“We’re almost at our office. I’ll explain everything there. I promise.” Although the promise was aimed at Asher, Luke glanced at Jessica before focusing on the streets that became busier as they neared Manhattan.
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear an explanation, though. Hell, he didn’t even know if he wanted to be in the car right now.
He was due back to Virginia in two days to find out his fate with the SEALs. Now that the fight was over all he wanted to do was get stupid drunk.
But curiosity got the best of him, so he stayed tight-lipped until they were in the parking garage of a skyscraper.
He eased out of the car slowly, as if he’d been the one getting battered in the cage tonight.
When he faced Jessica in the garage, she kept her eyes low as she tightened the belt of her coat.
When Luke came around to their side of the car, Asher waved a finger between them. “Are you two together?”
“Hell, no. This is my sister. Jessica.”
A rock dropped in his stomach, and he staggered back a step. Shit.
“I know, I know.” Luke showed his palms. “It’ll make sense soon.”
Did he really not know Asher had a history with his sister?
Luke pointed to the elevators, and Asher maintained his distance behind them as they walked, ignoring her long legs beneath skinny jeans and tall brown boots.
In the elevator, Luke punched in a passcode, and they began to ascend a moment later. “You good?” Luke angled his head, observing Asher.
“I don’t know what I am to be honest.” He fought the urge to study Jessica, now that they were in better lighting.
Brother. The word rotated through his mind like a record skipping.
There were rules, and one of them was you didn’t bang a Teamguy’s sister. Jessica had omitted that part before she’d ridden him like there was no tomorrow.
He rolled his eyes skyward and eased out a steady breath to stop his dick from leaping up at attention at the memory of her tits smashed to his chest.
Luke tipped his head toward the parting doors, but Asher motioned for Jessica to exit. “Ladies first.” He told himself he was being a gentleman, and it had nothing to do with his desire to check out her ass, which he wanted to sink his teeth into like a peach.
The khaki wool coat didn’t hide the sway of her hips with each step. Her buns of damn steel—undoubtedly hard-earned—had become a permanent fixture in his memory from the moment he’d laid eyes on her back in Aleppo.
“You sure you’re okay?” Luke arched a brow.
Asher blinked, realizing he was still standing in the elevator, simply watching Jessica walk farther and farther away. “Yeah.” He finally stepped into the lobby.
“We can talk in Jessica’s office,” Luke said.
Asher forced his shit-kickers, as his sister liked to call them, to move.
“So.” Jessica was standing behind her desk, coat off and arms folded, when he entered. The white cashmere of her sweater accentuated her curves and had his forearms tightening at the sight of her.
Long, light-blonde hair. Ice-blue eyes. High cheekbones. A straight nose. And kiss-me full lips.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her mouth, a mouth that had somehow taken every inch of his—
“Asher?” Luke’s voice effectively killed his thoughts.
“Yeah?” He went over to the chair in front of her desk and dropped down, gripping the arms to try and pull himself together.
Going back home. The fight. And now her. A parade of the past . . . Maybe it was too much in one night, even for him.
“So, why am I here?” He glanced at the hard set of her jaw. Did she hate him? Hell, she was the one who’d left his bed without so much as a goodbye.
Luke stood off to Jessica’s side in a rigid position. “I wanted to recruit you three years ago to our team, but you’d just hooked up with DEVGRU, so I didn’t think you’d want in.”
Our? His gaze flicked to Jessica before meeting Luke’s eyes.
“My sister and I run an on-the-books company with former Teamguys—Scott & Scott Securities. But we also lead a black-ops group for the president which very few people know about. It comprises of two teams—Bravo and Echo. Jessica, myself, and nine other guys.” A grimace touched his lips. “Er, eight guys.”
Marcus. He straightened in his seat but kept his hold on the chair arms.
“We’re a man down. Marcus was our best tracker.” A touch of anger reverberated through his tone.
