Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I’m still trying to comprehend what just happened and why we’re in a minivan with a Baby On Board sticker on the back window,” Savanna said in a rush, her hand clutching her chest as if she’d just run a mile over rough terrain and witnessed another murder.
Griffin returned his eyes to the road. And yeah, that last part had happened, so he didn’t blame her for being shaken up.
He also didn’t need to peer her way again to know her hazel eyes were fixed on his profile. He felt her curious stare travel over him as he sat unaffected by what had gone down.
Maybe not totally unaffected. He was damn exhausted. He’d spent all morning in Pennsylvania— was that really just this morning? —running tests meant for much younger operators, immediately followed by jumping on a flight to Alabama, during which he got no rack time as the guys went over the mission details. Add to that this intriguing woman with her sexy voice and her breathy sighs that only served to call his attention to her tits, and he was worn out. It took a hell of a lot of work to keep himself from scoping her out every few minutes.
“You’re safe. That’s all you need to wrap your head around,” he finally replied, which probably wasn’t the answer she’d hoped for.
The minivan’s tires crunched over the gravel along the unpaved road clearly meant for an ATV or other off-road vehicle, but it’d been their only option to safely flee without notice. The heavily wooded area butted up to Jesse’s property, and fortunately, all but one man had stormed the property from the north and south sides, which were the more vulnerable entry points.
“I don’t think we have a tail, but I’ll feel better when we’re a klick or two farther from Jesse’s.”
“We’re only two klicks away now. Still too close,” she said after another one of her breathy exhales, but at least he wasn’t looking at her this time.
Savanna’s use of the word “klicks” was yet another reminder she wasn’t just a civilian in danger. She was a civilian that’d been married to an elite operator, a Teamguy once upon a time ago.
“When exactly did y’all park this van out in the woods?” she asked, bumping against his forearm resting against the console as she twisted around to get a better look at their ride.
“We decided to have a backup vehicle in a secure location ready for an exfil in the event anyone made a surprise visit.” He paused for a second when she bumped into him again while facing forward, then shifted his gaze to see her wriggling in her seat and adjusting the seat belt as if fumbling with a reserve chute she was worried she might need to deploy.
The belt caught the scooped neck of her shirt, pulling it down enough to reveal the top edge of her bra. It was too dark in the van to make out the material or color, but his imagination skipped ahead and decided on nude and lace. A thin material that’d have her nipples poking through if?—
And his dick twitched.
Not all of him was exhausted.
“So, are you going to answer me, or continue to stare at my breasts instead of the road?”
Welp , as his uncle from the Midwest would say, slapping his legs and standing from his chair as a signal for visitors to leave his house . . .
She. Just. Went. There.
“Is it really that hard?” Okay, now she was just fucking with him.
“That a trick question?” Because yes, his dick was getting to that point despite the fatigue.
“Is it really that hard to answer my question,” she clarified, enunciating each syllable as if he were hard of hearing too.
“Yes, it’s very hard.” Griffin shot her a grin, the one his friends called his “cocky asshole” grin, but immediately regretted it. Rein it in and get your mind out of the gutter, Griff. “My team made arrangements while on the flight here for an inconspicuous vehicle to be accessible if needed. Since A.J. and Jesse know the lay of the land, they chose the location for it. Good thing we had that foresight too, or else we would have been hiking to the nearest highway.” He congratulated himself for dodging her blunt accusation that he’d been staring at her breasts.
“I assume you didn’t anticipate having to shoot that man on our little jaunt through the woods to the escape van? Speaking of which, whoever decided that an abandoned minivan with a Baby on Board sticker and no car seats in sight qualified as ‘inconspicuous,’ needs to be fired.”
He wasn’t sure which surprised him more, her sass in using air quotes or that she made it through her little speech seemingly in one breath.
“It was you, wasn’t it,” she mused, and he could see her fully facing him now from the corner of his eye. “You were the one who thought a deserted murder van was a good idea.”
He cast her a quick look, doing his best not to be a dick and check out her cleavage again as he verified her shirt was back in place. “I was prepared for any possibility,” he finally answered since she’d only lifted a brow in response, notable even in the dim lighting. “This is plan B. And plan B involves taking you to a secure location about an hour and a half north of here until we can regroup and reassess what happened.”
“And what if someone gets hurt back there? We haven’t heard from Jesse, or the others, yet.” Her sass was suddenly stamped out by fear. She couldn’t lose anyone else in her life, and he could relate to that on many levels.
