by Joss Wood
As the door opened, Sam looked at Jett and raised her eyebrows. She’d left him in bed at Stone’s Lennox Hill house, his skin tanned against the white sheets of her old bed. “I thought you were asleep.”
“Honey, I’m always going to know when you leave me,” Jett said in his soft, growly voice as he guided her into the hallway. Sam reached for the hallway switch and light revealed the chaos within.
“I thought we were going to do this in the morning?” Jett asked, pushing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. His eyes were steady on her face, full of concern. “And why do you feel like you need to confront the ghosts alone?”
Because I am going to be alone, Sam silently replied. Being alone is going to be who I am, what I do. Instead of answering, Sam looked around, her nose wrinkling at the smudges of fingerprint ink covering the bannister, making obscene patterns on her wall. Sam saw the two bullet holes in her wall, remembered their hiss and their heat as they passed by her head. She felt lightheaded and extended her hand to Jett. When his hand covered hers, his strength flowed into her and her head cleared.
Jett walked over to the staircase and sat down on the third step, tugging her down to sit next to him, shoulders pressing together, thighs aligned. Sam stared at the ragged hem of his jeans, his big boots.
“Quite an interesting day, huh?” Jett said, cupping her knee with his big hand.
Sam released a small laugh. Only a Special-Ops soldier could call her day interesting. Terrifying, sad, earth shattering were better words to sum up the last twenty hours.
Sam wrapped her arms around her waist and looked across the hall to the kitchen. She had to ask him, maybe he knew the answer. “How did I miss it, Jett?”
“Miss what, Sam?”
“Their evil, the craziness.”
Jett’s fingers squeezed her knee. “What? They didn’t give out a crystal ball with those big-ass degrees of yours? Or is yours broken?”
Sam ignored his gentle sarcasm. “I’m a trained professional, Jett. Not once did I consider either of them as being a serial killer or The Recruiter.”
“Okay, let’s talk this through,” Jett said, his voice patient. “While you took that two-hour bath earlier, I read the background check that both Cracker and Seth did on Knox. It was as he said, Sam, there was nothing that suggested he was psycho. Solid upbringing, solid school record. Popular with the schoolmates, with the ladies. Smart as hell. If it wasn’t for Cracker managing to prove that he was in all cities where the murders took place, his attack on you and his confession, we’d be swinging in the wind. No DNA, nothing. Law enforcement is shocked, they can’t believe it either, his colleagues are gutted. He didn’t just fool you, Sam.”
That made her feel slightly better. “I might be forgiven for not spotting one killer but two? Every time someone considers me for a job, they are going to think that I was snowed by not one but two psychos. My credibility is shot.”
“You’re tired and overreacting,” Jett said, a commanding note in his voice.
“And Pytheon’s reputation is going to take a hit, Jett,” Sam said, leaning her temple on his shoulder. Jett turned his head to place a kiss in her hair.
“Yeah, it probably is. A world renowned, hard ass security operation who was, unknowingly, harbouring an international criminal? Yeah, they are going to take some flak.”
Sam felt the burn of tears, thinking of how hard Stone worked, how much he believed in Pytheon and the work they did. He had to be feeling gutted, like his world had ended. Sam placed her face in her hands, grief and anger rocking her.
Jett’s big hand drew comforting circles on her back. “But I think both you and Pytheon are going to be just fine. Sydney—”
“Who?”
“Stone’s bodacious Barbie.”
Ah, the brunette Stone was not dating but wanted to.
“That operation is going ahead and, as Seth informed me, if they pull it off, Pytheon’s reputation will be thoroughly restored.”
“Will they pull it off?” Sam asked, worried. She didn’t bother asking for details, if Jett had any, he wouldn’t share.
“Of course they will. It’s a risk but, hell, if anyone can do it it’ll be Kelby and Seth, with Cracker’s help.”
“Are you going to be involved?”
Jett hauled in a sigh and when her eyes looked into his she saw regret but determination. Jett had other plans and they didn’t include working for Pytheon anymore. Dammit.
“What are you going to do about this house?” Jett asked, changing the subject.
