Whatever It Takes (Code Of Honor Book 5)

by Reese Knightley

  Dirt kicked up when Dillon stepped up onto the porch. The man removed his cowboy hat and slapped it against his leg, creating a cloud of dust.

  Luke laughed when the small, shaggy dog next to Dillon’s leg latched onto the hat.

  “Cricket, that’s not yours,” Dillon grumbled and reached down to gently pry the dog’s teeth from the brim.

  Last week, they’d stopped by Dillon’s apartment and collected the dog on the way back to Arizona. The neighbor opened his front door and a small brown and white bullet had burst through the opening and launched its whole body at Dillon. The soldier had caught the small bundle of fur and buried his face into the dog’s neck. With a lump in his throat, Luke had watched the interaction between Dillon and his dog.

  “Cricket, drop it,” Dillon said, finally getting the hat away from tiny canine teeth.

  He was glad Dillon had changed his mind about collecting Cricket. It had also given him a chance to see the neighborhood Dillon lived in, and he didn’t like what he saw. He’d love nothing more than to offer Dillon a room at his estate instead of the falling down building run by some slumlord. To top it off, Oliver shared the apartment with Dillon. Hell, Luke would offer them both a place if he didn’t think Dillon would flat out refuse.

  He followed Dillon’s fingers as they wiped dirt on his jeans, drawing attention to the fit of the denim. Luke swallowed, glancing away from the man’s thickly muscled thighs, trying not to salivate over the way the ripped and faded blue jeans hugged Dillon’s trim hips or the way the stained t-shirt stretched around every corded muscle on his torso.

  “You’ll be happier here at the ranch,” he finally murmured.

  “Trying to get rid of me?”

  “What? No!” His eyes snapped up and it took him a second to realize Dillon was fucking with him. Jesus Christ, the man was making a joke.

  “Cute.” He let out a short laugh. “Very cute.” He squinted.

  Dillon had avoided him since their return from California. Oh, he was as nice as pie with his assistant, Marge, and his manager, JJ, but him? Nope. Dillon would barely finish his food at dinner before leaving the dining room as soon as humanly possible. It was rude, but Dillon didn’t seem to care. Short of hog tying the soldier long enough to have a conversation, he didn’t know what else to do.

  And now, after weeks of abrupt replies and grunts, now Dillon had decided to tease him?

  Was the man’s teasing a promise of things to come or was it wishful thinking on his part? He wished to god he could get a read on Dillon; it was driving him bananas. And now Dillon wanted to go to a charity event with him? He was getting whiplash from the back and forth.

  “What about Cricket?” He nodded to the dog.

  Dillon reached down and ruffled the dog’s fur. “JJ said he’d watch out for him.”

  “They’ll have protection detail there, you don’t need to worry about me. I cleared it with Liam,” he finally said.

  Dead silence fell over the porch, even Cricket seem to be abnormally quiet. He glanced up and found Dillon’s cool blue eyes locked on him, but the man remained mute.

  “Besides, you don’t have anything appropriate to wear.” He jerked his chin.

  “I have something to wear,” Dillon rasped with a scowl.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah,” came the rough reply. “Why? You want to inspect my wardrobe so I don’t embarrass you?”

  “Embarrass me?” He sucked in a quick breath. “You think I give a shit what you wear?”

  “You sounded like it.” Dillon’s lip curled with a sneer.

  “I don’t want you to feel underdressed at the benefit,” he charged, clenching his fists to keep himself from grabbing and kissing the smart mouth senseless.

  Dillon studied him for another long moment. “I have a black tux, white shirt, gray tie, dress shoes.”

  “You do?”

  A muscle ticked in Dillon’s jaw.

  “Okay, sorry.” He held up his hands. “You just took me by surprise.” He reached for his rollaway. “Are you packed or do I need to wait?”

  Dillon pointed to a suitcase he hadn’t seen near the door.

  “And you’re going to travel in those?” He pointed to the dusty cowboy boots and jeans.

  “I thought I’d shower on the plane.”

  Plane sex.

  Holy hell, get a fucking grip, he silently admonished. But that was what he thought about when he pictured Dillon in his shower on the plane.

