Page 13

Thirteen

Jackson

It’s not hard to guess who the guy is, standing in front of Stephanie’s place.

Everything about him screams FBI; the SUV, the suit, the aviator sunglasses shoved back on his head. He gives off territorial asshole vibes right off the bat too, as he takes a step closer to Stephanie when I get out of my truck.

Well, that shit is not going to fly.

I wasn’t even sure I was going to show tonight, but when I got back to my cabin to shower, I remembered I left Ash here.

Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I’ve been trying to talk myself out of starting something with Stephanie from the get-go, and yet I keep showing up. The brutal truth is; I’m a shadow of the man I was before, I have little to offer her, and she’s so far out of my league, I shouldn’t even be breathing the same air…but here I am. Again.

Except this time, I’m facing off with a guy I feel instinctively as a threat. He fucking looks at me like he’s been there with Stephanie and aims to go there again. The message is so fucking thick in the air, I could sharpen my teeth on it.

I turn to my truck, pull the bag of dog food I brought from the back, and toss it over my shoulder. Then I walk straight up to Stephanie without looking at the asshole, hook my free hand behind her neck, and pull her in for a hard, claiming kiss.

“Hey, Hotshot,” I greet her. “I picked the dog up some food.”

Her mouth twitches. “I see that.”

She knows exactly what I’m doing, but makes no attempt to stop me from making a blatant claim on her. I turn to look at the guy as I slide my arm around her shoulders and lean my head close to hers.

“So who’s the suit? Friend of yours?”

I feel a great deal of satisfaction when she answers, “Hardly,” and I watch the man’s face turn to stone. Clearly, he doesn’t like her answer, which means I likely read his vibes correctly.

“Ben Vallard is the colleague I told you about. The one I did the favor for.”

“Right. You did mention that.” I turn a fake smile on the guy, who looks like he tried to swallow a lemon whole. “So what brings you here?”

It takes a moment for him to respond.

“I’m here to follow up on a case I’m working on.”

“Actually, Ben tracked me down because he wants my help,” Stephanie interjects, throwing oil on the flames by correcting him.

“Does he know you’re on a break?” I ask her, ignoring the agent across from us.

“Yes, I was just explaining to him about my medical leave,” she returns, leaving Vallard completely out of the conversation about him.

I can feel the anger radiating from the guy, he doesn’t like being ignored. I love it and play along.

“Good, I don’t want you to push yourself too hard too soon.”

She puts a hand on my chest and smiles up at me. “I know.”

The loud scrape of a throat draws my attention back to Vallard, who is glaring at Stephanie.

“If you hear anything useful, let me know. You have my number.” He says the last with a quick glance in my direction. “And watch your back. You never know, if Laine is around, he might recognize you.”

My grip on Stephanie’s shoulders tightens.

“He’ll have to get through me first,” I deliver through gritted teeth.

All I get in response from the agent is a raised eyebrow before he gets behind the wheel of his SUV and backs away from the house.

“Well, that was about as fun as a root canal,” Stephanie jokes, as the SUV disappears down the driveway in a cloud of dust.

I drop my arm from her shoulders and turn to her.

“You have history with him.”

She nods. “A very brief and sordid history, yes. Thirteen years ago, when I was fresh out of the academy.”

“Let me guess; he was the charming, experienced agent offering to take a new recruit under his wing. He promised you the moon, while screwing every other skirt who crossed his path.”

“Skirt?” she fires back, catching me on the derogatory term.

“You know what I mean. Not a word I’d use to describe women, but you know he would. I know the type.”

She turns her head and looks away.

“You’re pretty close to the mark. Not my finest moment. Especially since he used to be my father’s partner before Dad retired.”

I’m starting to see why the topic may be difficult for her. It also confirms my suspicions about Vallard; the man wants back in there. But I meant what I said, anyone trying to get to Stephanie—including the agent—will fucking well have to get through me first.

“We all make stupid choices when we’re young,” I offer. “It’s the only way to learn.”

She reaches for the door and opens it, releasing Ash, who comes barreling toward me.

“Hey, buddy. Have you been behaving?”

“We just got back from a long walk,” Stephanie volunteers. “He got hung up on some animal scent out there, but I was able to eventually get him to come.”

“Yeah, recall can be a challenge, it’s something we’re still working on.”

She leads the way inside; I pick up the bag of dog food and follow.

“You’re probably hungry, aren’t you?” I mutter at the dog, who is circling me.

“I hope you don’t mind; I shared my breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast with him. He seemed so hungry,” Stephanie confesses, an apologetic grimace on her face that makes me chuckle.

“I don’t mind, but be warned, he’s a mooch. I fed him last night before I brought him over, so he should’ve been fine.” I drop the bag of dog food on the kitchen counter and look down at the half-full metal bowl of water on the floor at my feet. “I probably should’ve brought his bowls.”

Stephanie brushes past me and pulls another mixing bowl from the cupboard, handing it to me.

“He can use that one.”

Then she leans against the counter and I can feel her scrutiny as I scoop out some food for Ash and set it on the floor beside the water bowl. Ash doesn’t hesitate and starts scarfing the food down.

“So is he staying?” she asks, sounding a little apprehensive.

“We both are,” I return in a low voice. “If you’ll have us.”

The effect this woman has on me cannot be denied. Just thirty minutes ago, I was still trying to convince myself this whole thing between us simply couldn’t happen, and here I am, begging to stay. The fact I found an ex of hers sniffing around may have had something to do with that bold request as well.

