Almost Paradise

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Almost Paradise Page 22

by Chris Keniston


  “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Keeping his hands off her had been damn hard at the dinner party. Ever since he’d learned she was pregnant, he’d wanted to shout to the world he was going to be a father again. As often as Kara would let him, he’d sit with his hand on her stomach. Not doing or saying anything, just letting the warmth of his hand seep into his new child. Their new child.

  Knowing now what he’d missed with Bradley made him madder than a junkyard dog, but then he’d stop and remind himself that even if he had known about his ex-girlfriend’s pregnancy, having been active duty often meant missing these moments while deployed. That eased the hurt some. Only some. The important thing this time was he’s a part of Bradley’s life now and would be a part of this baby’s life from day one.

  “I detect serious thoughts.” Kara put her hand over Nick’s and leaned back against his chest.

  His chin rested on top of her head. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. But.” She pulled out of his embrace. “It’s been an awfully long day. If I don’t sit down, I’m going to fall down.”

  “Of course.” Springing around her, he reached the bed first, pulled back the sheets on her side, then stripped and crawled over her to his side of the bed. His hand immediately drew back to her still-flat tummy.

  Shifting her weight, Kara snuggled into her husband’s side and placed her hand over his. “Did you notice Billy and Angela?”

  “Notice? How could I miss them? He’s six foot two, and she was glued to his side most of the night.”

  “That’s what I mean. Every time I looked up and saw one of them, I saw the other.”

  “And your point?”

  “Did you see the way he touched her when Lexie shouted out we’re pregnant?”

  Drawing his head back, he looked down at her with a raised brow. “He touched her?” “On the shoulder.”

  “Ah.” He relaxed into the pillows. “Honestly, my eyes were on you, but I don’t consider a hand on the shoulder touching.” To prove his point, he moved his hand up to her breast and was rewarded by the nipple pebbling under his palm.

  She swatted gently at his hand. “No distracting allowed. This is important.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m worried about PTSD.”

  “PTSD?”

  “And Billy. Granted, the last few days I feel like I’m seeing a different side of him. But still, PTSD is not uncommon in military coming home from the Middle East. Especially ones with severe injuries.”

  Nick couldn’t argue the point.

  “Losing a leg is traumatic for anyone. Losing it in a deadly explosion has to be even harder. You told me he’s refused to see a therapist since he’s been home. He works too hard. Doesn’t appear to socialize outside of work. And he won’t go in the water. Do you know if he has nightmares?”

  “We all do.” Nick knew as well as anyone that nobody ever left war totally behind him. “I’ve thought about it. It’s why I talked to Ken awhile back.”

  “Ken’s a grief counselor.”

  “He’s a psychiatrist. But from what I’ve told him, he’s not convinced that Billy’s behavior is PTSD. Despite Billy’s refusal to see a counselor here, Uncle Sam wouldn’t have let him get away with that. There was no way he’d have gotten through Walter Reed without therapy for everything. And he did stay stateside for a few months after he completed physical therapy.”

  “Do you think he did counseling before he came home?”

  “I honestly don’t know. He won’t even talk to me about what went on. But I’ve seen some really angry, messed up people come home. The only sign of survivor’s guilt that won’t seem to go away is his unwillingness to face the water again.”

  “He does work a lot, too.”

  “I know, but he’s always been the go-to man for his family, fixing stranded cars and leaky faucets, so his doing that is the old Billy. Working at the shop until all hours is a bit of an escape, I’m sure. But compared to some of the guys coming home, Billy’s adjusted pretty damn well to his new life.” With Kara still snuggled against him, he could almost feel her processing the data and gathering her thoughts, and then she nodded her head.

  “I think he and Angela would be perfect for each other. Billy’s hand on her shoulder wasn’t just touching. It was moral support. He knew what was coming, and more importantly he knew it would be hard for her to see someone else having the baby she might never be able to have.”

