Authors: Laura Kaye
No one had apologized for what had happened to them. No one had offered to help. And no one had said they believed them.
Except Becca.
He looked toward the bow, where Beckett was leaning down to hear something she had to say.
And that was the moment Nick knew unequivocally he was in love with Becca Merritt.
B
ECCA LAY NAKED
on her side, her body intertwined with Nick’s. His strong arms surrounded her, and the heat of his skin sank deep.
They were all going a little crazy having to wait the day to go after Charlie. But the storage center was open to the public until six on Sundays and located in a high-traffic strip. The team didn’t want to risk civilians or exposure to themselves if the op went bad. And the strip club—
the
place in Church’s empire that seemed most suitable for entertaining and impressing—didn’t open until seven on Sunday evenings, and it would be significantly easier to search if they could go inside as customers.
So they were going out at seven on the dot. In the meantime, they ate, slept . . . in her and Nick’s case, made love, too.
Each hour that passed ratcheted up her terror that something would happen to Nick tonight when they went after Charlie.
She snuggled into Nick and pressed a kiss against his chest. Words had been parked on the edge of her tongue since the minute he’d accepted her apology on Miguel’s boat. But she wasn’t sure if voicing these overwhelming feelings welling up inside her would give him strength or prove a distraction.
And she was scared enough for him, because the dual assault on the storage center and the strip club meant their numbers were halved.
Which terrified Becca beyond belief.
Not just for Nick, whom she loved.
But also for the men who were all that remained of the brotherhood he’d cherished his entire adult life. Becca had no illusions that her apology to each of the guys made everything all right. It would take a lot more than words to undo her father’s damage. She had to find a way, though, because she felt the weight of that responsibility like a second skin she’d never be able to take off.
Beside her, Nick stretched and yawned, his body coming to life all along the length of hers. They’d made love earlier, but he was hard against her stomach, and she wasn’t complaining.
Sliding her thigh up the outside of his, she reached between their bodies and grasped and stroked his cock. He moaned low in his throat, a sound that added to the wetness growing between her legs from the feel of him in her hand and her not-at-all-accidental rubbing of his head against her clit.
“Put me inside you,” he whispered.
A thrill shivered over her skin at the gravelly command. Becca dragged his head through her folds, tilted her hips, and guided him inside.
“Oh, Jesus,” he said against the top of her hair.
She leaned her head back and kissed him. As their tongues twirled and lashed, he hooked his hand behind her knee and used the leverage to fuck her. The strokes were punctuated, hard thrusts, snaps of his hips against her clit that drove her wild and pushed her almost immediately to the edge.
His mouth stole her breath. His touch stole her heart. And his cock stole her sanity. Becca came. He swallowed her cry and whispered sweet encouragements as her body clenched and writhed.
“I’m coming,” he groaned. “Oh, Becca, shit.” Nick yanked his cock free, stroked it with a tight fist, and came all over her belly. “I’m sorry,” he panted. “Didn’t mean to forget.” When the strain of his orgasm melted off his face, his eyes were so bright, so free of the shadows she’d seen that first day.
Her heart squeezed. “It’s okay. I liked it. I’m on birth control anyway.”
“Good to know.” Pushing into a sitting position, his gaze raked over her. She looked down herself, wondering exactly what he saw when he looked at her. Two ribbons of cum painted white stripes over her belly button. “Goddamnit, I’d kill to draw you right now. But it’s getting late.” Nick twisted to look at the nightstand and groaned.
“What time is it?” she whispered.
“Almost five.” Only two hours.
Her stomach dropped and she took a deep breath. Unthinkingly, she drew her fingers through the wetness on her belly and noticed his eyes flash to the movement. She did it again, on purpose this time, wanting to distract both of them from the awaiting reality. She smeared the liquid over the curved line of the guitar body still drawn on her side.
“That’s so fucking sexy, Becca.” He grabbed her hand, pulled it to his mouth, and kissed her knuckles. “But stop before I end up hard again and have a case of blue balls for the rest of the night. Stay right there.” He winked and swung off the bed. A moment later he returned with a warm washcloth, and he bathed her stomach. It was the sweetest thing.