Her mouth drops open and I see her blink a few times before she clears her throat and responds, “Holy shit, you’re not wasting any time.”

I shrug. “Don’t see the point of it. At least not anymore. I used to move slow, cautiously and methodically, so much so, the guys in my unit came up a tag they’d mock me with. But I’ve recently been made aware life is too short to waste time.”

She smiles, which I take as a good sign. Then she asks, “What tag?”

I reach for her hand and bring it to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. I opened myself up to that question, but I have a hard time forcing the familiar nickname from my throat.

“High Velocity.”

* * *

Stephanie

His voice is rough and I wasn’t expecting the deep pain in his eyes.

I lift a hand to his face and stroke the rough stubble on his square jaw.

“What just happened?”

He lightly shakes his head and turns away, moving to the sliding doors where he stops to stare at the mountains. Unsure of what to do, I stay where I am in the kitchen, giving him a minute.

“They’re all gone,” he starts, his voice barely a whisper, but I’m so attuned to him, I hear every syllable. “One minute we’re joking around—on our way back to base after a mission—the next I’m the only one left breathing.”

The strength of my emotions at his confession overwhelms me, putting pressure on my chest as the deep ache I can feel from across the room settles there. There are no adequate words for me to share, so I stay quiet, letting him take the lead.

“The tag…it brings back memories I’ve tried to bury since that day. Too scared to even recall the good times, and there were plenty. It was a true brotherhood, you know? The guys and me, we liked to goof around. We could be cocky assholes. But when it came time to go on a mission, we were all business and worked together like a well-oiled machine. There’s no hiding; you work, eat, and sleep together, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. These guys knew me better than I knew myself, and vice versa. I miss that. A lot.”

My eyes are burning with tears for him when he turns to face me. Not only did this man lose his leg, he lost his brothers in one fell swoop. On top of the grief, I can’t imagine the survivor guilt he must be feeling.

“I can see why,” I offer softly.

He nods before continuing, “When Ma and Jonas first dragged my ass back to High Meadow, after sitting guard by my hospital bed, I was pissed. But I think in some way it gave me back that sense of belonging, which is probably why I haven’t made any effort to move to a place of my own.”

“Makes sense.” I take a few steps closer.

“I told you I was a work in progress.”

It’s my time to nod. “As am I. In fact, last night after you left, I was trying to convince myself I come with too much baggage to start something serious with you. Too many open questions, too little direction. I’m standing on quicksand and desperately need to feel solid ground beneath my feet. Regain my confidence. But now…”

I let the words drift to where he’s standing still as a statue, his intensity palpable.

“But now?” he repeats.

I bridge the distance and lay my hands on his chest, looking up at him.

“Now I think perhaps I was wrong. I can’t bring back your brothers, but I can listen and help you hold on to their memories. Just as you can’t absolve me of all my problems, but already you make me feel heard and seen and cared for more than anyone else ever has. Maybe we can help each other recover some of what we’ve lost.”

His arms clamp around me, almost lifting me off my feet as his mouth slams down on mine in a fierce, almost brutal kiss. I welcome any bruises the pressure of his mouth or the imprints of his fingers may leave behind. I feel oddly safe as I let myself get swept away in a passionate storm I have no way of escaping.

Half stumbling over the low coffee table, we somehow end up in front of the couch, where Jackson’s hands urgently strip down my jeans and panties. Then he releases my mouth, sits down, and pulls a condom from his pocket, before shoving his jeans halfway down over his ass. Then he carefully rolls the condom down his beautiful cock while his eyes devour me the entire time.

“I need you to ride me.”

I don’t need any more of an invitation and climb astride on his lap. Immediately, his mouth finds mine as his hand guides his cock to my opening. I groan deep in my throat as I feel him brush the blunt head along my slit, gathering up the wet collecting there.

The stretch burns as I take him inside, but the overwhelming fullness of him feels so good. I feel his hands clamp down on my ass cheeks, guiding my movements.

Our mouths are fused as we pant and grunt down each other’s throats on this wild ride to completion. I feel Jackson buck under me as he reaches his release shortly after I orgasm.

I’m not sure how long we sit on the couch, clinging on to each other as we try to catch our breath.

“I’m sorry.”

I sit up and look down in Jackson’s face. “Sorry? For what?”

“That’s not how I’d planned our first time.”

“Really? Because hard and fast is the perfect opening act, in my opinion,” I suggest, flashing him a smile, which he returns.

“Opening act?”

“Don’t tell me you’re a one-trick pony?”

“Hell no.”

I climb off him and reach for his hand, but instead of letting me pull him up, he pulls me back down on his lap, this time sideways.

“Before you take me to your bedroom…I’m nervous.”

“Why? Your leg?” I guess.

“The few times I’ve… Anytime I… I haven’t been completely naked,” he stammers. “Not since losing my leg.”

It breaks my heart, but I force myself to keep it lighthearted.

“Well, I’m glad I’m your first, and just so you know, I haven’t had a man in my bed in about twelve years, so I’m a little nervous too.”

He looks shocked at that. “No sex in twelve years? How the hell?—”

“I didn’t say that. There’s been sex, but not in my bed.”

That puts a smile on his face and he shifts me off his lap, before getting up himself, and pulling up his jeans but leaving them open.

“Show me the way.”