Hot & Bothered (A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 8) (14 page)

“You seem a million miles away.”

Brandy caught his gaze, looked away. Brandy hadn’t been there yesterday for the revelation that Emily had been in Ryan’s bed the night before she’d disappeared, but the man knew something was up. Knew and had probably already told Victoria. Yeah, Ryan’s balls were definitely in danger now.

Not that he fucking cared. He had bigger things to worry about.

Emily was pregnant. With his kid. What. The. Fuck.

“It’s been nonstop since we left DC. I’m fucking tired.”

Which was bullshit because Special Operators were accustomed to going without sleep, without showers, without food except stuff that was dried and tasted like tree bark for days at a time. Hell, the number of times he’d brewed coffee in a fucking tin cup with a Sterno can and stale water. It tasted like day-old socks, but it provided the caffeine jolt a military operative needed.

“You can go to bed as soon as we’re done here, princess.”

“Fuck you, Ice,” Ryan said.

“All right, assholes,” Matt said. “It’s been a long day. Let’s wrap this up and get some R & R while we can.”

“So it’s two more days,” Kev “Big Mac” MacDonald said, “and we’ll hopefully know where the hostages are being held. Unless something shakes out sooner.”

“Could be a double cross,” Cade Rodgers said. The Echo squad leader didn’t say much, but when he did it was usually memorable. And not in the best way.

“Could be,” Matt replied. “We won’t know until Emily meets with Mustafa again.”

Ryan’s gut churned.
Meets with Mustafa again?
Over his dead fucking body.
 

Brandy’s nostrils flared as he sat up straight. “Ain’t nobody sending my almost-sister-in-law into a goddamn double cross situation. Victoria will gut me if anyone touches a hair on Emily’s head.”

“Don’t see as we have a choice,” Big Mac said. “She works for Black. She’s the contact.”

Matt held up a hand to quiet them. “Look, we haven’t given up on our intel finding the location first. We have analysts working day and night back at HQ.”

“If Emily goes, I’m going with her,” Brandy said.

Ryan’s chair hit the floor with a thump that reverberated through the room. “Me too.”

Everyone looked at him. No one said anything.
 

“We’ll figure out who’s going where when the time comes,” Matt growled. “That’s not up for discussion yet.”

Brandy looked militant.

Ryan stood. He couldn’t sit here another second. Not when his skin felt like it was stretched too tight and about to split apart at any moment. His emotions churned like a hurricane. He had to get out of here, get some air. “We done here?”

Fiddler’s brows rose. Cade Rodgers looked at him as if he were watching a bitch fight about to happen and enjoying it immensely. Ice openly gaped, which would have been funny if Ryan were in the mood for funny.

Matt’s brows drew together. Then he nodded as if he’d decided something. “Yeah, you’re done, Flash. For now.”

Ryan strode out of the room, his eyes burning, his gut churning, his breath razoring in and out of his lungs. It wasn’t late, but it was dark now. He hadn’t seen Emily in hours, not since she’d told him she was pregnant and he’d felt like she’d hammered a fist right into the center of his belly.
 

He’d stupidly forgotten who he was dealing with as his mind had churned over her words. Asking her whose baby it was had been automatic. And the minute he’d done so, he’d known it was the wrong question. He could still see the hurt on her face, the defeat in the set of her shoulders as she’d turned away.

He’d known he was the only one. Known he’d spent an entire night making love to her without any protection whatsoever. Because she’d told him she couldn’t get pregnant.

He’d believed it. Hell,
she’d
believed it. Or had she? What if it had been a trick?
 

He hated that he thought that, but goddamn it, she’d proved he didn’t know her as well as he’d thought he did when she ran away. Those were the thoughts whirling through his mind when she’d told him the baby was his.

“Say something,” she’d said.

He hadn’t been capable of saying anything for several minutes. Hell, even now he couldn’t remember what he’d finally said when he could speak. What they’d talked about. It hadn’t lasted long, and then he’d found himself outside her door, staring at it. She’d closed it in his face.
 

He crossed the compound, nodding at the man who guarded the wall. The man nodded back, then spit into the dirt as he continued his circuit. Ryan was bunking with Fiddler in a small room at the opposite end of the compound, but that’s not where he was headed. He passed inside the main house and toward the stairs leading to the second floor. Ian Black stepped out of his office, lifted an eyebrow. But he didn’t stop Ryan as he went up the stairs.

He came to a halt outside her door, his heart thrumming, his brain burning. He hadn’t said the right things earlier. Hell, he didn’t know what the right things were. He lifted his fist and pounded on the door.

A second later, it opened. Emily stood there in a T-shirt and camouflage pants, her hair flowing loose and free, her dark eyes full of hurt and suspicion. Dear God, this woman was having
his
baby.

Of all the things he’d ever considered doing, kids were a distant—seriously distant—thought. His lifestyle wasn’t conducive to a kid, though his brain reminded him that Ice had a kid and handled it all right, especially now that he had Grace in his life.

Yet Ryan had been raised right, and he knew what he was supposed to do. His father had married his mother, in spite of her nuttiness, and he’d been there for Ryan when his mother finally fell apart. His father had always been a rock. A calm, guiding spirit who didn’t lay blame or shove off responsibilities.

Ryan could do no less. His father would be ashamed if he did.
 

The words tumbled out. “We need to get married.”
 

Emily’s eyebrows climbed her forehead. Then they arrowed down again and her face reddened.

“That’s just about the sweetest proposal ever, Ry—but no.”

She pushed the door closed. Ryan stuck his foot between the jamb and the door before she could shut it all the way. She ripped it back open and glared at him.

“What?”

