Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
WALKINS GLEN, ALABAMA
“Five more minutes, right?” Savanna asked from where she stood at the kitchen sink, silently congratulating herself for sounding calm when she felt anything but. She looked over at A.J., who’d stationed himself by the two French doors that led to Jesse’s back patio, thumbs hooked in the front pockets of his jeans and a cowboy hat perched on his head.
Jesse lived in Walkins Glen, a thirty-minute drive from her place in Birmingham. In her mind, Walkins Glen was a storybook town. The kind of place you’d see on the show Hart of Dixie or in a cute Hallmark Christmas movie. Everyone knew each other, and there were only two bars in town, the most popular one being the Drunk Gator.
“Yeah. Five guys on the team will be arriving,” A.J. answered, squaring his shoulders back.
At one time, Savanna had considered relocating to Walkins Glen, but she was concerned the small town wouldn’t be able to support her business. And she didn’t want to compete with Liz’s place, the only bakery and coffee shop already there, so she’d stuck to Birmingham.
“Five is a bit much, don’t you think? We have your three brothers and this wonder boy over here.” The memory of Jesse in action last night flashed to mind, and she swung her gaze to where he sat on a barstool at his kitchen island with his head in his palms. A heavy heart for killing that man? Or was something else bothering him?
“I’m not a wonderful anything,” Jesse commented grumpily without looking up. Savanna was tempted to joke that the “grump” status in this town was already taken by the sheriff, Beckett Hawkins, but decided she’d best not. Jesse had killed a man to save her from, well, she wasn’t exactly sure what, and now wasn’t the time for wisecracking.
Jesse lifted his head and began wordlessly drumming his fingers on the handmade red oak top in an almost soothing rhythm.
Savanna stepped over to the island, opposite Jesse, and returned her focus to the ingredients she had assembled for baking cookies, an activity she always found therapeutic. Jesse didn’t have a stand mixer, but she’d made do with the old-fashioned method for the first couple batches, chocolate chip and then oatmeal. Her arm muscles were definitely feeling the workout, but it was a nice distraction. Now she was ready to make her signature butter cookies. There was no time to let the dough rest overnight in the fridge for a better bake, but oh well. Butter-anything in the South was a sure bet.
“No sifter. No mixer. No rolling pin.”
“I don’t bake,” Jesse cut her off while lifting his head, his light blue eyes fixing on hers. “You seem to be doing just fine without all the equipment.” He winked, and his foul mood was temporarily gone. She’d take that as a win.
If anyone should be in a bad mood, shouldn’t it be her? Last night, there’d been three men waiting inside her home for her. If Jesse hadn’t been there . . .
And now, blood had ruined the floor of the townhouse she was about to get evicted from, and?—
“You sure you’re okay?” A.J. sat next to Jesse, and now she was under scrutiny from both of them. She’d rather be back in Hilton Head with her grandmother, learning how to bake cookies for the first time when she was seven, than think about blood and bad guys.
Her grandmother had lost her husband at an early age, and sadly, becoming a widow was something Savanna could relate to.
She closed her eyes for a second, remembering her grandmother’s lessons.
The secret to making delicious cookies is to put a little of your heart into them , she’d instructed earnestly, a hand over her heart. Then she’d smiled and dusted Savanna’s little nose with a flour-covered fingertip. Abuela had a beautiful smile and lovely hazel eyes, and Savanna felt lucky to have inherited both of those features.
“I’m doing much better than the both of you. You’re the ones acting as nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” She added sugar to the softened butter in the silver mixing bowl and began the process of creaming them together with a wooden spoon, an arduous task that would have been much easier with a mixer. But again, anything to take her mind off the current mess she seemed to be in.
She needed to act like everything was business as usual, play this whole thing off like last night was some kind of mix-up, that she hadn’t been the target because what was the alternative? Living in fear? Going down a rabbit hole of what-ifs ?
She’d fallen down that rabbit hole when Marcus was killed. What if he’d never joined the teams? What if they hadn’t gotten called on that op? What if he’d killed the terrorists first?
But the two what-ifs that plagued her to this day, because his body had never been recovered, were What if that hadn’t been Marcus I saw on TV? What if he isn’t really dead and one day he’ll walk through my door?
A sharp stabbing pain hit her ribs at that last thought, one she couldn’t deny crossed her mind on a regular basis.
When she glanced at A.J., he was adjusting his hat for what seemed like the tenth time in as many minutes, as if his head had somehow grown since she’d started on her butter cookies. It was probably nerves. And a nervous SEAL didn’t sit well with her.
She didn’t need a handbook to understand a Hawkins man. She knew all four of them through and through. And well, hell, she was familiar with Shep a bit better than the others. And that was a mistake.
