Peace for Her (Nashville Security #2)

Chapter 1

Nate

Abreath heaves from my lungs as I stare at the ceiling, my arms crossed over my chest.

“You know this is huge for Nash. We can’t have just anyone on this job. And most of our employees are too new or are already on other jobs during all or part of the tour,” Jack Sanders, my business partner and one of my best friends, reasons with me.

We have spent the last seven years growing Nash Security into one of the elite security firms in Nashville. Our company provides personal and event security, and we help design and install home and business security systems.

Our business exploded during the last year, which has been great, but that means Jack and I have been working more jobs than we usually would as the owners.

Even though we’ve been hiring and interviewing new employees, it takes them time to get up to speed.

We have expectations for our staff and for ourselves with how we conduct business, and we never want to rush that and put someone on the job too soon.

This contract is pivotal to the future of our company.

Three months ago, we received an email from the management team of one of the most popular country music singers.

They explained that they had a falling out with their previous security company and were looking for a new one for an upcoming nationwide tour.

The meetings were extensive and numerous, but they eventually told us they wanted to hire us to provide personal security for the artist.

It’s a high-profile job and doesn’t allow for any mistakes. Unfortunately for me, this means we need the most experienced people assigned to the tour.

I hate the idea of being back traveling for months on end. Jack and I both got out of the military and other lines of work that forced us to be gone for extended amounts of time, for a reason, and I’m not looking forward to doing it again, even if it’s temporary.

“Fine, but I’m taking Ian.”

Jack and I may own Nash Security, but Ian might as well be our third partner because of how much work he does for this company. He also happens to be one of our best friends.

Jack scoffs. “You can’t take Ian.”

“You said yourself how important this job is for our company. We need the best guys on it. And that, my friend,” I pause for dramatic effect, “is me and Ian. Technically, you too, but I’m assuming you won’t go because you’re about to be wifed up.”

Jack throws me an annoyed glare. “My wedding has nothing to do with this. Someone has to stay behind to run this place.”

There’s no way that’s true, and my facial expression tells him as much. “Please, you know Ella could run this place without the three of us here.”

He huffs out a laugh. “You aren’t wrong about Gisella.

Pretty sure a couple of the new guys are scared of her.

But I will begrudgingly admit that I’m a little hesitant to leave her.

” Leaning forward in his chair, he puts his elbows on his desk while running a hand roughly down his face.

His hard stare locks with mine. “After everything that happened, I get anxiety from the thought of leaving her for long periods of time.” Shaking his head, his face falls.

“She also still has nightmares sometimes about being taken.”

Ella, or Gisella, as he calls her, is Jack’s fiancée as of a couple of weeks ago.

Jack has refused to call her by her shortened name since the day they met.

He only calls her by her full name because of some cheesy notion he has about how special it is, just like her.

As the romantic of the group, I’m all for it.

So she’s Ella to everyone but him. They’ve been together for over ten months now, and I couldn’t be happier for them.

She was kidnapped by her psycho embezzler of a boss and his son last year, and it was pretty traumatic for all of us.

While she has done a lot of work with her therapist, she still has days when she struggles.

I hate to hear that she has nightmares about it.

And I certainly can’t fault Jack for wanting to stay close.

I would feel the exact same way if I were him.

After she recovered from her injuries, she decided she didn’t want to go back to corporate accounting, so we offered her the job that was left vacant by our retiring receptionist. She accepted the position, and it has slowly morphed into her being our receptionist, office manager, scheduler, and bookkeeper.

She also is a damn good baker and supplies us with weekly homemade treats.

“So…I get Ian?”

Jack sighs. “Fine. It’s you and Ian.” He rolls his shoulders. “Maybe it’ll be good for him. Get him out of his funk.”

Ian has always been on the serious side; he and Jack have that in common, but it’s gotten worse over the last year or so. He refuses to talk to us about it.

“I hope so,” I agree.

“Go give Ian the news and have Gisella start reassigning all the jobs you both were scheduled for during the tour.”

When I leave Jack’s office, I walk down the hall to tell Ian that the plans for the next couple of months have changed. I rap on his half-open door and step in without waiting for a response. He’s staring at his computer screen, looking more severe than usual.

I didn’t know Ian before he came to work for us, but he and Jack were close when they served together in the military.

He stayed in longer than Jack or I did, and from what I’ve gathered from snippets of stories he’s told, he’s still haunted by some things that happened during his deployments.

But there’s one mission in particular he doesn’t talk about that I think eats at him the most.

“Why do you look so pissed?” I ask as I drop into the chair facing his desk.