Sam shrugged. “Clean it up, paint it, sell it. I’ll probably have to take a financial hit since two people died here but I have to sell it; I can’t see myself living here again. Too many memories.”
“So where will you go?” Jett quietly asked.
“I might stay with Stone or move in with Fern. I don’t know, I haven’t thought that far.” She hadn’t thought much beyond how she was going to deal with Jett walking out of her life.
“I have a better idea. I’m renting an apartment in Harlem and it’s up for sale. We can either buy it together or we can look for another place, in the city or somewhere else, I don’t care.”
Sam pulled back to look at him, thinking he was joking but he looked utterly serious. “You want us to live together?”
Jett pushed a curl off her forehead and tried to smile. “Yeah. I want you to get your consulting practice going again, to get back to your research. I want to be there when you wake up and hold you while you fall asleep. I want to be with you.”
Sam’s heart felt like it was about to kick its way through her chest. “And what will you do?”
She saw a flicker of panic in Jett’s eyes, a smidgeon of regret. “I’ll consult. Maybe hire on as a security specialist. I’m sure there is something I can do that doesn’t take me away from you, that doesn’t put me in danger.”
Jett looked around her hallway before wiping his hand across his face. “I get it, Sam. Seeing you in danger from Knox and then nearly losing you to Mary, I get it. I get the worry and the despair and the feeling that you need a defibrillator on hand. I love you, I hope that you might feel something close for me, but either way, if you need me to be safe, I’ll be safe. If it means being with you...”
Sam didn’t say anything; she couldn’t make the cords in her throat work, so she just stared at him, trying to process this new batch of information.
But Jett, sounding nervous, just kept talking. “Maybe, in a few years, or months, we could have a kid. I heard that raising kids is like a war zone so I’ll get my adrenalin high from looking after them.”
It was such a generous offer, so honorable. Sam placed the sides of her hands to her lips, unable to believe what she was hearing. If she heard Jett correctly, he loved her and he’d give her what she wanted, a lover who didn’t put himself in danger, who was prepared to sacrifice his compulsion to serve and protect to love her, to make her feel emotionally safe.
She was honored, she was humbled...
She couldn’t do it.
“I’m sorry, Jett, that’s not going to work for me.”
Sam saw the devastation in Jett’s eyes but before she could explain, he was on his feet and walking toward the door. Oh, hell no! That wasn’t the way this was going to go!
Sam sprang to her feet, flew across the hallway, and launched herself at his back, hooking her legs around his waist and her arms around her neck. “Slow down, Legend.”
Jett started to pull her arms away from him and Sam could feel the tension in his body, the pain he was trying so desperately to hide.
“I love you and because I love you, I will not ask you to be less than you can be.” Sam spoke the words, clearly and concisely in his ear.
Jett slammed to a stop and Sam slid down his body, ducking under his arm to stand in front of him, her hands sneaking under the open flaps of his jacket to rest on his chest.
Jett looked confused. “Want to explain that statement a little m
ore, Red?”
Oh, he sounded calm but Sam could feel his rapid heartbeat under her hand, she could see the way his Adam’s apple was moving up and down his throat. She noticed the hope in his eyes...
“I’m not going to ask you to be less than who you are and who you are is a warrior, Jett. You need to be out there, with Seth and Kelby, righting wrongs.”
The tips of Jett’s fingers touched her face. “And you? Us?”
“I’m going to trust that you will be okay. I’m going to trust that you’ll come home to me as soon as you can, as often as you can. There will be days when I am going to hate the situation, when I will probably bitch and whine but I promise that my love will never be conditional. When you decide to change careers it will be because it will be something you, and only you, want to do.”
“God, Sam.” Jett’s arms pulled her into him and he pushed his face into her neck. For the first time, Sam felt him shaking. She rubbed her hand across his back. There were just one or two things she still had to say. “If you die, I promise that I will dig you up and beat you back to death.”
Jett’s laugh pushed air into her neck. “Fair deal. But I have no intention of dying, I have far too much to live for.”