The pressure of emotion for him made it hard to breathe. She had to tell him. Who knew what the night would bring? And no way she could let him go out there without knowing he mattered to her. Not just a lot. But as much as anyone ever could. “Nick?”
His dimple came out as he looked at her. “Yeah?” He tossed the cloth to the nightstand.
Nerves almost making her light-headed, she forced herself to sit up. When he settled next to her, she stroked her fingers over him, his shoulders, his chest, his sides, and met those beautiful eyes. “I love you,” she whispered, her breath catching. “I just need you to know. I’m completely in love with you. And I—”
“God, Becca.” He cupped her face in his big hands. “I love you so fucking much I can barely breathe.” He kissed her, a consuming, devouring physical connection that wrapped them up in a moment in time that was just for them, into which nothing could intrude. She’d remember it for the rest of her life.
The kiss gentled, and then they were embracing. Just holding one another. “I love you,” she said. “I want you to remember my voice saying this while you’re out there tonight. I love you.”
He stroked her hair and kissed her temple. “I could never forget.”
Finally, they had to get up. Dress. Her, in a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt, him, in black jeans, a T-shirt, his gun holster—a double one, this time, and a sports coat that covered it. He looked so freaking hot, and it nearly brought tears to her eyes because— No. She wasn’t even thinking it.
He knelt at a safe in the closet and loaded up on weapons—two handguns, various knives, extra clips of ammunition. Each addition ratcheted up her anxiety because it meant he was expecting a fight.
Nick held her hand as they walked out to the kitchen and met up with Shane and Easy, sitting at the bar eating leftovers. Jeremy leaned on the other side of the counter and nursed a beer.
“Beckett’s over with Marz,” Shane said. “We should run through an equipment and weapons check.”
“Agreed,” Nick said. “Gimme five to choke something down.”
“Take six,” Easy said with a smart-ass smile.
“Want me to make you something?” Becca asked. He shook his head and gave her a quick kiss. No way she could eat right now, so she settled against the bar next to Jeremy and bumped his shoulder. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, his gaze heavy with concern. Jeremy was upset he couldn’t participate in the assault, but he’d only handled a gun a few times in his life, and the guys had reluctantly voiced concerns about his readiness for what they might be walking into.
“I’ll sit on your lap later if you want,” she said, referring to his T-shirt:
I’m not Santa, but you can still sit on my lap . . .
That quirked a grin out of him. “My lap is open to you any time, babe. Ow.” Nick cuffed him on the back of the head and he flinched. “Santa.” Jer pointed to himself. “The Grinch.” He pointed to Nick. “You choose.”
Becca laughed and the guys joined in. Nick shoveled some pork fried rice down his throat and tried to pretend it wasn’t funny. But she could see the truth in his gorgeous eyes.
Fifteen minutes later, they were back in the gym again. Her eyes widened at the arsenal getting pulled from duffel bags and cases. Handguns. Rifles. Tasers. Ammunition. Headsets. Radios. Other things she couldn’t identify and honestly didn’t want to. Turned out each of the guys who’d driven here—Shane, Beckett, and Easy—had come prepared for the worst.
And now here they were.
“Why do you all have all this?” she asked.
Beckett looked over his shoulder. “Security is my line of work. But ever since I got back from Afghanistan, I’ve been preparing for the day the shit rained down again. Had to come sooner or later.”
“I’ve always been a collector,” Shane said. His gaze dropped to a duffel. “After last year, it became more than a hobby. It seemed smart to be prepared for whatever had come at me before to take another swipe.”
Easy nodded. “What they said. In a nutshell.”
The only thing lined up on the floor that didn’t make her stomach hurt was a huge professional-grade trauma kit that made hers look like a child’s toy—one of Shane’s contributions to their new supplies. Nick had explained that Shane had medic training, and knowing the man was equally capable of healing as killing added a new layer she couldn’t help but respect.
For a few minutes, Nick, Shane, Beckett, and Easy silently checked their weapons and filled their holsters. Metallic clicks and snaps filled the air. She sat with Jeremy and Marz in a semicircle behind Marz’s desk.
Suddenly, Marz shoved up from his chair. Not-Eileen yelped awake from where she’d been sleeping at Marz’s feet. “This is bullshit.”
