HOT SEAL Hero: HOT SEAL Team - Book 7 Page 17

  Chloe had laughed. “Which one?”

  “I don’t know! It’s like having to choose an entree from one of those lists and they are all so delicious that you can’t decide.”

  “So take home a couple of them.”

  “Mm-mmm, now that’s an idea.”

  Chloe had blushed a little because she personally had no clue what you’d do with two men at once, or why you’d want to try, but JoJo sure seemed excited by the idea. It was shortly after that when the dancing and revelry began. And JoJo was right in the middle of it, urging Chloe on when she finally got on the dance floor.

  But oh, it had been fun. So much fun. She’d let her hair down in a way she hadn’t done in years. Not since she’d been a carefree teenager whose worst problem was hoping her daddy didn’t catch her sitting in a field with her friends and drinking cheap beer. They’d had a lot of fun back then. Life had seemed simpler.

  “Maybe so,” Ryan said. “But I don’t think you took much convincing.”

  “It was fun. Thank you sooo much for suggesting it. I would have never found that place if you hadn’t taken me there.”

  “It’s kind of hidden away on the Eastern Shore, though more people are starting to find Waterman’s Cove because of their famous resident.”

  “Famous resident?”

  “Gina Domenico.”

  “Oh wow, I’ve heard of her.”

  “Yep. She’s married to a guy who used to work with us. He invites us to their estate sometimes. It’s nice.”

  “I bet it is.” Chloe yawned. “I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

  “About three minutes after I pulled out of the parking lot.” He glanced at the clock on the dash. “Which was about half an hour ago. We’ll be home in fifteen minutes or so.”

  Chloe looked out the window. It wasn’t as dark as it had been on the Eastern Shore, meaning they were in an area with a lot of light pollution. The stars out there had reminded her of home. It was something she’d been missing and she hadn’t even realized it. She never really saw a lot of stars near the city, but she hadn’t stopped to think why that was until now.

  “Thank you, Ryan,” she said after a few moments.

  “You’re welcome. But for what?”

  Her face heated a little, but she didn’t let that stop her. “For being you. For putting up with me and taking care of me—and for knowing just what I needed even when I didn’t.”

  “That’s quite a compliment.” His voice was low, deep, and resonate. “I appreciate it.”

  “You’re a good guy. A really good guy. I don’t know how I got lucky enough to meet you on my first day in the neighborhood, but I’m glad I did.”

  “You’re making it really hard not to kiss you,” he said, but there was humor in his voice.

  “It’s hard for me too. I kinda liked having all those orgasms.”

  He blew out a breath. “Not gonna lie, I’m getting hard listening to you talk about it. But you know what? We’ll get there again, and it’ll totally be worth it. I can wait.”

  Chloe wasn’t sure she wanted to wait. But not waiting is what got things twisted up in the first place, so waiting it was. “It will be,” she said on a sigh.

  They arrived back at his place a few minutes later. It was only about ten-thirty and Neo’s car wasn’t there. Ryan unlocked the door and they went inside. He flicked on some lights, but Chloe stumbled on her high heels anyway. He caught her before she fell, and she clung to him, clutching his arms and trying to right herself.

  “Easy, Chloe. I’ve got you.”

  “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  She thought he was going to let her go and steady her, but he swept her into his arms instead. Chloe squeaked as she found herself pressed to his hard chest. He carried her to the guest room, then set her on the bed and bent to unbuckle her sandals. It was such an achingly sweet thing to do that she had to bite her lip to keep from crying.

  He set the sandals aside, then rubbed her feet with strong hands, massaging away any aches. Chloe moaned as his fingers dug into her arches. “You’re too good to be true,” she whimpered.

  “Yep, that’s me. Ryan “Too Good to Be True” Callahan. I’m going to ask the guys to change my call sign.”

  Chloe sighed as she lay back on the bed. “I think I’m too tired to change. I’m just going to fall asleep right here…”

  “You do that, honey. I’ll watch over you.”

  Chloe yawned as sleep started to drop over her. “I know….”

  The last thing she remembered was Ryan’s lips touching her forehead.

  Ryan spent all of Sunday helping Chloe in her house. She’d been so tired the night before, but she woke up around eight with energy to spare. He’d already been awake, drinking coffee and scrolling through his phone, when she’d emerged from the spare room wearing shorts and a loose T-shirt. Her hair was in a messy ponytail that bounced when she walked.

  Ryan had fed her another omelet—which she fussed over—coffee, and toast. She’d chattered about the night before almost non-stop. He let her go on, nodding and grunting at appropriate moments, answering questions at others. Whatever her tiredness yesterday, today she was completely recharged and raring to go.

  So they went over to her house and kept working through the boxes. By five o-clock, they’d unpacked everything. Ryan broke down the boxes into piles, stuffed the paper into trash bags, and made a stack on the back porch.

