mike’s eyes. Noah had to hand it to him. His recovery was seamless. It would take another trained to the same exacting standards to notice the breach of the man’s defenses.
“Reagan. That’s a pretty name, suits you.” Mike shook her hand and took his sweet time letting it go.
“Hi. Uh, thank you.” Her hand must have been on fire the way she snatched it back and held it to her front.
And Quinn? Crocodiles didn’t show as many teeth, nor were they as dangerous. The sweet librarian was in for one hell of an adventure if Noah’s instincts were on radar.
Chloe’s gaze zipped between Mike, Reagan, and Quinn. Time he stepped in and saved the day.
Noah clapped his hands together. “So, while the Yanks in the house snored the last hour away, Flynn and I prepared a feast. It’s in the kitchen, and you can all serve yourselves.”
“What he means to say, Reagan, is they heated up all the leftovers and put them on the table along with a stack of plates.” Walking past Noah, she rose on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Nice work, buddy. What do I owe you for stepping into the culinary breach?”
Flynn snuck in behind her, cupping the cheeks of her bottom with his hands. He dipped his head, his mouth an inch from her ear. “No worries, luv. We’ll be sure to collect later.”
Her shiver reverberated right through Noah’s shirt. Damn if his jeans didn’t start feeling tight.
“Reagan, after you.” Quinn swept his hand before him. There was nothing left for their guest to do but walk ahead. Noah’s gaze met Quinn’s as she hustled past. Determination screamed back at him. Yep, game on.
Hearing a grunt from behind, Noah turned back to Mike, but Caleb put out a hand to wave him away, mindful to hide the gesture from their injured comrade. Mike’s healing path had entered that tricky phase. If he needed help, he’d ask for it. Which would work if he wasn’t such a stubborn bastard.
Standing tall, Mike let out a harsh breath. “I’m sick of this shit.”
“Yeah, but you’ll do your therapy and get your ass to the doctor on schedule or I’ll hogtie you and take you there myself.” Quinn glared back at Mike. No one doubted he’d carry out that threat.
“Men, you have other things to occupy yourselves with tonight.” Caleb nodded toward the kitchen, which Reagan had just entered.
“Damn straight.” Refusing the cane Caleb offered, Mike limped into the kitchen.
Flynn stepped close to Quinn and clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, mate. You can’t let the bastard have all the fun. Let’s trip him up in the hallway.”
Just like that, Flynn dispersed the remaining tension. As much as Noah might be the natural born leader, Flynn was the glue that held everyone together.
The large kitchen table groaned under platters and bowls filled with turkey, maple whipped sweet potatoes, Gretchen’s secret stuffing mixture, wild rice with dried fruits and nuts, and green bean casserole amongst other dishes. Chloe and Reagan were sitting at the table. He and Flynn exchanged amused glances. Chloe had made sure her friend was protected, at least on one side, from Quinn and Mike.
Not that it was hard to miss her not-so-subtle hand g
estures for either he or Flynn to occupy the chair on Reagan’s other side. What was she doing, semaphore? With a soft chuckle, Flynn sat on the other side of their guest.
Quinn came back from the mudroom, where he’d snagged a clean T-shirt from the dryer. Noah noted that it was one of his. After stretching over Quinn’s linebacker shoulders, he’d get to enjoy the T-shirt’s new loose fit.
Digger made himself at home in his doggy bed. It was a wonder the dog was able to move at all with Chloe and Caleb sneaking him tidbits all through the day.
“Reagan, how was your dinner at Phyllis’s?” Flynn poured the women each a glass of iced tea.
“I had a great time. We had turkey with all the trimmings.” Reagan glanced over the abundance of dishes scattered over the table. “I have to admit, it wasn’t nearly as big a spread as you have here. Chloe, you went to so much effort. It’s no wonder the guys were sleepy.”
Noah would pay a million dollars at a time to see the kind of flushed joy that filled his sub’s face at Reagan’s words. It transformed her from beautiful to mesmerizing, lighting her eyes.
Caleb nodded. “Reagan, you have no idea. She and Gretchen spoiled us plenty today. Plus, we each got a goodie bag of Thanksgiving cookies. Man, my dad is gonna be so jealous.”