  Squeezing her shoulder for reassurance, he kissed the top of her head. “Billy’s a good guy. Always has been a hell of a lot more sensitive to women than the rest of us. Though it shouldn’t be a surprise with him having three sisters.”

  “You do okay.” She smiled up at him.

  He dropped another quick kiss on her forehead. “I try.”

  “I don’t want Angela getting caught in some meltdown because none of us saw it coming.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen.” He slid the hand on her tummy up to her breast at the same time he nuzzled her neck right where he knew a little attention would make her crazy.

  Like a kitten turning to the sun, she swung an arm around his neck and a leg over his, her toes rubbing back and forth along his calf. “I want this for them. They both deserve to be deliriously happy.”

  “And don’t forget great make-up sex.” He nipped the sensitive spot on her neck and nearly groaned with satisfaction when she bowed with pleasure.

  “We haven’t had a fight,” she mumbled.

  “I know. Just making up for lost time.” His mouth came crashing down on hers, and somewhere in the back of his mind, the thought flashed that his wife was absolutely right. If there was even the slightest chance Angela could make Billy a happy man, too, Nick was all for it.

  * * *

  Jim Borden stretched out on the sleeper sofa and leaned upright against the cushions behind him. Bridget had blown a gasket when he’d announced he was coming to Kona to babysit a stranger and two kids. Well, the girl wouldn’t be a kid for long.

  Someone was going to have to keep a close eye on her pretty soon for completely different reasons than whoever killed her dad could be after her.

  But when he got the call from Chief Billy Everrett, the hounds of hell couldn’t have stopped him from coming. If the guy had asked him and the other men to come and plant a rose garden, they’d have come. All of them. The problem was getting through to Chief Petty Officer William Everrett that he’d never lost the loyalty of his men.

  For almost three years, Jim had tried to reach out to his former team member. And nothing. Billy had refused all visitors after the incident. As soon as Jim had been released from the hospital, he’d tried to see Billy. So had Doug and some of the other guys. No one got through to him. Billy might as well have built a stone wall around himself. They all knew he blamed himself for the explosion that cost Joe his life and changed everyone else’s in one way or another. Joe wasn’t the first buddy to get killed overseas, and he wouldn’t be the last. Especially in EOD. But what could they do if Billy wouldn’t see or talk to them?

  Before settling in, Jim had walked the complex again, secured the windows and doors, and now would spend the rest of the night making sure no one breached the perimeter. Not that he expected anyone to try. If whoever had caused the father’s accident hadn’t struck by now, he didn’t expect them to try tonight. But being prepared for the unexpected was what the team did best.

  With one eye on the doors, biding his time, all he had to do was keep this thickheaded woman and her two charges safe from some unknown character without a conscience. And then find a way to get his old friend back. Tall order in only seven days.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Smacked up against Billy, Angela’s head rested on his shoulder and one arm draped across his chest. A tuft of hair tickled his nose. But the more important matter at hand was the leg she’d flung over his thigh. With her foot tucked under his good leg, her knee rested dangerously close to the family
jewels.

  Together they had agreed when the best time of the month to conceive came around, she would pack a small bag and come spend a few days at his house. Under the same roof, they could have sex often enough to increase the odds of conception. He’d also realized that for a few moments before discussing his plan, she’d worried he had changed his mind about helping her conceive. That this happened after they’d slept together made him damn unhappy. No one had ever questioned his honor before. And that the possibility he would use her to get his rocks off had even occurred to her at all really bothered him. A lot.

  The decision made about staying at his house, she had awkwardly climbed out of bed, dragging the sheet with her to the bathroom. The careful movement told him he needed to do more to reassure her. Once he made a promise, a commitment, he could be counted on to stand by his word. Duty was second nature to breathing for men like him. There was one small problem. This wasn’t about promises and duty anymore.