Sam nodded, feeling at peace. Oh, this wasn’t going to be easy but they’d make it. They had love on their side. “Did you mean it about loving me? About sharing a place, having babies?”
Jett stood up and held her face, gently kissing her before nodding. “I do love you, so much. Yes to the apartment and yes to the babies.”
Sam blinked away her happy tears. “I know it’s not traditional but since I’m on a roll and I’m getting all these yesses... will you marry me?”
Jett’s full, joy-filled smile chased away the last of her fears, melted the last ice chips of worry. “Hell to the yes, Red. Pick a date and I’ll be there.”
“Good deal,” Sam murmured as his mouth covered hers.
It was, Sam decided as her world held her in his strong arms and kissed her, a very good deal indeed.
The End
The Pytheon Security Series
Get every book in the Pytheon Security series – available now!
Book 1: Claimed by the Warrior
Jed Hamilton’s story
Book 2: His Toughest Call
Seth Halcott’s story
Book 3: In the Line of Fire
Jett Smith-Jones’ story
Here’s a sneak peek of Claimed by the Warrior, book 1 in the Pytheon Security series!
Joss Wood
Copyright © 2015 Joss Wood
McKenna Dixon heard a thump in her hallway and the sound of heavy boots on her wooden floors. Daisy was too young and Leah, her nine o’clock client, too tiny to make so much noise. Besides, the front door was locked...wasn’t it? After another heavy tread, McKenna walked to the half open door that separated her kitchen from the hallway and watched a six-foot-something example of pure, undiluted, prime grade male drop a very battered backpack on her highly polished wooden floor. He looked around her hall, dominated by an impressive, nineteenth century hand carved staircase.
He looked hot, he looked dangerous, he looked like someone she could imagine ripping off her panties and doing her up against the nearest wall. McKenna placed her fist on her sternum and sucked in what she prayed was a calming breath. And this is why I should have regular sex, four or so years was far too long to go without having a proper, non-DIY orgasm. If I’d dated, had sex occasionally, I wouldn’t be standing here, flushed and horny and wearing suddenly damp panties. She’d tried to date, she argued back, and she now had a stalker who wouldn’t leave her alone. Hasthtag EpicFail.
McKenna watched, fascinated, as he ripped his sunglasses from his face, revealing deep set eyes under strong brows. Black designer cap, stubble, fascinating eyes with deep, gold irises ringed with black. Old, faded, clean, well-fitting jeans with a rip across a hard thigh and grubby, dusty tennis shoes. He yanked the cap from his head and ran his hands through his overlong, caramel-colored hair before shoving the ball cap into the back pocket of his jeans and hooking his glasses on the neck of his T-shirt. Seeing a clasp undone on the side pocket of his rucksack, he dropped to his haunches to fix it and McKenna noticed the long, well defined muscles bunching under his thin T-shirt, the curve of his buttock, the strength of his neck. She felt excited and unsettled and a little horrified that she was attracted to this messy, grumpy looking stranger. She didn’t even know who he was...
McKenna yanked in a horrified breath. God, she didn’t know who he was! She was just standing there like an idiot, perving over a strange man, and wondering how good his world class ass would feel under her hands and whether that mobile mouth could deliver the molten kisses she was fantasizing about.
She banged her palm against her temple to kick-start her brain. She had the brains of a flea; she wasn’t 100 percent sure that her stalker was Craig; it wasn’t like he’d signed any of his emails and the phone calls sounded like he was talking through a sock. So, in reality, her stalker could be anyone...this could be him! Or he could just be a handsome, ripped burglar. Or rapist. Or serial killer.
God, she had to stop watching those true crime channels.
Now spooked, McKenna heard light footsteps and she closed her eyes in horror. She peeked through the open door and saw her little daughter skipping down the stairs, black curls bouncing and her smile as big as the sun. Her Rainbow nation child, with her milky, café au lait skin and light eyes, was a stunning mix of her Black Irish and Zoo’s Malay and African ancestry.
“Hello, who are you?” she asked the sexy stranger, interested and curious. McKenna sighed. Daisy was anything but shy and retiring.