“What?” Nick asked.
“I’m coming with you.” The sounds of their weapons checks ground to a halt.
Beckett shook his head. “We need you here, Marz.”
“No, you don’t,” he seethed.
“Derek, man—”
Marz glared at Beck. “Don’t you fucking say one word about my leg. I’m as capable as any of you.” She hadn’t known Derek long, but Becca absolutely believed him.
The big guy held up his hands. “I was just gonna say we need you to run the op with the cameras and scanner intel.”
“Jeremy can do it,” Marz said, crossing his arms.
Jeremy bolted upright in his seat, and Nick froze. “What?” they both asked.
Marz perched on the edge of the desk and looked at Jeremy. “I spent three hours teaching you this equipment last night during their reconnaissance mission. By the time he went to bed,” he said, addressing the other men, “he could recite it in his sleep. Jer knows what to do.”
“Uh, I don’t know,” Jeremy said, shaking his head.
Nick crossed to the desk, intense gaze focused on his brother. “Can you do this?” he asked. “Because we could use Marz in the field.”
A lump lodged in Becca’s throat.
Jeremy tugged his fingers through his hair and nodded, then he rose to his feet. “I can do it. I’ll do it.”
Nick rounded the desk and extended his hand, but when Jeremy accepted it, Nick pulled him in. Seeing the brothers embrace was almost more than Becca could take. As much as she missed Scott, she couldn’t imagine Jeremy learning he’d lost his brother, too. She dropped her gaze to her lap and fought back tears. They clapped each other on the back, then Jeremy was beside her again.
“I might throw up,” he whispered to her.
“Me, too. We can hold the bucket for each other.” He chuckled, but she was only half kidding. Becca rose to her feet. “I’ve made a decision.”
Nick’s brows cranked way down. “You’re not coming with us.”
Her jaw dropped open, and she planted her hands on her hips. “First of all, that’s not what I was going to say. I know a lot of things. One is that I know nothing about how to do what you’re about to do. But, second of all, if I wanted to come, there’d be nothing you could do to stop me.”
He crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow at her, his gaze filled with heat and amusement. Nick bowed his head. “Please, then, continue.”
“What I was
going
to say is that we have
got
to stop eating nothing but takeout. Tomorrow night I’m going to make a big meal of everybody’s favorite comfort food. So decide what you want and I’ll go to the store in the morning.” Because they’d all be coming back. And they’d all sit down around a table together and give thanks that they’d made it through, like the family they were. Or were becoming. She simply wouldn’t accept any other outcome.
A lively conversation erupted about what their choices might be. Laughter and groans of approval rang out. Nick came to her and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You just told them you believed in them again. Thank you.”
She nodded and found herself blinking a lot for the fifteenth time.
A few minutes later, Miguel walked through the door to the gym. He’d been here so often, Nick had given him the codes. “I’m back. And I’m ready to go,” he called.
Nick scratched his head. “Uh, Miguel.”
He held up a hand. “Don’t ‘uh, Miguel,’ me, son. I did shit like this for twenty-five years on the force. You’re understaffed to take on something this big. You need me.” He threw a challenging look up at Nick. The two of them facing off was almost comical, as Nick had a good five inches on the older man.
“I’d be proud to have you,” Nick said, extending a hand.
From that moment on, Becca’s gaze couldn’t stay off the clock as it inched closer and closer to seven. At the windows, the sky went dark, another indication that it was time for them to go.
And then they were ready.
Marz gave some last-minute advice to Jeremy, who sat sheet white at the computers but was nodding and nailing the answer to every question Marz asked.
Nick came right up into Becca’s space and, without a word, buried his hands in her hair and his tongue in her mouth. It was the kind of kiss that could change a woman’s life. She just prayed it wasn’t the last one he ever gave her. He pulled back, met her gaze, and said, “See you in a few.”
As the six men crossed the room and threaded their way through the gym equipment, Becca called out, “Be careful, you guys. And good luck.”
Without looking back, Shane raised a hand and waved. “Ain’t no thing but a chicken wing.”
One by one, they all disappeared through the door. And her heart dropped all the way to the floor.