  Softly, careful not to wake her, he brushed the stray strands of her silky hair away from his face, briefly letting his fingers linger. He’d never cared for the clingy type. Sex had been designed for mutual gratification. Lovey-dovey morning afters were for other people. Not him. Not even in the few sporadic short-term relationships he’d enjoyed over the last decade had he truly enjoyed languishing in the snuggle stages of afterglow. But how he felt now, he would gladly hold Angela this way for as long as she was willing. Everything about her felt right. Even the knee.

  Waiting for her to reappear from the bathroom last night, he had turned on the TV to one of his sisters’ favorite chick flicks. Pretty Woman. Fully dressed, Angela had sat down beside him to watch, and by the time Richard Gere faced his fears and climbed the fire escape to win the hand of the fair Julia Roberts, Angela had fallen fast asleep.

  Right now he wanted her more than he’d thought possible. Not the warmth of any female body. But Angela. And not just the sex. Like this. Sharing. Comforting. Looking forward to making babies. Teaching children. Everything Joe had and lost. Everything Billy no longer deserved. Damn. What had he gotten himself into?

  * * *

  Billy’s phone sounded off. He vaguely remembered taking it out of his pocket at some point and setting it on the nightstand. Opening one eye, he crashed into the full morning light. Crap. What time was it? Somehow during the night, he and Angela must have done a gymnastic performance. She now lay by the edge of the bed, and he was in the middle, spooned around her. Lifting his head to look over her shoulder, he spotted the seven o’clock hour and bit back a curse.

  “Angel.” He brushed her hair away from her face and kissed her cheek. “Angel.”

  Angela purred like a contented kitten and burrowed her backside into Billy. Just what he didn’t need. He eased away before he succumbed to the urge to roll her underneath him and bury himself inside her until she screamed for more. Damn.

  Crawling off the bottom of the bed, he moved to the night table and stood over her. “Sleepyhead. Time to wake up.”

  She mumbled a groggy, “Mm-hm” but made no effort to move.

  Squatting, he balanced against the bed and leaned in for a good-morning kiss. When her arms snaked around his neck, tugging him forward, he knew he finally had her attention. “Good morning,” he whispered against her lips.

  She blinked at him once, twice, and then a her cheeks bloomed a rosy red. “Oh, dear. Is it morning?”

  “Seven o’clock.” Billy pushed off the bed and made his way to the bathroom. When he came back out, Angela sat on the bed awake, adorable, and waiting for him. “It’s all yours. I’m going to check my phone.”

  She nodded and walked into the bathroom.

  Hitting the button for return missed call, Billy waited for someone to pick up.

  “Okay, we’ve landed,” Doug Hamilton announced. “Where do you want us to go, Chief?”

  “One of you needs to relieve Jim. The others meet at the shop.”

  “Any more news on who’s behind this?”

  “None.” And now that he had called in four of the best special forces guys to ever serve in the Unites States Navy, he had to wonder if he’d lost his mind. In the time Magnolia Maplewood and the Deluca kids had been in Kona, nothing had happened. Not a hint of anything suspicious. He and Nick could have handled an easy security detail like this. “I’ll meet you in fifteen.”

  “Roger. Fifteen.”

  “What’s the plan?” Angela stood behind him, hair neatly in place, her cheeks still tinted pale pink. Her hands clasped in front of her, her fingers twisted nervously.

  The urge to pull her into his arms and reassure her all would be fine overwhelmed him. Fisting his hands at his side, willing them to remain still, took the same effort as learning to tread water with his hands tied behind his back. “Some more friends have flown in from Oahu. I need to be at the shop in fifteen minutes.”

  Her fingers stilled. “Your old team?” He nodded.

  “What about Adam and the boats?”

  Shit. He’d forgotten. He’d told Adam he could tag along to the marina first thing this morning to look for a new boat. Wanting to do something to help the kid get over his aversion to the water and anything to do with diving like his dad, Billy thought getting the boy on any boat would be a good start. Even though Billy would have preferred Nick pick out the larger replacement for the smaller Island Girl dive boat, Billy agreed to go if it might help Adam.