Chloe blushed. “I have a bag for you, too, Reagan.”
“Oh, wow, thanks.” Reagan scooped a helping of roasted carrots onto her plate. “I’ll probably have to hide them from the readers and volunteers. Maybe I’ll keep them for when I’m reading at night.”
“Mike and I will let you share ours.” Quinn’s smile did bugger all to soften the predatory gleam in his eyes.
Chloe coughed on her sip of tea.
Noah almost felt sorry for Reagan as she dipped her gaze and shoveled what seemed an inordinate amount of carrots into her mouth.
It would also be damned hard to miss the heated stare his meek sub was shooting in his direction. If he was going to be held accountable for every strike the guys made to the librarian, he’d be on his knees in no time. Not an option. Time for some fun.
“Chloe loves to share, don’t you, sweetie?”
A strangled sound issued from her throat, followed by a volley of deep chuckles from the men. Even Reagan, who’d grown up in King’s Bluff, giggled.
Noah had to hand it to Chloe. She recovered like a true veteran. One sip of her iced tea and she fired dead center. “Sure, why not? Two for the price of one? A smart girl grabs a bargain when it’s served right up to her.”
Well, that was his arse spanked. Hell, he’d even let her see his grin.
“Caleb, you all set for when Sheriff Quilter retires?” Reagan passed Flynn the bowl of cranberries before facing Caleb.
“Sure am, honey. I’ve spoken with the town council, they’re happy for me to serve out the rest of Roy’s term, and he’s willing to stay on for another few weeks to get me settled. There’s still two years left on his term.”
“So, we’re stuck with you, huh?” Chloe teased.
Noah smiled to himself. The change in the little teacher from two days ago to now was startling. The true recollection of Hank Young’s death had unlocked her spirit, allowing her to relax in front of Caleb and the rest of the team. Now he and Flynn could move toward building a future beyond simply protecting Chloe. Right after he re-educated Flynn on his interpersonal skills and put a stop to Chloe’s Nancy Drew impersonation.
Last night’s dinner conversation, if that’s what you could call Chloe’s questions about Flynn’s past and his unceasing ability to divert any answers into a question of his own, had made Noah’s back molars ache. He’d get to the bottom of that farce soon enough. For now they’d celebrate.
Tonight’s dinner conversation flowed with the usual raucous banter expected at King’s Haven. Quinn stared at Reagan, who fidgeted in her chair so often Flynn asked her if there was a problem with her chair. That earned Flynn and him a glare from Chloe.
“I volunteer Caleb and Quinn to make the coffee. We can have it in the living room and let our waists recuperate.” Noah quirked his lips at Quinn’s loud sigh.
“I second that marvelous suggestion from the chairman.” Flynn slapped his hand on the table.
“Let’s make our escape and grab the best seats on the couch.” Chloe glanced at Reagan and scooted back in her chair.
Noah stood, waiting for the women to pass, when his cell rang. At the same moment, Caleb and Flynn’s ringtones echoed in the room. His gaze snapped to Flynn, whose face reflected the same tightness that twisted Noah’s gut.
“Noah King.”
“Noah, its Floyd Harris.” King’s Bluff’s Volunteer Fire Chief shouted above the din of noise in the background. “I’m sorry, buddy, Chloe Morgan’s house is on fire. We’ve got the whole crew here, but it’s burning way too hot. This was deliberate, Noah. There’s accelerant all over the place. Chloe’s with you, right?”
Rage, savage and brutal, burned through him like a hot knife dragged over skin. “Yeah, Floyd, she’s here, safe.” He locked his gaze on Chloe, who stood quietly next to Reagan.
In the background, he heard Caleb’s curse as he spoke into his cell.
“Noah, Flynn, what’s wrong?” Chloe’s plea snapped him into action.
“We’re on our way.” He shoved his cell in his shirt pocket and grabbed Chloe by her arms. Flynn came to stand beside her, his hand shaking as he brushed back her hair. “Honey, there’s been a fire at your house. Flynn and I are going there now.” He glanced at Caleb, receiving a nod as he ended his own call. “Caleb will follow us.”