  It wouldn’t happen, of course, so he pushed his thoughts of the man undressed with water pouring down his rock-hard abs aside and slid into the waiting car.

  Cricket raced after their car down the dusty lane.

  “Pull over,” he said.

  When the car stopped, Dillon got out and caught the little bundle of fur. Cricket kissed Dillon’s cheek a million times before JJ reached them.

  The soldier clutched his brown and white pup.

  “Screw this,” Luke snapped and got out of the car. “Bring him.”

  “What?” Dillon jerked around, holding Cricket to his chest. The pup’s tongue darted out and licked the man’s jaw. The vision would stay with him for a long time.

  “I said, bring him with us.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Dead serious.” He smiled. “There’s plenty of room.”

  “I don’t have his leash,” Dillon said just as JJ handed over the leash he was holding.

  “Now you do, so there’s no excuse.” He slid back into the car, letting Dillon make the final decision.

  A moment later, the soldier slipped back into the car with Cricket securely on his lap. Luke reached over and ruffled the fur on the pup’s head and received several licks for his effort. He wished Cricket’s owner felt the same way.

  The driver dropped them off fifteen minutes later on the secluded side of the airport where they boarded his private jet that would take them to New Orleans.

  He’d given a lot of his time to the city after Katrina and had followed up with monetary assistance during and after any subsequent hurricanes. He had also donated to the community as much as possible through the years.

  His passion for charity had begun when he’d picked up the baton that his grandfather had passed to him. Leonard Rhine had had a huge heart and an even bigger laugh and when he passed from a heart attack at the age of eighty, the man had left the Arizona ranch and New Orleans responsibilities to him. Luke had stepped into the man’s shoes and became an advocate. The charity function the next night had been initially set up to fund research on cardiovascular health. After his phone call to the charity organization board, half of the funds would now go to families and businesses that were damaged by the area’s latest hurricane.

  Dillon disappeared into the large bathroom and Luke dropped his briefcase on the wide table attached to one side of the plane. He took a seat in the leather chair and pulled off his tie for the three-hour flight. Cricket laid in front of the bathroom door until the flight attendant coaxed the dog with a few treats and some fresh water.

  It was cloudy and humid as hell in the seventy-nine-degree weather when the plane landed, and after California and Phoenix, it would take some getting used to. Not that they would be staying long enough to acclimate to the weather, this was only a three-day trip.

  Reaching the hotel entrance, Dillon had insisted on carrying the luggage, so Luke had insisted on holding Cricket’s leash.

  “Right this way, General,” the hotel concierge said with only a slight blink at the dog near his feet.

  They reached the upper floor and he glanced at his watch. He had just enough time to drop his bags in one of the rooms off of the main suite before meeting Richard for dinner.

  Through an open door, Dillon dropped his duffle on the bed in another bedroom before taking off Cricket’s leash. Dillon filled the bowl with food they’d retrieved on the way to the hotel along with a bowl of fresh water.

  Luke fought to keep his eyes from trailing ove
r Dillon. He had just about swallowed his tongue when Dillon had emerged from the plane’s bathroom wearing fitted black slacks, dress shoes, and a buttoned-down charcoal gray dress shirt.

  Once Cricket was chowing down, the soldier stood fiddling with one of the shirt’s cuffs. Luke looked his fill and only turned his gaze away when Dillon lifted his head.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m meeting Richard at the bar for drinks,” he murmured, turning away toward the door.

  “Who’s Richard?”

  Surprised at the growl, he turned back around. Was that jealousy?

  “And how come I’m just now finding this out?” Dillon looked pissed.

  Of course, he wasn’t jealous. Luke gave a frustrated sigh and scowled right back.

  “Richard is a friend of mine. I really don’t need an escort. We’re catching up on old times,” he added. So, stick that in your pipe and smoke it, he almost said, but decided it would be childish.

  Dillon’s nostrils flared and he lifted a hand to gesture between them. “We’re really going to need to work on our communication.”

  “Seriously?” He made a sound in his throat and spun toward the door. Yanking it open, he left it that way before striding toward the elevator.