  What he hadn’t counted on was learning that someone wanted Tom Deluca dead or that Billy and his former teammates would be gathering this morning at the shop to plan keeping Adam and his sister from suffering the same fate.

  Raking fingers through his hair, his hand fell to rest at the back of his neck as though it were the only thing keeping his head on his shoulders. “I’ll call Magnolia. Tell her I’ll be picking Adam up later instead of her dropping him off. I don’t want him at the shop when we’re talking about what happened to his father.”

  “Good plan. Little boys can have really big ears.” Her eyes lit with humor. God, she was beautiful when she smiled. “I’d better get going. You have a busy day planned, and I’m not really needed.”

  Not needed. Then why did he want to stop her from walking out of his room and beg her to come with them? Especially knowing that setting foot on a new boat, even one in dry dock, was going to challenge the crap out of him, and having her there would make everything…better.

  Angela’s smile remained in place, though the light in her eyes dimmed. With a nod she turned to leave the room, and like a besotted puppy, he couldn’t do anything but follow.

  When she hefted her purse over her shoulder and stood by the front door, he nearly bit his tongue to stop from inviting her to stay. To share breakfast, share conversation, share boat shopping, share everything. Shit. He definitely needed her. Too much.

  * * *

  Angela slid the key into the ignition, heard the engine roar to life, and without a look back pulled away from the curb. When she reached the corner, her bravado gone, she slumped over the steering wheel and drew in a long, deep breath.

  Lifting her head, she gazed out at the community before her. Filled with larger homes, this was a strong family neighborhood. The sort of place a young family stepped up to after a few years in a starter home and a second or third child on the way. Billy was probably one of the few single people on the block.

  A horn tooted softly behind her. With an apologetic wave, she turned right, toward the main road. The street ahead dropped downward, revealing a breathtaking view of the ocean. Billy had this view from his house. His room. When she’d been sitting on the bed waiting for him, she’d looked out the picture window. Two thoughts tumbled over each other: how wonderful it would be to awake every day with that view, and if this were her room she’d turn the bed so she could lie in bed and see out the window without turning sideways.

  Except she had no right to be turning furniture and no business longing to awaken in Billy’s bed every day. She had
a killer view of her own. And that was going to have to be enough. Turning at the bottom of the hill, she tossed a quick glance up toward Billy’s house. This had nothing to do with houses, views, or beds. She liked falling asleep and waking up in his arms. She liked the rumble of his voice last thing at night and first thing in the morning.

  A picture of last night filled her thoughts. Not of them alone in his house, but of his hand on her shoulder, and then, slowly, sliding onto hers. Offering his strength for the news he saw coming. How could she not fall a little in love with a man like that? Oh hell, who was she kidding—how could she not fall a lot in love with a man like that?

  * * *

  “Chief.” Doug Hamilton slapped Billy on the arm.

  “Glad you called.” Billy nodded.

  “Hey, Chief.” Two more voices echoed as the others moved up close. Everyone was all smiles.

  Except him. He bobbed his head, having a hard time looking these guys in the eye. Especially Doug. Making his way across the compound to help rescue Billy, a secondary explosion had triggered, sending fragments into his chick-magnet-handsome face. Over time the small scars had faded, but time couldn’t do a damn thing to restore the vision in Doug’s one eye.

  Nick walked in the door, and Billy made quick introductions. By the time Nick had made the rounds, Jim pulled into the drive. Within minutes the five men were gathered behind closed doors around the two desks in Billy and Nick’s office.

  “How sure are you of the info?” Jim asked.

  “As sure as I can be,” Billy answered. “Luke Chapman is on it.”

  Jim looked to Doug, who nodded. “I’ve worked with Brooklyn. Heard he’s got an A-class operation going now.”

  Nick added, “He did some work for me a little over a year ago. Can’t imagine anyone better.”

 

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