“Not their first rodeo,” he calmly said, knowing Carter could hold down the fort singlehandedly from what he’d seen in the past, so he wasn’t concerned.
The guys had all worked as a cohesive unit tonight, which he’d had his reservations about even after two weeks of training, especially in regard to Jack, so maybe there was hope for them yet.
“Your confidence is comforting, I suppose,” she returned, sounding skeptical.
“Plus, your boyfriend or friend, whoever he is to you, is John Wick, remember?”
Why did I say that?
“Jesse’s my best friend,” she quickly answered. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
He chuckled. “There’s no such thing as men and women being best friends. Single men don’t chill with gorgeous, single women without hoping for more.”
“You think I’m gorgeous, huh?”
He turned onto a main road, feeling a bit better now that they were out of the woods. Figuratively as well, he hoped. “Yes, ma’am, I do.” And from what he’d witnessed so far, Savanna was much more than gorgeous. She was smart and sassy and able to hold her own in a room full of testosterone-fueled men. She also kept a level head during a crisis. Not many people would have been able to handle what she’d been through in the past twenty-four hours. So no, it wasn’t just her beauty that made it difficult for him to collect his thoughts every time she stood close to him or stared into his eyes as if trying to read him like a novel.
He opted to keep his gaze forward, worried that if he were to look at her, she’d see right through him yet again. She’d know that there was no way in hell he could ever be friends with a woman like her. Because he would constantly be angling to take her to bed. Sex was all he could offer any woman right now, and although he didn’t know Savanna, he knew she deserved more than that from a man. A hell of a lot more.
“Jesse has the hots for A.J.’s sister, Ella. Remember their little showdown in the kitchen tonight?”
Ah, right. He’d almost forgotten about that, what with so much having happened since then.
“And we really are only friends. Not all men need to bang every woman they know. Sounds like a you problem.”
He lightly laughed. “Mm-hm, sure.”
“Besides, pretty much everyone in the state of Alabama has labeled me as off-limits because of, well, you know.”
“Pretty much means not everyone. Who’s the exception?” The words rolled off his tongue a bit too easily, and it had him wondering why he was having this conversation because it was clearly none of his business. “Shep, huh?” he asked, a moment later, even though he’d tried to stop himself from speaking his thoughts, but it was like trying to stop a bullet from traveling down the barrel of a rifle after squeezing the trigger. Not gonna fucking happen. “I reckon A.J. isn’t in the habit of punching his brother for no good reason.” Griffin had slipped deeper into his Southern accent that time. After twenty-plus years spinning up on countless ops and over five deployments overseas, his accent had a tendency to come and go depending on his mood or level of fatigue.
“Anyways,” Savanna dragged out, elongating the syllables in a way that his tired brain found suggestive. Like anyways , let’s pull over and practice making that baby that’s supposed to be on board.
Sex on the brain after shooting a man in the head seven minutes ago. Sounds about right.
“Did you have to shoot the man in the head? You couldn’t have gone for a shoulder?” Had she read his mind?
She massaged her right hand, the one he’d been gripping on to for dear life to keep her running at his pace when they’d torn across the property.
“It was us or him. Rules of engagement, in this case, should help you sleep at night. I’m not some stone-cold killer.” And why did it bother him so much that she might think that?
“I’m not questioning why you shot him. He did have a gun aimed at us. And,” she continued, a touch of surrender in her tone, “if you’d only wounded him, he may have had a chance to kill Jesse or the others. I, um, guess I get it,” she whispered as though getting it, but not liking that fact. “I’ve now seen three people killed before my eyes.”
Three?
Fuck.
Her husband. She had witnessed that moment.
“You got your Stateside kill,” she added lightly, back to relying on humor to deflect and distract from reality, just like him.
He turned onto another road, allowing the GPS on his phone mounted to the dash to guide them, then he peeked at her. “Is it working?”
“Is what working?”
“The humor? Is it helping you?”
Her shoulders fell. “I don’t know what I’m doing, to be honest. I just need to know everyone is okay back there.”
“They’re fine.”
“Yeah, and I overheard Carter before we left.” She looked away from him, so he reset his attention on the road, where it should be. “Eight men stormed Jesse’s property. Eight freaking men were sent to get me. This time, with weapons. It doesn’t make sense. Who am I to these people?”
“If this is connected to Nick, I’m gonna assume he stepped into some deep shit, and you’re somehow getting pulled into the fray,” Griffin answered as honestly as he could. It was also the only thing that made sense.