“Let me guess, you’re disappointed you missed out on the candy-and-cookie-eating competition today.” Deflection attempt number two, but could she even lighten the mood when it felt like a dark cloud was hovering over their heads with no blue skies in sight?
She looked around the quaint kitchen, always impressed by Deb’s handiwork. A.J.’s mom pretty much had a hand in decorating everyone’s place in town, now that Savanna thought about it.
Jesse’s 2,000-square-foot one-story gray brick house would make the perfect place for him and Ella too. Savanna could totally see them having two little girls with blonde pigtails running around in their fenced-in backyard, as well as a son pulling their sisters’ pigtails, because why not? Boys. Enough said.
“I don’t like leaving you,” A.J. admitted. “Even with five capable guys, and my brothers and Jesse here to watch out for you. But moving you to another location worries me as well. Doesn’t usually go as planned whenever we’ve, uh, tried that with people in the past.”
Hm . She honestly had no clue how much Jesse really knew about what A.J. did for a living. But he wasn’t a fool. Surely, he had his suspicions. Savanna had signed an NDA—non-disclosure agreement—a requirement by the President when Marcus joined the clandestine unit in 2013. It was her promise never to reveal the secret, and she was forever tied to that document too.
“I’ll be fine. And don’t you dare lose your focus while overseas and make Ana a . . .” Widow. Her stomach dropped.
A.J. stood abruptly, and Jesse did the same. But they both remained quiet as if unsure what in the hell to do. She didn’t really know what to say, either, so she turned away from the island and set her sights out the window over the sink that looked out at the backyard. The sun would be setting soon, and A.J. needed to get on the road to the airport within thirty minutes.
And of all songs to come on the radio from the other room— damn . If she hadn’t already known Jesse had turned his sound system on in the living room, she’d swear Marcus was there and sending her a message.
Savanna set her palms on the counter and bowed her head as Thomas Rhett’s “Die a Happy Man” played. Had Marcus been happy before he died? She liked to think so.
Tears fell down her cheeks as she listened to the song, and then a pair of large hands braced the sides of her arms from behind.
But she was already lost in her memories.
Page by page.
Starting with the first chapter when she’d met Marcus in Tampa while he’d been attending a meeting with some admirals at SOCOM—the United States Special Operations Command center, headquartered there.
At the time, Savanna had been attending The University of Tampa and waiting tables part-time. One afternoon at the bar, Marcus passed her a note asking her on a date.
He had to leave the next day, so they’d had their first sort-of date over the phone and spoke every day after that through email or by phone until he returned a month later.
She’d fallen in love with him through his words like she was a character in a Nicholas Sparks novel, which her romantic heart had loved. He was sweet and caring. Strong, with the heart of a lion, as well. The most amazing and decent man she’d ever met.
And although they’d only spent maybe five days together in person over the course of their year of courting, such as it was, she accepted his proposal, and a year later, they married in Alabama in 2011. But in 2015, his life was taken, leaving hers ripped apart.
The epilogue of their story really was one for Sparks’s tragic books, wasn’t it? Often, there was no guarantee of a happily-ever-after with that author, and before she’d met Marcus, that hadn’t bothered her. But ever since Marcus was stolen from her, she refused to read any story that didn’t end with a happily-ever-after.
“Savanna?” A.J.’s voice was in her ear. “They’re here.”
Savanna sniffled and swiped the backs of her hands beneath her eyes, wiping away a few tears, then pulled herself together like she’d learned to do over the years and looked up to see five guys heading toward the French doors.
One of them seemed to notice her watching, and he paused for a second, freezing like a buck that realized someone had a scope on him.
Their eyes remained locked for a moment longer, but at the sound of the doors opening, she flinched and turned away from the window to check out her new crew of protectors.
But what exactly are you here to protect me from?
She recognized two of them, but just barely. Grayson Chandler, Wyatt’s brother-in-law, had come in first, followed by Jack London, whom she’d met once or twice at gatherings after Wyatt and Gray’s sister, Natasha, had married.
The other three, especially the guy she’d noticed outside, were question marks.
“Gray. Jack,” A.J. greeted. “You remember Jesse and Savanna.”
“Something burning?” Gray asked as he sniffed the air.
“Oh, shit.” Savanna ran over to the double ovens, and Jesse was on her heels helping to pull out the burning cookies. Thank God, because the last thing she needed today was to have to call A.J.’s firefighter brother, Shep. She’d prefer A.J. leave town before seeing Shep, too, just in case A.J. really did want to punch him for their oops-moment.