Ian looks up from his computer screen with a scowl. “I’m not pissed.”

“Huh. Could have fooled me.”

His scowl deepens.

“Okay, well, I just came in here to tell you that you and I are on the Jenny Bell detail.”

For a few seconds, he only stares at me. “He’s letting both of us go? How did you convince Jack?”

I shrug. “It wasn’t that hard. He knows how important this is for the company, and we need the best guys on the job. And since he refuses to leave Ella, that leaves us.”

He nods slowly. “Sounds good to me. When does the tour start?”

That question has me grimacing. “Sunday.”

He widens his eyes, and I rush to continue. “I know it doesn’t leave us much time to prepare. But we can make it happen.”

A pinched brow precedes his response. “It’s Thursday.”

I cross my arms and sigh. “It is. But we don’t exactly have an option.”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head in frustration. “Alright, let’s figure this shit out.”

We spend the next thirty minutes discussing everything we need to do to prepare. Once we’re done, we have a good plan, and I’m less annoyed to be on this assignment.

A few hours later, as I’m pulling into my driveway, my phone starts ringing. I groan when one of my sister’s names shows on the screen.

I love both of my sisters, but they can be a bit obnoxious, nosy, and overbearing.

I prepare myself before I connect the call and climb out of my truck. “Lori, it’s been almost twenty-four hours since we last talked. I’m shocked you lasted this long to annoy me.”

“Listen, jerk, you may be bigger than me, but I’m still your older sister, and I can take you out.” Lori is the middle sister. When it’s all three of us, she’s the classic middle child mediator, but when it’s just her and I, she takes the bossy older sister role seriously.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, so you’ve told me.”

Lori’s laugh tolls through my phone. “I did call you for a reason. Are you coming to Brian’s birthday party on Saturday night?

” Brian is Lori’s long-time boyfriend. They decided a long time ago not to get married.

He’s a good guy, more reserved and cautious than my sisters and me, but he balances Lori.

And he treats her like a queen, so I haven’t had to kill him.

Once inside, I throw my stuff on the dining room table and grab a water from the fridge. “Absolutely. Can I bring anything?”

“A date?”

“Will you leave me alone about that? I will find her when I find her.”

Lori’s long, dramatic, drawn-out sigh makes me roll my eyes. “But what are you doing to find her, Nathaniel?”

“Oh man, I have a bad connection. I need to go. I can’t really hear-”

“I know you’re-”

I disconnect the call as I flop down on my couch and turn on my TV. I’ll get crap about hanging up on her when I see her this weekend, but I don’t have the energy to get lectured about my love life by my sister today.

They mean well. And they’re worried about me, but I don’t want to force anything. Before they died, my parents had a wonderful relationship and were madly in love. That’s what I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember.

And even though I’m not getting any younger, I’m only thirty-nine. I still have time to meet the person I’m meant to be with.

My phone vibrates next to me, and I pick it up, expecting it to be one of my sisters.

Ian: Want to go work out?

I’m tired, but I text him back that I’ll meet him at the gym in fifteen minutes.

My muscles protest as I press the barbell. Ian stands at my head, spotting me. “Nate, stop being a little bitch. You benched this last week with no problem.”

A grunt leaves me as I rack the barbell and sit up, undoing my wrist straps. “Fuck you. Let’s see you do better.”

Ian gives me a disgruntled look, and I laugh. We both know he can lift much heavier than I can. We switch places after he loads more weight on the bar, and I ask, “Did you get fitted for your suit for the wedding?”

His voice is strained from the effort of his lift. “Yeah, went to get it altered today. Lady doing my measurements was pretty hot.”

“Oh yeah? You ask her out?” I’ve known Ian to have casual and temporary relationships with women. I’ve only ever met one, and that was only by chance, because I happened to show up at the same restaurant they were at. I never saw her again.

“Nah. I don’t have time for that shit right now.”

He shows signs of fatigue, and I grab the bar and help him rack it. As he sits up, I lean my forearms on the bar, asking, “You think you’ll ever get married?”

“Absolutely not,” he answers emphatically as he tightens his wrist straps.

“Why not?” While a little grumpy, Ian is a great guy. One of the best I know. He, of all people, deserves to find someone.

He gives me a grim look. “Men like me aren’t meant for that shit.”

I straighten as he resumes the position, indicating he’s ready for his next set. “That’s fucking stupid. Of course, you are.”

“Nate, can you shut the fuck up about this shit? If I wanted to talk about love and marriage, I would’ve texted Jack,” he basically growls as he labors to lift the heavy weight.

I sigh but keep my mouth shut.