“Did you catch the bastards who took him out?” Asher was back on his feet, his legs itching to rise. He couldn’t sit while having a conversation about losing a Teamguy.
“No.” Jessica’s arms fell to her sides. “Not yet.”
“We’re still active duty, but we handle ops DEVGRU can’t.” He pointed toward the floor. “This place is the front.”
“And you’re asking me to join?” He crossed his arms, the dull throb of his heart like an echo in his ears. Low. Steady. A constant booming. “You should know I might be off the Teams soon.”
“I know.” Luke shook his head. “You made the right call. I would’ve done the same as you. Hell, it’s one of the reasons I want you.”
“Because I don’t follow rules?” Because my superiors think I’m unpredictable? Uncontrollable? He almost laughed, even though it hurt like hell on the inside when he thought about it.
The Teams were everything to him, and he hadn’t been sure what would happen if he got suspended or the boot. Maybe he’d end up back on the streets or in the ring, like tonight.
Black Squadron—Charlie Team—had been his life, but Luke was offering him a second chance.
How many second chances had he already had? Maybe more than he deserved.
“You got the job done,” Luke said firmly. “And more importantly, you refused to leave a man behind even when your CO ordered you not to go back into the compound.”
Luke had left out the part where Asher had slugged his commanding officer across the jaw, but he wasn’t exactly itching to relive that moment.
He circled the desk and stood only a foot or so away from Asher. “I need someone on the team who is willing to take risks others may not.”
He scratched at his beard. “I don’t know.” He turned away, needing a moment to gather his thoughts.
“I also need someone to remind me that what’s best isn’t always protocol.” Luke’s voice became low, gravelly. “Maybe I shouldn’t have followed orders. Maybe I should never have let Marcus go alone on the op that killed him.”
His words had Asher slowly turning around, leaving him with only one choice—one answer. This was no time for indecision. It was now or never. “Okay.”
He saw the flash of relief in Luke’s eyes, like a shit-ton of bricks had been lifted from his shoulders.
Asher’s back muscles pinched tight. “But . . . I can’t live in this city.”
Luke’s brows stitched together, but he said, “We have locations all over the States. You don’t need to spend much time here.”
“Is your past going to be a problem?” Jessica’s palms landed on the desk. “Those people you were with tonight will—”
“No.” As long as I don’t live here, I’m good.
“Thank you.” Luke faced him with an extended hand. “It might be a rough transition with Marcus being gone, but this will be good for the team.” Luke released a hard sigh, and Asher could feel the weight of his loss slam into him.
He released Luke’s palm and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck. He wasn’t too great at dealing with feelings either.
Luke cleared his throat. “Jessica has a few nondisclosure papers for you to sign from the president, and then we’ll handle the rest of the details tomorrow.”
“You can’t tell anyone, not even the guys from Charlie Team, about this,” Jessica added.
“I gotta make some calls.” Luke nodded. “I’ll be in my office. One door down. Come find me when you’re d
one.” And he left without another word.
Asher moved around the desk to confront Jessica now that they were alone. His hands slipped into his pockets to keep himself from reaching out to her. To touch her. To ensure she was real.
“What are you doing?” She tipped her chin to find his eyes and folded her arms as if to build a wall between them.
Still as arctic-cold as he remembered. Except between the sheets, of course.
“Why doesn’t he know we worked together in Aleppo?” He thought back to the op. He’d known her last name was Scott, but he hadn’t known Luke had a sister, and even if he had, what were the odds they’d be related?
“I didn’t see a reason to tell him.” She dropped her eyes, hiding her gaze beneath long lashes.
“I don’t see why you’d feel the need to keep it from him.” He tensed. “Unless, of course, you were worried he’d find out what happened between us.”
The way a newbie fires a 9mm, not used to the recoil—that was Jessica right now. A jerk to her shoulders, to her neck. A quick snap of unease. A lack of comfort at the situation at hand.