  “Sir, wait for me.” Dillon’s order traveled the distance.

  He stabbed a finger at the elevator button, but he waited to board until Dillon told Cricket to stay, be a good boy, and then locked the hotel door.

  It was a silent ride down to the second floor where the restaurant was located.

  “Luke!” Richard’s deep voice pierced the distance between them, making him smile.

  “Hey!” He returned the big man’s hug.

  Turning to Dillon, he introduced the pair. “This is Dillon, he’s my…”

  “Bodyguard.” Dillon gave Richard an abrupt nod instead of shaking the man’s hand.

  Richard gave a surprised laugh and dropped the hand he held out, before turning to him. “I only got a table for two.”

  “That’s fine.” He linked his arm with Richard’s. “Dillon can stand by the door.”

  He tossed a smirk at a scowling Dillon. He didn’t give a shit. If Mr. Sourpuss insisted on treating him like he was a mission, then that was what he’d be. You are a mission. He ignored his sneaky voice of reason.

  Richard held out a chair for him and he gratefully sank into it. Once Richard was seated across from him, he smiled.

  “How have you been?”

  “Doing great. Still adjusting, but it’s getting easier.” Richard had lost his husband six months earlier. Luke had been friends with them both. While he’d misled Dillon to think this was a dinner date, it was nothing more than a meal with a very good friend.

  “I’m so glad.”

  “Thank you,” Richard said and then handed him a menu. “What are you going to have?”

  He lifted his menu. “I’m starved.” He browsed over the food, his stomach growling.

  “Here you go, sir,” a voice said to his left and Luke glanced up to see one of the waiters putting a chair next to the wall at their table.

  Dillon slid into the chair. “This is better. I can see the whole restaurant from here.” Dillon gave him a Cheshire grin. “I’ll have a coffee to start.”

  He scowled when Dillon reached over and plucked the menu from his hand. “What’s good to eat?”

  He was so surprised by Dillon’s behavior, he couldn’t formulate a thought for a moment. When he opened his mouth to respond, he suddenly realized Dillon wasn’t talking to him. Dillon leaned toward Richard, all attentive like, holding the menu posed.

  “I…Well…” Richard smiled at Dillon, cleared his throat, and went into a detailed explanation on the New Orleans’ cuisine.

  Luke snapped his teeth together so hard, he might have cracked a crown.

  Glaring daggers at the side of Dillon’s strong, attractive jaw, he yanked the other menu from beneath Richard’s elbow.

  When Richard shot him a surprised look, Luke lifted the menu to hide his face.

  Thwarted from making Dillon jealous, he felt the green tinges of anger swirl in his own gut.

  Dillon

  The food tasted almost as good as Luke’s jealousy.

  Almost, but Dillon didn’t want to alienate Luke by being nice to Richard. He’d only accompanied them to the table because he hated the way Luke had treated him. Of course, he knew it was his own actions that had caused Luke to lash out, but so the hell what? Luke should have told him about his arrangements with Richard.

  “What about this one?” He leaned over, brushing his arm against Luke’s. The man stilled, breath slightly caught, and then leaned into him to gaze at the dessert menu.

  “That’s a lot of chocolate.”

  “Afraid of a little sugar rush?” The words came out more huskily than he intended. At Luke’s silence, he turned his head and found his face mere inches away.

  “I’m not afraid,” Luke whispered, and the words seemed to hold a hidden meaning.

  The noise of the restaurant faded away as he held Luke’s green gaze.

  “Good.” He smirked and handed the menu to the waiter. “We’ll have the Creole brownies with two glasses of milk.”

  The treat came and the fudgy chocolate exploded on his tongue. They were so rich, he ordered a second glass of milk to wash it down. Luke only finished half of his dessert.

  Richard hadn’t liked the pie he’d selected and ended up eating the other half of Luke’s brownie. The man was nice and kept the conversation rolling. Richard was visiting as well, having flown in from Oregon for the charity benefit. Dillon learned that the guy’s husband had passed away six months ago. He gave his condolences before searching Luke’s face. It took him a moment to confirm that Richard was a friend. Interesting that Luke had tried to get him to think otherwise.