He blinked. His heart was an organ completely out of his control right now. It pounded, his head throbbing in time with the blood pulsing through his body. “What do you mean what? You’re pregnant. I’m here to do the right thing.”

She crossed her arms and cocked a hip. “Oh really? It only took you…” She glanced down at the Fitbit she wore and pressed the button for the watch function. “Six hours. Six hours since I told you I was pregnant to decide that you want to marry me? No thanks.”

He threw his arms wide. “What do you want me to say? You shocked me. I had to think.”

She snorted. “Dude. If you had to think that hard about asking me to marry you, then no, it’s not the right thing for you to do.”

Goddammit. She was driving him crazy here. Fucking insane. What the hell did she want from him anyway?

“You’re pregnant.”

“I know that, genius.”

Ryan closed his eyes for a second. “Can we just talk for ten fucking minutes without all the hostility?”

She stepped away from the door and went to sit in the only chair in the room. Ryan closed the bedroom door behind him and watched her as she folded her arms over her breasts and crossed her legs. The message was certainly clear—she was shutting him out.

He let his gaze slide over the room. It was bare of any furniture but a twin bed, a chair with a small desk, and a dresser. But she’d managed to make it cozy for herself. There was a woven tribal rug on the floor, a sheet that hung over the single window, a few books on the desk, and a lamp that she’d put a sheer piece of fabric over. The fabric had come from one of the markets, he’d bet, its edges dripping with metallic coin-like objects that would rattle when shaken.

“What do you want to say?” She regarded him like a queen surveying her subject. Haughty. Proud.
 

He didn’t like it. “I think there’s a lot to say, don’t you? We’re having a baby together, and that changes everything.”

“It does. But I’m not marrying you because you believe it’s something you
have
to do. I know what it’s like when your partner starts to resent you for being unable to have a baby. I’d rather not find out what it’s like to have one who resents me because I had a baby instead.”

“I’m not going to resent you.”

“How do you know that, Ryan?” She clasped a hand over her still-flat belly. “How do you know you won’t hate being a parent? Won’t hate that you have to change diapers or put up with tantrums or get up at two a.m.? And what about when you have to consider two other people in your decision making because it’s not just you anymore?”

Ryan blinked. “You’re having twins?”

Emily growled. “No, I’m not having twins. I meant me! You have to consider me and what I want too.”

Jesus, he was an idiot. “Yeah, I get that.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “This is a lot to process.”

“It is for me too.”

He went over and knelt beside Emily’s chair. Then he reached out and swept his fingers along her soft cheek. She didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away, and he found that encouraging. There was something rather frightening about the idea of her refusing his proposal, as if she were shutting him out of her life.

“Marry me, Emily. We’ll figure it out. We’ll make it work. I’m not bin Yusuf. I’ll take care of you.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EMILY TREMBLED AS A SHIVER skated over her body. Ryan was touching her. Gently, sweetly, in a way that he hadn’t touched her since that night in his apartment. It was so tempting. So damn tempting to say yes.

Her heart begged her to say yes. If she married him, she could make him love her.

No.
That was exactly the kind of thinking that had led her into a downward spiral when she’d been a teen. You didn’t
make
people love you. Thinking you could only led to heartbreak.

“I can’t,” she whispered, dropping her head until her hair fell forward and curtained her face from his view. There were so many reasons. He didn’t love her. He would end up resenting her no matter what he said. And marrying her meant the end of his career unless she finished this mission and Ian kept his promise.

Maybe it
still
meant an end of his career, even with her name cleared. Because HOT would know who she was and Colonel Mendez would be furious that Ryan had been involved with her in the first place.
 

“Do you honestly want to do this alone?”

She lifted her head to meet his gaze. His blue eyes glittered like hot flames.

“No… but that doesn’t mean we have to marry.”

“I’m trying to do right by you. What the hell do you think Brandy will do to me once he finds out? Or, worse, your sister?”

Emily’s belly churned with irritation. “Do you think I care what they think right now? Victoria is half a world away—and Nick’s your teammate. He’s not a fool, and he’s not going to suggest pistols at dawn or anything. He only worries about me insomuch as my welfare affects Victoria’s.”

How could she tell him that she would have married him in a second if he’d asked for any other reason than it was his duty because he’d knocked her up? How could she admit to what she felt for him when it was abundantly clear he didn’t feel the same way?

He’d only ever felt sorry for her and responsible in some way, even before the baby. She didn’t doubt that he cared, in his own fashion, but she knew he didn’t love her. And dammit, that’s what she wanted out of life now. She was old enough and had been through enough to know what she wanted.

She wanted a man who loved her, who couldn’t live without her because doing so would leave him incomplete. She wanted passion and equality—in short, she wanted what Victoria had with Nick. That man worshipped her. Worshipped the ground she walked on. He’d do anything for her, sacrifice anything for her happiness.
 

Emily might not have known what real love between a couple was if she hadn’t watched her sister and Nick over the past few months.

Now that she knew, she didn’t want to settle for less in her own life. Maybe she was deluding herself, but she had to believe there was more for her too.

“I don’t know how else to fix this, Emily. Marrying is the right thing to do for our kid. You’ll be my dependent, eligible for medical care and my life insurance if something happens to me. We’d get housing and benefits from the military. You could go back to school, finish your degree. You wouldn’t have to worry about finding a job or a place to live.”

Yes, she knew all those things were important. But it was so cut-and-dried, so raw and logical. Not an ounce of feeling in there. Not an ounce of passion. Just practicality. And he still hadn’t even addressed the biggest question of all, which was his job in HOT. He had to know what he was risking, but he acted like it didn’t exist.

“Once more, you are
alllll
romance, big guy.” She pushed away and stood. He looked up from his kneeling position, and her heart skipped a beat at the perfection of that face. “The answer is still no.”