“A fire?” Chloe blinked and wobbled in his arms.
Flynn cursed and dragged a chair underneath her. “Sit, honey.” Both men helped lower her into the chair and dragged chairs of their own to surround her. Flynn locked an arm around her shoulders. Noah rubbed her hands. How the hell had they gotten so cold?
“Will they…” she gulped. “Will they be able to s–save the house?”
God, he hated to do this, but she deserved the truth. “Baby, I’m sorry. The chief said the fire’s too hot. His best guess is we’re looking at arson. We don’t know yet what, if anything, can be salvaged.”
“This doesn’t make sense. Did Trent do this?”
Flynn’s shoulders stiffened under his shirt in his obvious battle to contain his anger. Noah flicked him a glance. Flynn gritted his teeth but nodded.
Noah squeezed her hands. “We don’t know yet, Chloe, but I promise you, we’ll find the answers.” He stood and gathered her into his arms and kissed her with all the strength he could muster. She clung to him with a desperation that shredded his heart. He wanted to hunt this bastard down, skin him alive, and hang his carcass to freeze in the snow. Before he’d grant the bastard the relief of death, he’d wring from him a scream for mercy for every year he’d made Chloe live with the guilt of Hank’s death. Then he’d—
A tiny whimper brought him back to reality. He broke off his kiss.
“Noah, I can’t breathe.” Chloe gasped.
“Jesus, I’m sorry, luv.” He unwound his arms. And he had the nerve to question whether Flynn had his own shit together?
Noah ran his cheek against the silk of her hair and then kissed her forehead. He stepped back so Flynn could have his moment.
Behind their little huddle, Caleb, Quinn, and Mike spoke in low tones. Reagan made herself busy making coffee, every few seconds casting a worried glance at Chloe but leaving her to her men. Noah was grateful for her show of tact.
He walked over to the men. “Caleb, you’ll follow us in your own truck?”
“Yes. Sheriff Quilter’s at the scene. Seems there’s a bit of a crowd but no witnesses. The crew contained the blaze to the house. The surrounding properties are safe.”
“Thank God for that, at least.” Noah scrubbed a hand over his neck. What a fucked-up night.
Quinn’s hand settled on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about the women. Mike and I will guard them. I’ll ring Jeb and the
other guys so they know what’s happening. We’ll settle Reagan in one of the rooms upstairs.”
“Uh, hang on. I should just go home, get out of your hair.”
“No.” Quinn’s voice brooked no argument.
At any other time, Noah would have laughed at the sight of the librarian blinking with her mouth hanging open.
“Now, look—”
“Leaving is not an option, Reagan.” Mike crossed his arms across his chest, an imposing sight as he leaned against the bench. “We don’t know if someone started the fire to draw some of us away from the house. In the dark of night, you could be mistaken for Chloe. I’d lay odds they’d strike at you when you were on your own, driving home.”
“You should just give in gracefully, honey. It’s either that or we’ll look the other way while Quinn and Mike tie you to a chair.” Noah ignored her gasp. “Besides, I think Chloe could really use some company while we’re gone. I’d consider it a personal favor.”
Reagan seemed to work hard at ignoring both Quinn and Mike, who were smiling, no doubt imagining tying her to said chair. “Okay, sure. I’ll stay, for Chloe.” This last bit she added with a glare at Quinn and Mike.
“Ready?” Flynn’s voice cut in from behind, his arm around Chloe, her lips swollen from her men’s combined attention.
Each step to Chloe seemed to take forever. “I want your promise, Chloe, you’ll obey Quinn and Mike. No questions.” Noah’s hand cradled her cheek, catching the soft tremble of her jaw.
She hitched a laugh, but its power was watery. “Flynn’s read me the riot act. I promise, Noah.”
“That’s my girl.”
With a final nod to Quinn and Mike, he strode out to his office, straight to the gun cabinet, and collected his SIG Sauer. A check of the knife that took permanent residence inside his left boot and he was ready. Flynn performed the same weapons check, adding a small pistol strapped to his ankle.