  The general deliberately turned toward Richard and launched into reminiscing about old times.

  For what seemed the hundredth time since he’d sat down at the table, Dillon cased the restaurant. Somewhere out there, unbeknownst to Luke, was Oliver, Pia, and Blade. Dillon hadn’t felt comfortable using local muscle since he didn’t know anyone in the area. Liam agreed and had flown in a few Infinity team members. Oliver had sent him a text an hour ago letting him know they had landed and were on site in and around the restaurant.

  Draping his arm along the back of Luke’s chair, he listened to the pair’s conversation with half an ear. He was more focused on the people at the bar. A woman had entered about forty-five minutes ago and a man had joined her about a half an hour later. The man at the far end came in ten minutes ago and had tossed back three shots of whiskey.

  Besides him, Luke, and Richard, the restaurant held two other dining couples; one that had been there when they arrived and another that came in about fifteen minutes after them. It was Thursday, a work night, and the place wasn’t all that busy.

  “Well, I hate to end this night,” Richard said. “But I have to get up early.”

  “Can’t sleep in?” Luke asked.

  “Golfing.” Richard grinned. “You want to come?”

  “No,” Dillon said, automatically overriding whatever Luke was going to say. Too late, he realized his mistake when the general tensed. Shit. He was only here to guard the man, not dictate where he went or who he saw.

  Dillon wanted to smooth over the anger building in Luke, but didn’t have a clue as to how. Damn it. He drew in a deep breath to say something, anything, when Luke turned dismissively away from him.

  “No thank you, Richard. I’ll see you at the benefit though.” Luke said and returned Richard’s hug.

  “Have a good night.” Richard waved to them both and threaded his way through the tables to the exit.

  Dillon, having stood when Luke had, touched the gun hidden beneath his jacket. He tossed a few twenties on the table and found Luke watching him. The general’s face was completely blank, but he knew Luke was upset. So the fuck what? Guarding
Luke on a golf course would have been a fucking nightmare.

  Dillon clamped a hand around Luke’s bicep and drew him from the restaurant to the elevator.

  Once inside the elevator, Luke jerked his arm away and stared stonily at the floor buttons. This side of Luke was foreign. The man rarely lost his cool, but in the matter of a few hours, Luke had lost it twice.

  “Wait here,” he said once they reached their floor and stepped out of the elevator.

  Luke said nothing, but he stayed.

  He reached the door to the suite and used his key. Before he opened the door, he motioned to Luke to come closer. Luke marched up to him.

  “Wait.”

  Luke crossed his arms, but again stayed put. Dillon opened the door and Cricket came bounding over.

  “Stay here while I check the rooms. If you hear anything, you run out that door with Cricket and get help,” he murmured.

  Luke’s eyes went wide and darted around the sitting room. Dillon, with his weapon out, checked Luke’s room first, then his before returning to the front room.

  “All clear,” he said and stalked over to lock the door and toss the metal bar to keep outsiders from using a key.

  “Jesus, Dillon,” Luke said in a rush.

  “What?” He frowned.

  “You’re fucking crazy intense.” Luke gnashed his teeth, fingers raking through his thick brown hair. “And another thing, don’t answer for me.”

  “When your safety is at stake, I will.”

  “No, you won’t,” Luke snapped. “Because if I want to go golfing, I will.”

  Dillon studied the building anger on Luke’s face. “Do you want to go golfing?”

  “No!” Luke tossed up his hands. “That’s beside the point.”

  “What’s the point then?”

  “You don’t tell me what to do!”

  “Come here,” he said.

  “What?” Luke dropped his hands in surprise.

  “I said, come here.” Dillon holstered his weapon, and pointed to the spot in front of him.

  “What does that prove?” One eyebrow quirked.

  “Are you coming here or not?”

  Luke gave an exasperated sigh and marched over to stand in the spot in front of him. They were eye to eye. The space between them grew heavy and thick. That invisible thread flared like wildfire and Dillon had two seconds to regret his demand before Luke moved even closer.