“There never was an us,” she said after a beat. “It was one night.”
He casually shrugged. “True. You left before the sun came up.”
Her eyes seized his. They were too blue. Too everything. “I had a plane to catch. Besides, it was just sex.” She stepped back, bumping into her chair.
He assessed her for another moment, trying to get a read on her. “Are you against me joining the team?”
“Yes.” She dropped her arms. “But not because of the thing between us.”
He angled his head. “I thought there wasn’t an us.”
She looked toward the door, a pinch of irritation flaring on her face. “You make me nervous. You hate authority. You don’t ever—”
“You didn’t seem to have an issue with me when you were muffling your screams with a pillow so you didn’t wake the barracks.”
“I don’t normally hook up with SEALs.” She flicked her wrist. “Or anyone in uniform, for that matter.”
He couldn’t stop the smirk that tugged at his lips. “So, I was an exception?”
“That night was . . .” She lowered herself back into her seat.
It probably wasn’t the time or place to be revisiting the past, but they’d need to clear the air if they were going to work together.
“Why were you really fighting tonight?” she asked, pivoting, and he’d give her an A for effort. “Luke may not care, but I do.”
He considered changing the topic, but he knew she’d never let it go. “I like it,” he answered, a glib tone to his voice. “And I’m sure a spy like you is aware of my history.” My dark, shitty past. A past that would reach for him like the touch of Satan if he stayed in the city for too long.
She found her feet again. But even though she was five feet eight with boots on, she couldn’t compete with his height. A frustrated twist of her lips had him smiling again.
“Trying to get closer to kiss me, huh?”
Her eyes widened. “Asher,” she hissed and glanced at the door. Again.
“You know, I wouldn’t even be here tonight if you told your brother we’ve had sex.” He squinted one eye. “How many times did I make you come? Three or four?”
“I . . .”
He brushed the pad of his thumb down her cheek. She didn’t flinch. “But don’t worry, now that I know you’re Luke’s sister, I won’t even picture you naked while we work together.” He placed his hand over his heart. “Promise.”
A red crept up her throat and touched her cheeks.
He turned away before he showcased his dick attempting to tent out his jeans when he thought about their night together.
It wasn’t every day a man met a woman like her: a strikingly beautiful genius. Hell, her brains turned him on as much as her looks.
He’d been a sucker for smart women ever since his first crush on his teacher in the fifth grade. Hot Miss Klein.
“Please don’t make this hard for me,” she whispered.
He looked back at her. “As long as you, uh, don’t make things hard for me.” His brows quickly rose and fell.
A smile almost touched her mouth, and it was like fireworks erupted in his chest.
It’d been over three years since they’d had sex, so why did she have his pulse racing like this?
“Can we be civil?”
“You think I’m capable?”
“No.” She held out her palm, and he fully faced her and clasped it. “But I can be hopeful.”
“Well,” he said, raising both brows and smiling, “here’s to hope.”
She quickly pulled her hand free of his, went back to her desk, and unlocked a drawer. “Are you sure you don’t have any questions before you sign away your life?”
He shrugged. “What’s to know? I may be out of a job in two days.”
“That the only reason why you said yes?” She lifted a brow.
“I guess you’ll have to find out, Peaches.”
Chapter One
Mitry-Mory, France
Three years later
“We’re chasing daylight, boys,” Asher said over his comm. “Three more tangos left, and we’re out of here.”
“Bravo One, this is Two.” Owen’s voice popped into his ear. “We’ve got a problem. I have two tangos in my sights—they’ve both got s-belts. They’re in the room with the laptop.”
Asher peered over his shoulder at Bravo Four, Liam, and raised a fist into the air to hold position. “Bravo Two, this is One. Get them away from the computer before they set those damn things off.”
“Roger that,” Owen replied, and a battery of gunshots sounded in Asher’s ear.