After tossing the ruined cookies in the garbage and the baking sheet in the sink, she rested her palms on the edge of the sink and took a deep breath— could she be any more embarrassed right now?— then she slowly turned to face the room, only to come nose to chest with someone. Her hands flew up and went flat against that chest, which was amazingly hard and muscular, and felt really, really good. It was as if her fingers were on autopilot when they slowly climbed up the planes of his chest and to his shoulders, leaving a faint trail of sugary powder in their wake.
She looked up to find a pair of dark brown eyes staring down at her.
“Griffin,” he said, his lips twitching in amusement.
The “buck” had a name. A sexy name. And a deep, sensual voice to go along with that firm, muscular frame and killer eyes she could lose herself in.
His granite jawline ( that’s what authors would call it, right? ), masculine nose, and great overall bone structure were . . . well, hot damn. No full beard at the moment, but he was rocking a few days’ worth of facial hair.
His dark brown hair was artfully styled at the top and faded a bit at the sides. Savanna figured him to be about an inch or two over six feet tall.
She swallowed, but it was more like a loud gulp. “Hi,” she squeaked. And then, to her horror, she giggled. She didn’t usually act like a tongue-tied teenager, so what the hell was going on?
“You have a little something on your face.” The pad of Griffin’s thumb swiped over her cheek, then he leaned back a little and licked his thumb. “Mm. Sugar.”
Why am I still clinging to this man?
“Ahem. Savanna, want to let go of him?” That was A.J. adding fuel to the fire, blowing this moment up into something even more awkward.
Thanks, sailor. I’ll remember that.
“Take your time, Sugar.” Griffin flashed her a cheeky grin, tipping his head to the side a little.
Cheeky again? Woman, focus.
Savanna lifted her hands and backed up, bumping into the counter behind her, catching Jesse’s eyes in the process as he stared at her with curiosity.
She was a bit curious too. When was the last time a man had stirred such an intense reaction outside the pages of her favorite novels?
Before she had a chance to even try to decipher her feelings, she spotted Shep and Ella heading toward the back doors. Shit, incoming. “Shep and Ella are here.”
“Jesse McAdams,” Ella said the second she burst inside, her hands going to her hips with dramatic emphasis.
“What?” Jesse eyed Griffin on his way to intercept Ella while Shep hung back by the door.
“Why’d you bring Ella here?” A.J. asked. “She doesn’t need to be caught up in this. What if someone were to show up?”
“You try telling our sister not to do something she sets her mind to do,” Shep quickly returned before scanning the five strangers in the kitchen, appearing to quickly size up the other men.
Shep was tall, well-built, and had muscles for days. From the looks of the five guys there to assist Savanna, they did too. And she’d already felt the ridges of muscle beneath Griffin’s shirt to verify that fact in regard to him.
“Why’d you say my name like I did something offensive?” Jesse spun his black ball cap around on his head like he was preparing to go argue with a ref during a football game.
“You killed a man.” Ella unglued her palm from her hip to swish it through the air as if she were going after an irritating fly. In this case, a fly named Jesse.
“So?” he casually remarked. “Not the first time.”
Ella’s lips parted, but she remained quietly staring at him.
“Give us a minute.” He reached for her elbow and guided her outside, shutting the door behind him.
“Girlfriend troubles?” one of the men, whose name she didn’t know, asked.
“Oh, they’re not together,” Shep replied, which drew A.J.’s attention. He made a beeline for his brother, fists locked and loaded at his sides.
Shep tipped his head and caught Savanna’s eyes. “He knows?” he mouthed. She grimaced and nodded, then watched in surprise as Shep stuck out his chin and let A.J. punch him in the jaw.
“This is not how I was expecting y’all to roll out the welcome mat for us,” Griffin said, obviously trying hard to suppress a laugh, which distracted even A.J. to look away from Shep and over to Griffin.
A.J. shook out his hand and winced. “He had it coming. Trust me.”
Somehow, she could have sworn Griffin knew why, too, because those brown eyes ping-ponged back and forth between her and Shep. But then, he was probably an operator, good at reading a room and people.
Savanna went to the freezer and grabbed two bags of frozen peas—these boys worked hard and played harder, so ice packs of some sort were a staple in everyone’s freezer, including Jesse’s—and handed one off to A.J.
When she offered the other to Shep, their hands brushed for a quick moment, and he flinched. “Thanks,” he said softly. “Sorry about that.”
Her gaze journeyed up to his face, finding Shep’s eyes narrowed. Maybe I’m losing my mind?
“I’m Oliver, by the way. Didn’t have a chance to say hello,” one of the strangers piped up, another attempt to reset the tone of the room.
