Authors: Becky McGraw
He wished he hadn’t looked. God, why the hell did he have to look?
Cade frowned as his eyes landed on the badass red Harley he’d seen outside the range yesterday, a sleek and lethal ride he had no problem pairing up with the tatted pretty-boy SEAL he’d met inside. And just like he’d suspected she would yesterday, Cecelia rode bitch on the back of the raised seat with her arms wrapped tightly around the bastard’s waist, her face resting on his shoulder. At least she had a fucking helmet on in case she fell off her dangerous perch.
“I’m out,” Cade grumbled, turning toward the barracks. “I’m taking a shower and hitting the road to go to Amarillo to visit my sister.” The last place on earth Cade wanted to be besides here with Cecelia and her SEAL boyfriend.
When he and Trace Rooks struck the deal for him to stay in Dallas to cover Ronnie when she came to town for meetings, he thought it was the best move to both stay employed and avoid his father. What he saw it was now was a waste of his time since Ronnie hadn’t been to town once in the two months he’d been here, and nothing at all had happened in Amarillo either.
Being in Texas had been a waste of his time altogether.
At the barracks door, the loud motor stopped suddenly and Cade tensed when words rang loudly across the courtyard.
“That was a freaking amazing shot, dude!”
Cade didn’t want to, but released the doorknob and turned to see the SEAL put his helmet on the seat of the bike. He slid out of his black leather vest, hung it on the handlebars then put his hands on his hips to eyeball Cade.
“Let’s see how you do against the former state champion point guard for the Warrington High School Panthers, though.” He gave Cade a cocky grin and a chin nod. “I want next game.”
Cade sighed.
Turn around—go to the shower like you need to do. Get in your truck and get the hell out of here. Do not take the bait to put this guy on his ass
.
You have nothing to prove to him or to Cecelia.
He watched the guy strip off his tight white muscle shirt and his colorful tats appeared in all their full glory. Standing there in his motorcycle boots and jeans, he held Cade’s eyes as he unbuckled his thick steel-spiked belt and slid it from the loops. Cecelia’s eyes hovered near his waistband before ticking up every fucking ridge of his tight ab muscles until she met the man’s eyes and his smile matched hers.
Cade pasted on a grin that hurt his face. Agreeing to a freaking game just for the pleasure of giving Cecelia a front-row seat to watch him stomp her boyfriend’s ass was about the most immature thing he’d ever done. He’d passed that stage a long time back.
But goddamn, he wanted to do it so bad he could taste it.
“You’re on,” flew out of Cade’s mouth before he could stop it. “Man on man to ten, you can bring it in.” Too bad they were one
man
short for the game, he thought, as he walked back to the court and took the ball from Jaxson.
If Cade Winters is an example of a real man, I don’t need one. Now, the SEAL I dated before I came here—he’s a real man.
The words he’d overheard Cecelia say to Taylor Kincaid during the op he’d gotten dragged into shortly after he got back to Texas replayed in his mind and Cade gritted his teeth. When that SEAL reached the edge of the court, Cade threw him the ball—hard—but he caught it with a bark of laughter before it hit him in the face.
Because of Cecelia Logan, Cade was losing his damned mind, regressing at least ten years. He needed to hop into his big, badass
pickup
and haul ass out of here, that’s what he needed to do. But he was going to school this man, in front of his girlfriend, before he did that.
And too bad for him there weren’t any refs to call fouls.
“Ready when you are, Flipper,” Cade growled, as the SEAL took his place at the sideline. Bending at the waist, he stretched out his arms to balance his body then watched the man’s movements, which would telegraph his intentions.
“Watch your nuts, Secret Squirrel,” the SEAL grumbled back under his breath with a cocky grin, as he slapped the ball and leaned over.
CHAPTER FOUR
Secret Squirrel huh?
So the SEAL recognized that Cade was an operative—not an operator now. Interesting. What was more interesting was the trap he executed to breeze past Cade at the line and head straight for the goal. Cade caught up and blocked him, but not before he put the ball up in a perfect layup and it exited the bottom of the net to bounce off of his head.
The SEAL nudged him with an elbow. “You might want to up your cardio a notch or two, or maybe get a tank of oxygen—you’re breathing awfully hard,” he said, low enough that only Cade heard. When he added a wink, before he ran to get the ball which had rolled out into the yard, anger surged through Cade and he bit back a growl.
Game on, Squid
.
Cade caught the ball he threw back to him from the sideline…just as hard as he’d thrown it to him a minute ago. So, that’s how this game would be played. Walking out of bounds, the SEAL set up in front of him, and Cade noticed his shoes for the first time. Those clunky motorcycle boots had to be like moving in cement shoes. A smile stretched Cade’s face as their eyes met.
And you’re not watching me, are you, Frogboy?
