CHAPTER SEVEN
DECLAN
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I’m going to need to find a gym close by because sitting around Stella’s penthouse all day while she writes is all we seem to be doing.
I’ve had three coffees and helped myself to four chocolate chip cookies from the jar in the kitchen. I’m not sure, but I think they’re homemade. Unlikely. They’re probably delivered in a fancy box each week.
My body is restless, and that’s not a feeling I’m used to.
I step out onto the spacious balcony, and the cool, crisp air bites my skin. I enjoy it. I’m going crazy pacing the house and trying to understand Stella’s motivations for marrying.
It is none of my business, and aside from doing my job well, I don’t know why I care.
Sure, I’d love to fuck her brains out and watch her fall apart with my cock deep inside her. Other than that, I’ve known her for less than a day so I shouldn’t even have an opinion.
Yet here we are.
Overhearing her father speak to her on the phone the way he did this morning did not sit well with me. Victor Voss is a powerful man. Stella will be used to his tone, but that doesn’t make it right. She hid her fear quickly when I saw it flicker across her face.
Interesting that she’s choosing to marry a man so similar to her father. I guess that’s what women do.
But the question is, does she have daddy issues, or is something more sinister going on?
I mean, you don’t hire a bodyguard and ask him not to let the man you’re marrying touch you because you are nervous and excited about your wedding.
I didn’t buy a single one of her lies.
Roaming the living room, I’ve learned more about her. Stella has a bookcase filled with everything from fiction to mystery and even a couple of personal development workbooks.
There are photos of her with friends skiing somewhere. I’m going to assume Switzerland. Another of her parents posing by a pool. Scented candles, expensive lamps, rugs and throws fill the space along with a lot of cushions.
Far too many cushions.
Why do women do that? They take up sitting space. It’s illogical.
When I discovered the book she wrote, I flicked through it but stopped. It felt like I was intruding without permission. From what I read, it was well written, but more of a chick flick.
I hope she doesn’t ask me about it.
I read motor mags.
And emails.
That’s it.
What my nosing around has told me is that Stella is smart. I already figured that by her hiring her own security prior to meeting her fiancé.
Agreeing to marry the guy? Not so much.
I stride out onto the balcony and lean my hands on the railing, staring out over Manhattan.
My workplace sure looks different than it did a month ago.
There are no naval officers or SEALs wandering around, no one to salute, no uniforms or ships...
just one high-rise building after the other, and the sounds of traffic, sirens and horns honking.
I’ve always loved New York City, so I was happy to accept the job Josh offered me. I won’t live and work here forever. I see the city as a steppingstone to a home I’ll one day create and settle down in.
One day.
I imagine myself with a good woman and starting a family. For now, this works.
I need this to work.
For me and mom.
She thinks I’ll return to the Navy, I know it. It’s as if her entire identity is attached to my father and his life and hero status, and me being a SEAL.
I get it in some ways, as so was mine for a long time. Especially in the early days. Earning my Trident was a fucking incredible day.
Then the real work begins, which no one except those in the special forces can understand. We have stopped wars, saved the lives of important men and women, and eliminated those who would harm millions.
Stuff that never hits the news and never will.
I’m proud as hell and will always be a SEAL. But that’s not all of who I am. I’m a son, a friend, a lover, and one day will be a father and husband.
I love baseball, pizza, the ocean, stormy weather, holding hands in the rain with a beautiful woman while I kiss her and promise dirty things when we get home.
I enjoy dining out at nice places despite being able to sleep on a mountainside and getting a few decent hours’ sleep. I prefer the sofa to the movie theater and think popcorn should be illegal. That shit gets stuck in your teeth for days.
While walking through a rainforest one night, I thought about what my life would be like when I finally made the jump. What I’d do.
Private security is the most natural next step for a SEAL to make. Especially working with Josh. It really was a no brainer.
But even this will have an expiration date.
My home has to be by water. My soul needs the ocean.
I know guys who have started marine operations businesses.
Moving expensive boats from one island to the other overnight to meet their wealthy owner.
The money is good. Couple that with yacht delivery, contracting to the big building companies, and it’s a lucrative cruising business.
That could take me into my sixties without much thought.
So, I have plans, none of which I could share with Mom. Who knows if Dad would have stayed much longer on the team. For all we know, he might have had his own plans to leave before he was killed.
His best friend, Chad, a fellow SEAL who is like an uncle to me, has never said anything, but then again, I don’t think he would. He also tiptoes around Mom’s emotions.
It’s gotta stop.
We have all supported her never-ending cycle of grief, which has stretched on for over twelve years. That’s not healthy.
When she had Chad call me to talk me out of quitting, I could hear the reluctance in his voice.
“Hey buddy,” Chad said.
“What’s up?”
“Was talking to your mom...” I rolled my eyes but gave him the floor and let him do what he had to do. “This the right thing?”
“Yup.”
“You thought it through?”
“Got a job working with Josh at BHS.” I was driving and had him on speaker, so turned left onto the street and kept an eye out for the store I was wanting to visit.
“Yeah? I’m hearing good things about them.”
“Solid reputation. I’ll be based in New York.”
“You’ve always loved the Big Apple.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Guess you won’t be too far from your mom in Newport.”
“Yup.” I spotted the store and pulled into the closest park. “So, you going to call her back and assure her I’m making a good decision?”
“Will do.”
I grinned. “See you at Thanksgiving.”
“Take care, son.”