“Carter,” said the guy with hair the color of midnight and eyes like bittersweet chocolate. Everything about him screamed villain rather than hero.
“Nice to see you again, Savanna,” Jack said, and she couldn’t help but return his captivating smile.
And wow, what is wrong with me? These guys were there to help her, and for some insane reason, she was cataloging every detail about them as if she were the Bachelorette with her very own season and suitors. But damn, these men were smoking hot. And if they were all single?—
She usually thought it was a load of BS that so many of the men in romance novels just happened to be insanely handsome. And that every hero who was in the military was a hot badass with, at minimum, a six-pack. Looked like she needed to reconsider that opinion because hello to the men in the room. Fiction meets reality?
“Well, thank you all for coming.” She felt the need to kick things off since they were there for her, and she had a few things she needed to get off her chest. “But I have no idea what happened last night. Or why those men were in my place. I also can’t afford to pay you. And I can’t afford to close my cafe? for another day. I don’t have any employees. It’s just me. So, please don’t ask.”
“I told you not to worry about money.” A.J. tossed the bag of peas on the kitchen island, shot his brother an irritated look, then focused back on Savanna. “But you can’t operate the cafe? until we’re certain all threats have been extinguished. Whoever may be after you might target the cafe? next.”
Her shoulders fell at the bad news A.J. laid out for her. If she closed Savanna’s, even for a few days, she might lose her townhouse. On the other hand, she would never put anyone in harm’s way.
I’m not touching that money under my bed, either. No, no, no.
“You don’t need to worry about paying us. I can cover any loss of profits while you’re closed as well,” Carter said.
Savanna shook her head, but it was Griffin her eyes fixed on. And her romance-novel-addicted self promptly jumped headfirst into a fantasy of the many repayment options a heroine in a book might offer the hero. And why did she have the desire to pay this man back in naughty, naughty ways? Oh. My. God. Savanna, stop .
Sex. I need it. It’s been . . . well, since . . . She shot Shep a quick glance and hid her face in her palm for a moment, worried it was beet red and everyone would instantly become aware of her dirty thoughts.
But did it end there? Nope. Her lustful thoughts hijacked her vocal cords, and she blurted, “Well, don’t expect me to trade orgasms for protection.”
She was sure Shep and A.J. were having mild heart attacks right about then.
But it was Griffin she was unable to rip her gaze away from when she looked up. He had his palm flat on the kitchen island off to his side as he observed her with an amused and slightly cocky expression on his face. Like he was picturing just such a repayment plan playing out in his head.
Now her cheeks were really on fire.
“Savanna,” Jesse barked out like a dad chastising his daughter.
“She was kidding,” Ella softly said, prompting Savanna to tear her eyes from Griffin and turn toward the French doors. It seemed her best friend had finished lecturing Jesse outside.
“I don’t like not paying for your time and help,” Savanna explained, hoping her faux pas would quickly be forgotten. “There might be a way I can pay you back.” Although, if she wouldn’t use that money to pay her bills, why would she use it to pay these guys?
“I’ve got you covered, and that’s all you need to know.” Carter’s voice was firm and deep, and she found herself not wanting to argue with the man. There was a slightly dangerous gleam to his eyes.
Well, glad you’re on my side.
“We took my private plane, so I brought everything we might need,” Carter added, diving back into the business of why they were there.
“What types of things might you need?” Savanna asked.
Ella planted herself alongside Savanna and crossed her arms as they stared at the eight men crowding the kitchen.
Jeez. Eight? Four short of a sexy calendar. “What is it that you aren’t telling me?”
“We’re still working on identifying who may have sent those men,” A.J. began, his tone low and deep, and she recognized the look in his eyes. He’d flipped that operator-mode switch in his brain and was “Just the facts, ma’am” like Marcus used to do whenever he engaged in work talk. “These types of guys usually operate under someone else’s orders, which means their boss, whoever he or she may be, wants you. Or something you might have.”
“Might have?” What in the hell would I have? Who would want me? It made no freaking sense.
“My sister sent a secure email transmission on everything she found, but Natasha will be going off-the-grid for a bit, so I hate to say that’s the extent of the help she can offer,” Gray spoke up.
“What’d Natasha find?” Savanna turned her gaze to A.J., wondering why he hadn’t shared Natasha’s info earlier while she was baking up a storm. Surely he knew what Natasha had provided to Gray.
Her attention moved back to Gray as he folded his arms over his black tee and focused on her. “Natasha ran the dead intruder’s photo through the CIA’s facial recognition software,” Gray began, “and she tracked him to the airport in Birmingham. He was using an alias. Fake passport. After a little more digging, she identified the man as Greek. He took a flight from Athens. We’re under the assumption the other two men with him were Greek as well.”