Moving inbounds, Cade feinted left and the man followed him. When he was ready to make his move to the goal, he put his foot on the toe of the man’s left boot and put his shoulder into him. The SEAL cursed as he fell hard on his ass, and Cade laughed as he sauntered to the goal to make a perfect layup.
When Cade turned around, two sets of eyes threw daggers at him. The other guys lining the court wore smug smiles, their arms crossed over their chests as they watched the show. Hawk, Jaxson and Levi were enjoying this as much as he was evidently. He bounce-passed the ball to the SEAL who was scowling at him from the sideline.
“This ain’t high school,
Skippy
,” Cade mumbled, and gave him an audacious wink as he took his position to guard him at the sideline.
That remark earned Cade a sharp jab to the jaw under the goal that rattled his teeth as Skippy powered up under the backboard to execute an impressive layup he didn’t anticipate. They traded blows as the points continued to add up until they were tied at seven.
It was Cade’s turn to bring in the ball and before the Squid had time to set up to block him, he charged inbounds and sprinted toward the goal for a jump shot. When he went up, the SEAL did too, in the perfect position for Cade’s elbow to connect hard with his nose drawing a loud grunt and first blood. The SEAL staggered back from the goal and Cecelia glared at Cade as she ran onto the court with his white tank top in her hand to help him.
Take that pretty boy
.
Not so badass now are you?
That shirt won’t help, Cade thought, with a nasty laugh. That nose will need some packing, probably straightening too.
Might want to get a tampon, Brat, since your boyfriend is such a pussy
. The bastard deserved what he got, because he’d certainly dished out enough hard blows of his own to Cade.
So why the fuck did he feel guilty all of a sudden standing there while Cecelia fought to stop the bleeding? Why the hell did he want to go over there and help her?
Cade had put bullets in bad men for years now for Uncle Sam, hadn’t treated a trauma patient in years. He didn’t stay a combat medic more than a year after he finished training, because the military decided he was too well-suited to be delivering bullets to be assigned to remove them. Delta Force recruited him fast after he single-handedly held off a group of insurgents when their med-evac helo had a mechanical malfunction and had to hard land, which left every man in their crew injured.
Cade was the least hurt and decided a broken arm wasn’t enough incentive to just lay there and allow himself to be captured and added to the Taliban’s list of beheaded US soldiers. He went into self-protection mode, gathered up weapons, then used them and the machine gun on the chopper to hold off the insurgents until help showed up. Self-protection, totally self-serving, but the Army found that pretty heroic for some reason.
But his interest in medicine, his training as a combat medic was part of his psyche. Even though he didn’t have much soul left to speak of from his years of killing, it was still there.
“Fuck,” he grumbled as he walked over to them.
He pinched the bridge of the man’s nose and the SEAL groaned loudly. Cecelia shot him a hot look, but didn’t protest when he took the shirt from her. The green cast to her face told him she was one of those who didn’t like the sight of blood. Something he never knew about her.
“Go get me a couple of tampons and an ice pack or bag of frozen peas.” Laughter exploded from the men standing at the side of the court, and Cade tossed them a grin. The SEAL’s eyebrows crashed down over his eyes and Cecelia just looked shocked and confused. “Move your ass, Brat! Do you want me to help your boyfriend or
not
?!?”
With a frown, Cecelia ran toward the barracks, and Cade looked back to see the white shirt was now completely red. “Tilt your head back a little,” he said gruffly, as he pinched tighter at the bridge of his nose and the SEAL staggered. “Actually, sit down before you fall down.”
After helping Keegan down to the ground, Cade squatted beside him to reposition the shirt and the pressure he was applying. That elbow hadn’t been an accident, any more than the one the SEAL delivered to his jaw, then his ribs. He definitely deserved this bloody nose, and more.
So why the hell was Cade enjoying helping him then? The most confusing thing of all, considering how many criminals and crime organizations he’d helped bring down in the last six years, why now did he feel more useful than he had in all those years?
If his damned daddy hadn’t cut him off when he found out about his med school plans, maybe—
no,
that
was a closed chapter of his life. Working black and ghost ops all over the world had been much more helpful to the world than wasting his life away getting fat and lazy in a damned hospital treating head colds and head cases.
His chosen work also kept him almost as far away as he needed to be from Phil Winters. Far enough away from his father that he wasn’t tempted to kill him like he’d wanted to do the night of their final argument. Spending the rest of his life in jail did not appeal to Cade at all, and that was the only reason Phil was still alive.
Two tampons appeared under his nose and Cade grabbed them. He removed the shirt from the guy’s nose to see if the bleeding was from both nostrils or one. Removing the thin tissue paper wrapping, he shoved the cotton higher in the tube.
“You’re
not
shoving vat up my mose, dude,” the SEAL said in a gruff, nasally tone, which caused a fresh gush of blood from his left nostril. He swiped at it with his forearm and groaned.
“It’s that or I let your stupid ass pass out—you choose, Flipper,” he replied with a lifted brow, sitting back on his heels.