He was about to toss around a few more theories, but the incoming call from Carter stopped him.
He grabbed the phone and brought it to his ear instead of answering on speakerphone. “Go ahead,” he said straight away.
“The house is secure. None of our people were hurt,” Carter shared the good news. “Six tangos, including the one you shot, are down. A bloodbath that I don’t think the sheriff will be able to cover up this time.”
“Everyone is okay,” he mouthed to Savanna, watching as she closed her eyes and brought both hands over her heart.
“We’ve got two survivors we kept alive for questioning,” Carter went on. “We need to move to a new location before the local PD, FBI, or whoever the hell else decides to make an appearance shows up.”
“Where are you taking them?” Griffin asked.
“Too risky to bring them to where you’re headed, so we’re working on securing a site now. You think you can handle her on your own for a night or two while we figure out what the fuck is going on in this small town?”
Griffin stole a look at the woman he’d have to “handle,” knowing keeping her safe wouldn’t be a problem. But the strange gut-punch reaction to her whenever she looked into his eyes or even when her arm innocently touched him was a curveball he hadn’t prepared for, and he did his best to prepare for everything.
“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll let you know when we arrive.”
“I’m calling in some of our other guys to put together a five-man team for additional protective detail for the town. We don’t need more tangos showing up and attacking one of Savanna’s friends to try and draw her out. Between the five of them, the sheriff, and the rest of A.J.’s family, we should have everyone covered.”
Contingencies for their contingencies. Better to be prepared. “Roger that.” Griffin ended the call and placed the phone back on the mount, explained what Carter had said, then added, “We won’t be able to keep this mess from the police. And that many bodies will draw out the Feds. They’re leaving Jesse’s soon with the two guys they kept alive to question.”
“A.J.’s wife is FBI. Well, she teaches at Quantico now, but maybe she can help cover our tracks?” She paused for a moment. “Do we turn back or keep going?”
His body went stiff at the feel of her hand on his forearm, and he slowed the vehicle a bit to take a second to peer at her. “For now, we stick to the plan,” he said before swallowing. “It’s just you and me.”
“I wish I could at least talk to Ella or Jesse. I hate not being in contact with them.” Savanna drummed her fingers on her thighs as they neared their final destination for the evening. She hadn’t spoken much during the remainder of the trip, which suited him just fine. “And it feels weird being without my phone.”
“We couldn’t take the risk that someone might use it to track you. Also, someone may be listening in on your friends’ calls. So, that’s out for now too,” he calmly explained.
“Where’s this place you’re taking me?”
“My dad owns a large piece of property he uses for hunting near the Tennessee River. Muscle Shoals is only about fifteen minutes away if we need to go into town, which I’d prefer not to do, but I should probably feed you.” He smiled without looking over at her. “Don’t worry, the place is heavily fortified and secure.”
“Your dad won’t be there, I take it?”
Griffin shook his head.
“Why does your dad have a heavily fortified hunting property? What’s he afraid of, someone poaching deer on his land before he can get to them?”
“Something like that.” He glanced at Savanna to find her eyes focused on the side window, watching the trees blur by in the dark of night.
“My dad was with the 101st Airborne Division,” he found himself admitting as if that’d explain why his father had such a secure property. “I was born at Fort Campbell. My mom’s water broke at the PX.”
Before he looked away, she pivoted to find his eyes as if shocked he’d just shared a page from that closed book he’d claimed to be. “That’s the Army base on the Tennessee and Kentucky border, right?”
He nodded, then set both hands on the wheel as he fixed his focus on the road. They were getting close to his old man’s place, and he didn’t want to miss the turn that wouldn’t show up on his GPS.
“So, you joined because of him?” Before he had a chance to consider if he was going to answer, she said, “Never mind. You’re not an open book. Forgot.”
His shoulders damn near collapsed at the sound of hurt echoing in her tone. “Yeah, I joined because of him. The Army has been my life since I was born, I suppose.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her because he was still surprised he’d opened up even the slightest bit.
“I assume he taught you how to shoot?”
“Mm-hm,” was all he’d surrender.
The few minutes of silence that followed made him uncomfortable for some reason, and when she piped up with her next question, he realized why. She was going to ask him something he wasn’t sure he was prepared to answer. “Killing someone so quickly like you did earlier, and how Jesse did . . . I guess I just don’t understand?—”
“How we do it and stay sane?” he finished for her, his stomach knotting. “Not all of us do, by the way.” Why did my voice just break? “A lot of guys survive on a combination of Ambien, alcohol, Prozac, Red Bull, and dark humor to deal with deployment. To cope with the horrors of war.”