“Natasha was also able to determine the hotel he stayed at using her software, but the men stayed off local CCTV footage in and around the city,” Jack added. “Well-trained to know how to avoid almost all cams.”
“Beckett and I went to that hotel earlier,” A.J. dropped the news on her.
What the hell? She hated being in the dark. But they were only trying to protect her, she supposed.
“From what we can tell, the men didn’t return to the hotel after what went down at your townhouse. They most likely emptied the room before they ever went to your house,” A.J. told her, which set her heart pounding against her rib cage.
“Also, as far as we know, the men were only in Birmingham for one night before they came after you, so they didn’t spend much time stalking you to learn your patterns,” Gray pointed out.
Stalking? This was becoming too much. “They wouldn’t have needed to do any stalking. I work and sleep. Pretty simple to figure out.”
“We’re monitoring all airports, and they’ll get flagged if they try to leave the country,” Jack said. “Our next step is to figure out who the hell they really are, who they work for, and why they might have come after you.”
Yeah, a pretty important next step. “But you don’t think they plan to give up? They still want me.” A million thoughts swirled through her mind as she turned away from the men. She wanted to burst into angry tears, but when Ella set a comforting hand on her shoulder, she calmed down. Thank God for her friends.
Savanna’s eyes focused on the flour-and-sugar-covered island, then to the floor when a pair of black boots appeared in her peripheral vision. She shifted to the side and slowly pulled her gaze up. Dark denim, black button-down shirt open to reveal a black tee and then on up to Griffin’s tan throat before settling on his piercing brown eyes.
“We’re fairly confident they’re going to connect the dots to your friendship with Jesse, and they’ll come here looking for you too. It’s not a matter of if,” Griffin said in a low voice, “it’s a matter of when.”
“You trying to scare her?” Jesse bit out, the brother she never had, but she’d always wanted. Now she had more than she could handle. She’d basically been adopted by A.J.’s teammates as well as the entire Hawkins family.
“Savanna needs to understand the danger she’s in. And that if she stays here much longer, she’s basically offering herself up as bait,” Griffin said, turning his attention away from her and to Jesse on approach.
She faced both of them, and Ella lowered her hand from her shoulder.
“I’ll stay here and wait for them,” Jesse offered. “I’d like a second chance at those bastards.”
“No way.” Ella’s worry for the man she claimed she was done, done, done with surely wasn’t done.
“You know I’d never put Savanna in harm’s way.” A.J. strode closer, and some of the other guys fell back and out of Savanna’s line of sight as if sensing this was a family matter.
And yet, Griffin remained firm. He didn’t appear to be going anywhere.
Why was there a little jump in her pulse when her eyes met his again?
“If the remaining two guys from last night are as good as you say they are, you sure you can protect Savanna?” Ella tossed out, and Griffin’s brows lifted in insult.
“Jesse singlehandedly wiped the floor with them. But I don’t think that was because those men lacked skills. It’s just that Jesse’s are, well, superior,” Griffin responded, his gaze cutting to Jesse for a moment, then back to Savanna’s best friend.
“Would you rather her stay at some hotel an hour away with just one guy? Or here with us?” Carter joined the conversation.
“Savanna’s not going to be bait,” Shep intervened.
Ugh. Too many men in here. Too many guys gearing up to butt heads. It was her life. Shouldn’t she have a say?
“Over my dead body,” Shep added, and ouch, those words hurt. The idea of losing him, or anyone because of her, was too much to handle.
“I’d still like to know why anyone from Greece is after you,” A.J. addressed one of the main issues at hand.
“That makes two of us,” Savanna said softly, and then a lightbulb went off in her head, and she squeezed her eyes shut. There was one possibility. A weird one, but still a possibility.
When she opened her eyes again, she found a room full of onlookers staring at her with curiosity as if they sensed she’d had an ah-ha moment.
“What is it, Savanna?” Griffin spoke first, and for some reason hearing him say her name had goose bumps scattering across her arms.
“We need to go to my place. There’s something I want to show you,” she confessed, hating that she’d kept this secret from everyone, and she was worried how A.J., in particular, would handle the news.
But didn’t he have a flight to catch?
“Fine,” Carter said. “We wait for sunset. Jack and Oliver will clear your house, then keep an eye on the front and back streets to ensure it’s safe to arrive. Griffin and I will escort you.” He pointed to Jesse. “Shep and Jesse, you stay here. Keep an eye out in case we get visitors sooner than we expect.”
“I still have one more question,” Savanna said, her brows tightening. “Whatever happened to the dead body, and are we telling the police?”