“Keegan, let him help you,” Cecelia said, with a huffed breath. “It’s not going to stop bleeding otherwise.” The SEAL’s eyes dropped to the end of the tampon before he dragged them back up to meet Cade’s. “Fine—but cut that damned string when you’re done.”
“Can’t—you’ll need the string to pull it out, Gilligan,” Cade replied, with a laugh.
Positioning the tampon at his left nostril, which appeared to be the only side bleeding, Cade grinned as he pushed the bottom of the applicator with his thumb, drawing grunts and groans from him until it was fully inserted.
He thought about fucking with him by leaving the applicator in for optimum pain, but Cee Cee was too fast with, “Don’t forget to pull out the applicator.”
After drawing it out, Cade sat back on his heels to grab the bag of frozen peas from her and plopped them down on the bridge of his very swollen nose.
“You’re no fun anymore, Cecelia,” Cade said, as he pushed up to his feet. “Give him ibuprofen and keep that ice on his nose for at least a couple of hours. His eyes might be black tomorrow.” Cade winked at the SEAL who was glaring up at him. “But that will serve as a reminder to him not to fuck with Secret Squirrels.”
Throwing his head back, Cade laughed loudly, and it felt so damned good. He felt good—better than he had in years, as he turned to walk toward the barracks. At the door, his phone rang in the pocket of his shorts, and he stopped to unzip the pocket and find it. The display said it was Ronnie, so he quickly answered.
“What’s up? I was just headed out there to see you.”
“No need—I’m coming to Dallas.” The sound was muffled, but he had no problem figuring out she was arguing with her husband over that decision. Finally, she came back on the line. “I need you to pick me up at the airport in two hours.”
“It’s the weekend, you have a meeting?” Cade asked.
“No, the administrator at the shelter received a threat—at her house—through her son who was left tied to a tree in her backyard. She just called and quit because she is afraid. Her second in command quit too when she heard what happened. I’m sure once the others find out, they’ll also be gone. I don’t have a choice, Cade. I have to take over until we can replace them, and Allison is sending Lou Ellen to help me.”
“Isn’t there anyone else who can run it? Maybe one of the women?” Cade asked.
By taking over that admin role, Veronica was putting herself right in the firing line. At the remote ranch in Amarillo with her husband, the odds of them finding her were slim. She flew in and out for her lobbying activities, so they probably had no idea where she lived. Worry churned in his gut, because he knew her staying here meant she’d be a stationary target, a sitting duck, just like the former administrator had been.
“No—I told Trace that too,” Veronica growled, and he could picture her glaring at her husband, because it was there in her voice. “I’m the only one who can do it, and I can’t let them close it down. That would give those bastards what they want, because the feds would just send the women back and we’d have hell getting the shelter reopened.”
“Is Trace coming with you?” Cade asked, hoping he was, so she would have extra protection at the shelter. But since she hadn’t mentioned him picking ‘them’ up at the airport, he assumed not.
“No, he is staying here,” she said with typical hardheaded finality. Trace mumbled something, they argued a moment, then Ronnie cleared her throat. “We have two horses about to foal, and it’s been very dry so he has to stay here and get the irrigation system fixed so he can water the crop.”
“I’m fucking
going
, Red!” Trace yelled in the background. “I’ll hire someone to take care of the crop.”
“Yeah, with what, cowboy?” Ronnie asked, with a snort. “The money from last year’s not-so-bumper crop? Strawberries was it? Those aphids enjoyed them very much. Hopefully they don’t like soybeans, but those will be dried on the vine if you don’t stay here and
water
them!”
Good, Lord
.
“Tell Trace I’ll be with you, so not to worry. I’ll see you at the airport,” Cade assured, and hung up the phone.
From meeting the man, Cade knew it must be absolute hell for the tough-looking ex-cop to let her go by herself. But her husband probably realized, like Cade, that there was no
letting
Ronnie do anything. She was going to do exactly what she pleased, and they could either help her or watch her hit that brick wall if it didn’t work out. Very much like another woman he used to know and lov—
fuck
.
Unfortunately, Trace Rooks, like Cade, probably also knew the brick wall his wife might hit this time could possibly be her last if those vigilantes got to her. Not being able to come with her had to be killing him.
But he really had nothing to worry about, because now that things had heated up, Cade was assigning himself to that close protection detail and would stay on it until his sister was safe again. Logan might not like it, may have other missions in the hopper, but there was only one mission Cade would be working. The other guys sitting here on their thumbs could work those other cases. He was focusing on the only reason he’d come back to Texas.
His eyes darted across the yard to where the SEAL leaned against a tree and Cecelia leaned against him, stroking his face while she talked to him. No, as soon as he knew Ronnie was safe again, Cade was getting the hell out of Texas as fast as he could.
Before he did something more stupid than trying to kill his father.