“Coming in for an assist, Bravo Two.” Asher clutched his 50-caliber sniper rifle and motioned for Liam to move back.
“Bravo One, you have seven minutes to get to the exfil site,” Jessica said over the radio.
“Copy that, but we’re—” Asher’s words were cut off as a blast from down the hall threw him back, rocking his chest cavity as he fell.
“Asher. Asher?” A voice was in his ears, but he couldn’t get his eyes to open.
Salt on his tongue. Wet sand on his back.
Hands and feet bound on the beach.
Why am I back in BUD/S? Asher’s stomach squeezed as he tried to force his eyes open, to force the ringing in his ears away.
SEALs aren’t made, boy—they’re born. His training officer had hollered the timeless saying at him on the beach as he had done flutter kicks. Twenty-five percent of you won’t live to see thirty. You gonna be one of them?
Asher had shaken his head. No, sir!
You gonna be a quarterback, boy? Or a Teamguy?
Teamguy, sir! Asher had shouted as he’d continued to kick, his body fatigued as all hell.
Good. Now get up!
“Asher! Get up, man! Get up!”
He blinked back to the present and finally forced his eyes open, the ringing in his ears subsiding, which was a good sign. “You okay?” he asked Liam. He coughed, attempting to clear his lungs.
“I’m good,” Liam answered and handed him his rifle once Asher was on his feet.
“Bravo Two, this is One; you copy?”
Silence.
“Do a radio check,” Asher sputtered to Liam.
“Nothing on my end.” Liam swiped at the tendrils of smoke still curling in the air around them.
“What the hell?” His brown eyes narrowed as he spied Jessica rounding the corner at the far end of the hall.
But at the sound of something coming from the direction of the blast, Asher whipped around to see a tango charging their way, gun in hand.
“Get Jessica out of here!” Asher hollered.
“To a job well done.” Asher raised his bottle in the air and clinked it with Owen’s.
“And to only five more days of you being Bravo One,” Jessica added and touched her beer to the gathered bottles amongst th
e team. “I can’t wait until Luke is back to take over with me.”
“Oh, come on, you loved having me at your side.” Asher tipped back his beer and guzzled it.
“Like a root canal,” she said with a laugh.
“Really, though, you two survived over two months without killing each other while Luke’s been gone,” Knox noted and lifted his brows, a smile in his eyes. “I say that’s cause for celebration when we get back.”
“Yeah, you’re right—I guess I managed not to kill him.” Jessica took a seat on the only available barstool and swiveled around to face the team. The rest of the guys—Asher, Liam, Knox, Wyatt, and Owen—remained standing in front of her.
“Not that you didn’t try earlier today.” Asher touched his abdomen, remembering the bullet that had hit him. “You shouldn’t have come into the compound.” You could’ve died, damn it.
She took a sip of her Guinness. “And you shouldn’t have lost your focus and let that guy get the drop on you.”
He rolled his eyes. How could he not lose focus when bullets were flying, an IED had been detonated, and she decided to join the party?
“His vest caught the slug. Just a bruise beneath.” Liam tapped him on the shoulder.
His abs had turned purple from the impact, but yeah, he’d be fine. Jessica was good—so he was good.
“But, seriously, a job bloody well done,” Wyatt, normally on Echo Team, said. He was taking Asher’s spot as Bravo Three since Asher had assumed the role of Bravo One while Luke was on paternity leave.
“It was a huge win for us.” Owen nodded and then began texting on his phone. Asher assumed he was contacting Samantha, his fiancée, and letting her know he was okay.
Nine bad guys down. And one laptop full of names of arms dealers supplying weapons to terrorists. It’d been a good fucking day. Even if they’d nearly been blown to hell, and Asher had gotten shot.
Jessica wedged her bottle between her thighs and swept her hair into a messy bun, some loose strands drifting around her face.
“Another round, darlin’.” Liam thickened his Aussie accent for the bartender. “S'il vous plaît,” he added and winked.
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