“And did you? Is that how you survived?”
Damn it, it was too late in the day for this conversation, and also, not one he ever wanted to have. “I have my own ways of dealing.”
“It’s okay,” she said, her voice now soft, almost tender. “I shouldn’t have even asked. Marcus never wanted to talk about any of this, either. Jesse’s the same. A.J. too.”
That knot in his stomach loosened a bit with relief that she seemed to be wrapping up the topic. So why he opted to remark, “Dehumanize the enemy,” was beyond him. “The guy I killed tonight wasn’t a father. A brother. A son. He wasn’t human. That’s how I do it. That’s the only way I can take a life.” He turned left onto the back road that’d lead them to his father’s land. “Yes, it’s a them-or-me, or a them-or-my-friend kind of thing first and foremost. But you also have to train your mind to believe that they’re evil. Not human. It will fuck with your head and your emotions if you don’t.”
“I’m sorry you had to do that for me tonight. And thank you for sharing. That’s not easy, I know.”
Griffin’s chest grew tight when she gently placed a hand on his thigh, the warmth of her touch passing through his jeans.
And she did know because she’d been married to a SEAL and had witnessed him render the ultimate sacrifice—his life. Savanna knew more than she should ever know about such things.
“It’s okay,” Griffin lied, then reset his focus on the road ahead. He didn’t want to trigger one of the security measures his overly paranoid father had installed. Though tonight he was grateful for his father’s paranoia because they’d have a safe haven. “We’re here,” he announced a minute later when he stopped outside the gated entrance. “Stay in the van.”
He hopped out quickly and strode over to the security panel off to the side of the main gate, but at the sound of the passenger door opening, he quickly spun around.
“Stay in the car.” He lifted a hand in the air, redirecting her to get back.
“Why?”
“This fence,” he said, pointing to what amounted to an eight-foot-tall border wall topped with barbed wire, “will shock the fuck out of you if you touch it. Not to mention all the other shit my dad has booby-trapped out here to catch anyone trying to breach his property.”
“Wow, so he really took security to the next level, huh?”
You have no idea. He twirled a finger for her to get back in the vehicle, then opened the small panel and set his palm on the scanner. Next came the eight-digit passcode. And lastly, a key.
Overprotective or crazy? Maybe both.
“I guess we will be safe here,” she said once he was back inside the van and the electronic gate parted for them.
“Hopefully,” was the best answer he could provide because, at this point in time, they didn’t know exactly what they were up against or who was hunting her down.
“Wow,” she said as they neared the two-story lodge that sat at the highest point on the four and a half acres of property. The log home with a green roof also had a matching guesthouse out back that could be used as a temporary command center in case the rest of the team decided to show up to work from there. “I mean no disrespect, but how does someone in the Army afford all of this?”
“My mom’s money,” was all he’d said on that matter, and then he parked inside the attached three-car garage between a black Jeep and black GMC Sierra truck.
He went around to the back of the van once the garage door closed and opened the trunk.
“Well, lucky you, you have stuff,” Savanna said with a smirk as he grabbed the duffel bag.
Griffin smiled and motioned for her to head inside. “Your stuff is in here too, Sugar.” He resisted a wink, remembering her comment earlier about snipers.
He was a sniper, but he didn’t need to play into any stereotypes.
“When did you have a chance to get clothes for me?” She didn’t move as directed and planted her hands on her hips.
It was late. They’d been through a lot. And yet, this woman with the most beautiful hazel eyes he’d ever seen hadn’t lost the fire in her belly.
“When we were at your townhouse tonight, I grabbed some stuff from your room in case we had to implement plan B. Jesse put the bag in the van when we got back to his place afterward,” he explained as if it were no big deal, and why would it be?
Her plump lips parted as her eyes fell to the bag he had clutched in one hand. “Underwear too?”
“Um, well, yeah. I assumed you’d want clean drawers.”
“My drawers,” she said, exaggerating her Southern accent so that it sounded more like “draws,” “are not for you to be touching.” And damn it, just like the last time she employed that technique, his dick, who he’d just gotten down for a nap, woke up yet again.
“Fine. I can toss them,” he teased, then started to turn, but she snatched his forearm, igniting a rush of heat that traveled up to his shoulder.
When they both looked down to where she was touching him, Savanna gasped softly and yanked her hand away like she’d been burned. “Just give me the bag.”
“So you can touch my drawers?”