He’d always called me son, even when Dad was alive.
So that had been that.
Mom would be okay. I love her and will help her adjust to the changes I am making in my life. But I won’t live to make her and only her happy.
I understood her pride at being the wife and mother of a SEAL. Hell, making it through BUDs was no mean feat. The six months of intense training has a huge dropout rate—around eight percent, if my memory serves me right—and ends in the infamous Hell Week.
Let me tell you, it's goddamn hell, all right.
I’m more than equipped to deal with some tough guy who may have links to organized crime and thinks he’s marrying Stella.
Correction: he is marrying her.
He won’t touch you.
I shouldn’t have said that to her. It’s a promise I can’t keep—one I shouldn’t keep—because in doing so I could stir up a hornet’s nest that could hurt her far more in the long run.
Stella Voss has chosen this path. My job is to ensure she is kept safe.
The question is, does her future husband plan to hurt her? And why does she think he would?
When I hear a noise, I turn.
“I need to head over to the Chelsea district,” Stella says, leaning her slim figure against the door frame. She’s biting her lip, looking unsure of herself.
“Okay,” I push away from the railing and stride calmly over to her.
She reacts. Her body stiffens with nerves as her nipples harden. It’s impossible to miss, given she’s not wearing a bra.
Her body is simply begging me to touch her and ignoring that is fucking hard. Pun intended.
Lips parting as I step up closer than necessary, I force her face to tip up. I like her like this. A little vulnerable, feeling small against my large size.
Feminine.
Soaking.
“Any particular spot?”
“What?”
“In Chelsea?”
“Oh,” she swallows and shakes her head. “No. I have writer's block, so need to walk around. To... write.”
I bet I know something else that could help her, but she’s paying my salary and marrying someone else, so I place my hand on the frame above her head and simply nod.
That’s when I realize my arrogance has backfired. Looking down into her blue globes makes me want to lean in and kiss her so goddamn badly I nearly do it. I’m talking, full willpower mode activated.
Jesus.
“Are you going to kiss me?” she asks, and I wonder if I’ve moved.
I might have.
An inch. Possibly two.
Shit.
“No.”
“You look like you want to.” Stella’s lids flicker, and I squeeze the metal frame of the door, painfully.
“Nope, just standing here.”
Fuck I’m a liar.
“You probably think I’m stupid.” She sighs.
“I don’t think that.”
“He’s obviously older—”
“None of my business.”
“It’s a family thing—”
“You don’t have to explain.” I interrupt a second time and then tug in a breath as Stella straightens and her body brushes mine when she ducks under my arm and takes a few steps away.
What the hell am I thinking?
If she rings Josh and makes a complaint, I’ll lose my damn job. Then what? Christ, Mom would love that, and it would destroy my future career. He’s a good and fair guy, but something like this he wouldn’t overlook.
Before I can apologize, she turns, and our eyes lock once more. Beat after beat we stand there, the scent of her perfume filling my senses, her lips parting as the gap between us fills with a sexual charge that slams into me.
My fingers twitch.
She wants me to grab her and slam my mouth down on hers. A man can read a woman when she’s in this state.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Roughly, as I lower my arm, I say. “Get your things.”
As if snapping out of a dream, Stella snaps out of it and glances away. Then she gives me one last lingering glance and darts away.
Jesus.
I swipe my hand over my face. Holy hell, that cannot happen again. Not only because she is our client but because the more time I spend with her, the more the idea of this criminal taking her as his bride makes me want to raze the earth.
This isn’t good.
Last week I was a guy who was happy to enjoy a one-night stand. Now I’m burning planets for a woman I haven’t even kissed.
Tugging out my phone, I ring Ryder. “You still in town?”
“Until Friday. What do you need?” he replies.
“You. With me on Thursday when Stella Voss heads to Mr. Marino’s house.”
“Is there a problem?”
Yeah, me wanting to kill the motherfucker if he lays a hand on her.
“I don’t have enough intel on the venue or agenda for the meeting. Stella has indicated that she wants a high level of protection. I think we need to add some more manpower.”
“Sure. You let me know how many.” We’re both quiet for a long moment until Ryder finally adds. “Something’s off about this.”
“You’re telling me. Why is she marrying this guy?”
“Has she said anything?”
“No, but her father is unhappy she canceled her security and wanted to escort her there on Thursday. When she said we’d follow, he wasn’t happy with that either.”
“Controlling.”
“Very.”
“He could make things difficult,” Ryder says what we’re both thinking.
“Without a doubt. So let me know if you are around or who else we might have available,” I say, because I know the office has just opened, and Ryder is busy recruiting and training.
“Jayden flies in on Wednesday, so I’ll speak to him.”
I was introduced to Jayden, a former sniper, when I was in Los Angeles a few weeks back. He’s off field work for now due to PTSD.
“If the shit hits the fan, how will Jayden cope?” I ask, trusting Ryder knows I’m not being disrespectful, simply ensuring a safe situation for everyone.
“He won’t be going into the field. I meant, he might be able to get a few of the LA boys to fly in with him.”
“Roger that,” I say, running a hand through my hair and watching Stella walk back into the living area in a pair of blue jeans, white shirt, and navy cashmere sweater. She holds a coat in her arms.
We end the call, and I lock the door behind me as I head back into the penthouse. Stella smiles at me, and I can’t help but think she’s going to be walking straight into a lion’s den.
Signing her NDA just got a little more appealing.
However, it could be the worst decision I’ve ever made.