Jackson
Chelsea drops her head and turns to look out the window. Maybe I said too much. At that point, I couldn’t help it. Spending the day with her, talking and touching, pushed me to my breaking point.
We’re both quiet for the rest of the ride. I reach out and touch Chelsea’s shoulder near the venue’s entrance. “Ready?”
The stunning woman turns, and I come face-to-face with the chameleon. “Of course, darling.”
The limo stops, and the driver opens the back door. Second nature has me scanning our surroundings before I climb out and offer Chelsea my hand. Once she’s out and upright, I place a hand on her lower back and steer us toward the door.
Chelsea’s pale dress glows in the moonlight. I glance down at her face, mesmerized by the stars sparkling in her dark-blue eyes.
My phone rings, so I stop to check, answering immediately when I see Admiral Jameson’s name on the screen. I show Chelsea and step away from the river of finely dressed people to take the call in private. As I walk away, someone calls out for my partner.
“Chelsea?”
I freeze mid-step but answer the Admiral. “Bennett, here.”
The old salt gruffs, “I’ll be late. We’re caught behind a wreck. I don’t want you loitering outside, but I don’t want you mingling yet, either.”
A suavely dressed man approaches Chelsea. I answer the admiral curtly, wanting to get back to her. “We’ll lurk at the edges until you arrive.”
“Carry on, Lieutenant.”
“Aye, sir.”
The man who called out to Chelsea reaches her and stands close despite her stiff posture. Chelsea’s behavior triggers alarm bells in my head, and I rush back to where she’s waiting. I come up behind her in time for the man to say, “Chelsea, I thought that was you.”
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be kissing ass in California?” she asks sweetly.
This guy seems to be bothering Chelsea, which means our cover is at risk. More than just protecting our objective, I bristle, ready to defend my friend.
“No, actually. I’m vice president of legal for the Denton Corporation. Our company supports this organization, and our CEO couldn’t attend the gala, so I’m here.” The prick shamelessly looks Chelsea up and down. “You look fantastic. You know, we would be married if you had put in this kind of work in college.”
The fuck? Chelsea tenses, shame keeping her frozen. That’s it_time for this jackass to go. I slither up to Chelsea’s back, ignoring the asshole. After pressing against her, I glide my ringed hand across Chelsea’s middle while leaning in to kiss her neck. “Sorry, my love. That was the admiral.” Standing upright and pretending to notice the man for the first time, I ask, “Who’s your friend?”
Chelsea takes a deep breath and answers with one tightly spoken word. “Trace.”
I experience a rush of thoughts at hearing the name, mostly torture, murder, and vengeance. My instinct is to attack. I’ve never wanted to more.
Despite his expensive suit and flashy watch, the man before me is less than impressive. Trace Newel ignores me completely and leers at the woman he once destroyed. The longer he stares, the more Chelsea shrinks.
“Oh. The limp dick from college.”
Newel fights to remain poised, and seethes. “And you are?”
“I’m Chelsea’s husband, and you’re leaving.”
Newel opens his mouth to argue, and Chelsea lurches forward to defend me. I stop them both. “Nah-ah-ah. We don’t need to resort to threats, sweetheart. Not when this man’s a coward.”
Newel’s face turns an ugly, mottled red, and I lean forward hostilely when he opens his mouth again. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to leave for your own protection. I get a little crazy when I drink, especially if someone bothers my wife. And you bother my wife.”
The man pulls an envelope from his breast pocket. “I’m an invited guest with a sizeable donation. It’s you who should leave.”
I snatch the envelope from his hand and rip it open. “Five thousand dollars from such an illustrious corporation? Please. We’re giving five times that.” The check goes into my pocket, and I lean toward Chelsea’s ex again. “Run along now.”
“Or what? You’ll rough me up?”
“Hell no, but I’ll stand guard while Chelsea deals with you. As Marine Force Recon herself, she’s probably killed more men than I have.”
Newel turns to the beautiful woman with one brow notched high.
“That sounds like a great idea, Pin,” she says, using my shortened call sign.
Newel’s eyes widen, and he steps back.
“Sorry I’m late, Lieutenant,” is spoken behind us.
Admiral Jameson approaches dressed in his class-A whites. “Traffic was a bitch. Is this a friend of yours?” he asks, gesturing to the man frozen in horror.
“This is an old acquaintance of Chelsea. He was just leaving to avoid a scene with me that my admiral wouldn’t approve of.”
Jameson nods thoughtfully. “If he’s bothering you or the lady, be my guest. As your admiral, I promise I won’t notice. Just wait until I’m inside to provide me with plausible deniability.”
“Yes, sir,” I say with a sneer.
The admiral disappears inside, and I step toward Newel. “Get the hell out of here with your pride intact. If you walk through those doors, I guarantee you’ll be emasculated publicly and dragged out by security. I can do this many ways.”
Newel sniffs and swings his glare toward Chelsea again. “You may have trimmed down, but you’re still trashy, evidenced by the company you keep.”
My fist clenches, ready to fly, but Chelsea steps between us and grabs my hand. “He’s not worth it, .”
I laugh in the man’s face, making a show of finding him lacking. “You’re right, Major.”
The military ranks seem to be the nudge needed to get the prick moving. Newel scurries toward the parking lot while Chelsea and I watch. “By the way, what was your rank when you retired?” I ask her.
“Captain.”
I laugh and turn Chelsea toward the door. “Of course, it was.”