“Hello,” he replied in a deep, mellow, sin-laced voice that sounded more English than American. “I’m Jed, who are you?”
“Daisy May Dixon,” Daisy replied in her piping voice.
McKenna used the cover of her voice to ease the door open and, walking as quietly as she could into the hallway, reached for the baseball bat she kept hidden behind the large, potted ornamental lemon tree. Grabbing it, she lifted it to her shoulder.
“My mommy wants to hit you with a bat. What did you do to make her mad?” Daisy asked and McKenna released a heartfelt groan.
“Nothing yet but the day is still young.” Sexy butt didn’t turn around, didn’t take his eyes off her daughter. “Can I ask you something?”
Daisy’s brilliant blue eyes flashed with excitement. “Sure.”
McKenna felt like an idiot just standing there, holding the bat up, not sure whether to swing or not. Neither the man nor Daisy seemed worried that she actually would take a swipe at his head. Huh.
He lowered his voice. “Is she still checking me out?”
“What do you mean?” Daisy asked, perplexed.
McKenna didn’t give him the chance to explain. “I was not checking you out!” she stated, her voice hot and her face flaming. She lowered the bat and put one fist on her hip.
Sexy guy... Burglar...the trespasser slowly turned and sent her a cocky half-smile. “Yeah, you were. It’s okay, I have no objection to hot women objectifying me.”
“I was not...I...you...dammit!”
“Big people are weird,” Daisy said on a heavy sigh as she continued her descent down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she looked at McKenna. “Hitting people isn’t nice, Mommy.”
It was weird hearing her mommy-knows-best voice coming out of her daughter’s mouth. McKenna swallowed a hot retort, but she kept a firm grip on the bat. She still didn’t know who the guy was and her next appointment was Leah Hamilton, not this...creature!
“Sometimes it is.”
McKenna glared at him. “Not helpful. Look, who are you and why are you in my house? How did you get in my house?”
He looked at the front door that stood open, allowing sunlight to spill into the hall. “Your front door was open and I walked on in. I thought this was a bridal salon?”
McKenna
waved her hand toward a door opposite them. “The salon is through there. I work by appointment only and I don’t have an appointment with you!”
His face tightened and McKenna caught the confusion that flashed in his eyes. She strengthened her grip on the bat and knew, with every atom in her body, that this man was dangerous. In more ways than ten.
He pinned her to the floor with those penetrating eyes. “I presume that you are McKenna Dixon?”
McKenna slowly nodded as Jed jammed his hands in the front pockets of those well-worn jeans.
Jed looked down at Daisy who, still staring up at him, was utterly fascinated. McKenna couldn’t blame her; he was scrumptious to look at. Speaking of Daisy...she glanced at her watch. They were so late, again. This wasn’t how she liked to start her day, especially when she had appointments with two of the pickiest socialites in Cape Town; one for a bridal gown and one for a ball gown. McKenna Dixon Designs. Who would’ve thought that the ex-party girl would make a reasonable living designing dresses?
“Mommy, when we get our puppies we’re going to name them Dora and Boots,” Daisy told her, sitting on the bottom stair and resting her chin in her hands.
“We’re not getting puppies, Daisy.” God, she couldn’t do the puppy argument now. She didn’t have the time or the inclination, especially since Daisy could teach mules a master class in stubbornness.
Daisy sent Jed a pleading look. “If I don’t get a puppy I’m going to die.”
Yeah, Daisy had definitely inherited Zoo’s dramatic streak. She saw that sexy mouth twitch. He slowly nodded. “Then I definitely think that you should get a puppy.”
McKenna banged the head of the bat on the floor.
“Still holding this, still prepared to use it,” she quietly murmured.
Judging by his relaxed stance, he didn’t look remotely concerned. She really had to work on her intimidation tactics.
McKenna glanced at her watch, realized how very late they were, and blew out a frustrated sigh. God, what a morning! And she still didn’t know why she had a sexy man in her hallway at eight fifty a.m. McKenna turned at the sound of footsteps behind her and Mattie, her cousin and the seamstress who translated her designs from paper into actual dresses, walked into the hall from the kitchen.