Her lips twitched as she narrowed her eyes, and Griffin knew she was biting back a quip. But she turned and climbed the three steps that led to the door, and he brushed past her to unlock it.
“Plenty of bedrooms, I assume?” She wandered through the large living room once he’d turned on the lights and started for the big fireplace that was the focal point of the open space. “Just glad this isn’t a one-bed trope.”
“What’s a one-bed trope?” he asked after locking up and turning the security system back on.
A touch of red traveled up her cheeks as he set down their bag and approached her.
“Forget what I said,” she whispered shyly.
But how could he, especially when it caused her to blush? He folded his arms across his chest and raised his eyebrows in expectation.
“Fine.” She licked her lips, and he couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped his throat. “I love to read romance novels, and in a lot of the books, well . . .” Her cute stammer and the way she’d wet her lips were distracting as hell. “The hero and heroine in the books often end up having to share a bed, and you know . . .”
He did know, but he found himself wanting her to spell it out for him. Such a bad idea. “No, I, uhm don’t.” He feigned ignorance, but his husky tone may have given him away as he stalked closer, fighting the urge to wrap a hand behind her back and draw her tight to his body.
“The dance with no pants,” she stage-whispered, eyes wide as if willing him to understand without having to actually say it. When he didn’t respond, her cheeks flushed again. “You know, to ‘share body heat,’” she said while using air quotes. He cocked his head to the side as if he still didn’t understand, though if she kept on with the double entendres, he probably wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face for much longer. “Sex,” Savanna finally blurted, lifting a hand up and under her hair and clasping the back of her neck. “They usually have sex.”
He dipped his chin to take in the sight of this woman who’d kept him on his toes from the moment they’d met.
Savanna’s straight eyebrows were darker than her hair, which meant she was most likely not a natural blonde, but it suited her. The honey-colored waves framed her oval face, with its prominent cheekbones, delicate nose, and full lips enhanced by slight laugh lines, even when she wasn’t smiling. And right now, those high cheekbones were stained pink with embarrassment. She was absolutely stunning.
“Do you think romance novels set unrealistic expectations?” Griffin asked, seemingly out of the blue, and hoped he didn’t insult her with the question, but he had his reasons.
She sucked in a shaky breath before replying, “You don’t approve of them?”
“I didn’t say that. But the idea of a happily-ever-after is what I find unrealistic. When in life do we get that guarantee?” His chest squeezed as he stared into the eyes of the woman he knew understood that reality far too well.
“You know a thing or two about romance novels,” she commented. “But that happily-ever-after is one reason why I read them. Because you’re right, life doesn’t offer many guarantees, and I need that escape. I need to know that the guy she falls in love with won’t . . . die.”
He leaned into her, unable to stop himself despite the mess of awful that had gone down tonight—beginning with her confession about the money and ending with them hightailing it up to his dad’s place. And he couldn’t forget her seeing him shoot a man in the face. He desperately wanted to hold on to her. To take away her pain, which wasn’t in his job description.
She faltered, nearly losing her balance, but he quickly caught her by the hips to keep her from careening into the fireplace. “But I am, um, a sucker for a good one-bed scene.”
“Not in real life, though?”
Savanna’s efforts to distract herself were working on him as well. His responsibilities were a million miles away while her gaze was set on his mouth, and his hands were on her body.
She answered with a shake of her head, but when she looked up, her hooded eyes said otherwise. “No, I-I don’t want that.”
He brought his mouth dangerously close to her full, pink lips and whispered, “So we’re both relieved that there’s more than one bed here?” With every word he spoke, Griffin’s body grew tenser, which was ridiculous. But his hands were still on her body, and she didn’t seem to be going anywhere.
“Right. Very relieved.” Her eyes fell closed for a second, and his attention skated down to her breasts lifting and falling with shallow, choppy breaths.
The bra was nude. And lacy. His imagination had been accurate earlier.
He was also an asshole for checking her out. But this tempting woman was practically right against his body, and she was beautiful. And smelled like a mix of cookies and pumpkin spice. He wanted to eat her right the fuck up, starting between her thighs.
Let. Her. Go. He swore he heard another man’s voice in his head. It definitely wasn’t his own. Marcus? He quickly released her and backed up, a reminder that the author of this woman’s story had stolen the man she’d loved, and Griffin wasn’t sure if anyone would ever be able to replace him.
When she opened her eyes and shot him a haunted, mystified look, as if she’d heard that voice, too, he forced out in a throaty voice, “I’ll show you to your room.”