  Chloe came outside, glistening with a little bit of sweat but glowing with happiness. “Avery says I can take the boxes to the salon. There’s a storage room in the basement and she says she wants them for when she and Jimmy buy a new house.”

  “And the paper?”

  “Paper too, if it fits.” She put her hand against her back and stretched. “I feel so good getting this done. Thank you for helping me.”

  “Do I get to choose a reward?”

  She laughed. “Depends on what it is. If it’s a million bucks, then it’s a no.”

  He grinned. “How about some more of that strawberry pretzel salad stuff? And meatloaf. You said you had a recipe.”

  “I do indeed. Can we do it this week, though? The dessert needs time to set. Plus I’d really like for somebody to bring me a pizza tonight.”

  “We can do it whenever you feel like it.”

  “In fact, do you think we could get rid of those boxes now? Maybe pick up pizza on the way back? I’ll buy.”

  “Deal.”

  It didn’t take too long to load all the boxes since they were flattened, and then they were on their way to the salon. Chloe had a key to the back door and Ryan stood behind her while she unlocked it. She punched in the alarm code to disarm the system and they carried boxes and bags of packing paper down to the basement. Once they had it all squared away, they went back upstairs, Ryan following and watching her ass shake all the way up.

  Day-um, he wanted some of that. But he liked how open and happy she was with him right now and he didn’t want to jeopardize it. Not to mention, it’d only been one whole day since they decided to slow down. He had the patience, for fuck’s sake. He was a SEAL and not every mission was balls to the wall from the get-go. Sometimes you waited for days before things got hot and deadly.

  His phone rang as he stepped up on the landing. He dragged it out, happy to have something to think about besides Chloe’s ass. It was Viking.

  “Yo,” he said as he answered.

  “Hey, Dirty. Hacker’s found the skinny cowboy.”

  “Yeah? Who is it?” Because once he knew who the fucker was, they were going to have a conversation.

  “Robert Roberts.”

  Ryan nearly snorted. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope, Robert Roberts. Probably goes by Bob. Anyway, he came up in a search. Petty criminal. Bounced checks, that kind of thing.”

  “Pruitt’s a petty criminal.”

  “Sure is. Checking to see where Roberts works and if they’ve done time together.”

  Chloe was frowni
ng at him. “What do you bet the answer is yes?” he said to Viking.

  “I bet nothing because I bet you’re right.”

  “Where can we find Mr. Roberts?”

  “Uh-uh, man. Not yet. We get the connection, we go talk to him. Politely, which means either you agree to that or you aren’t going.”

  “I want to go.”

  “I know you do. Need your promise, Dirty.”

  “Fine. I promise.”

  “Good. Stand by for incoming. I’ll shoot you a text when I have something.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You said Pruitt,” Chloe said after he ended the call. She stood with hands on hips. “Does that mean you have something?”

  “A possibility. The guy who delivered the message to you here might know Pruitt.”

  She let out a breath. “Which means it’s probably him and not Travis.”

  “Probably. Honestly, I didn’t think he’d continue to harass you after the move, but it seems like I was wrong. Dude’s not stable if he’s the one doing this.”

  “I didn’t think he was stable then. The looks he gave me were creepy.”

  Yeah, Ryan hadn’t seen those because he’d only gone over there after the asshole called her doll and told her to stop flirting. Probably a good thing or he’d have gotten scrappy with the mofo. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I was trying to forget about it. I mean he leered at me and spoke to my chest instead of looking me in the eyes, but he’s not the first guy to do that. If I got worked up over every single one who did that, I’d spend a lot of time pissed off.”

  Jesus, what women had to put up with sometimes. “I’m sorry. I wish I’d known.”

  “Why? So you could beat him up?”

  Busted.

  She shook her head. “That doesn’t do any good, Ryan. Guys like that think they’re entitled to women’s bodies. They think they’re doing us a favor by letting us know we’re attractive. You can’t fix that kind of stupid. If a woman says anything, we’re the ones who are wrong. And if we don’t say anything, then we’re somehow encouraging men to treat us like objects. I just want to get away from guys like that.”

  “We’re going to get him, babe. He’s not going to harass you anymore.”

  And if Travis James came anywhere near DC when that muster was going on, then Ryan was going to take him down too. One way or another.

  “Do you think we could eat at my house?” Chloe asked. They were driving back from the salon and they’d picked up a pizza and beer. The smell was driving her absolutely crazy. She didn’t usually eat a lot of junk food, but she’d worked her ass off all weekend—not to mention the dancing—and now she was starving.

  Ryan glanced over at her. “Sure.”

  Happiness filled her. She was so in love with Avery’s little house, though it was probably more that she had all her things unpacked and she was still working on getting them put away. She would end up moving things around again, especially when she started work on the updates, but for now she wanted to live with her things in their places. She wanted to be settled for at least a month before she contemplated any changes.

  Ryan parked on the street and they walked up her driveway. He carried the pizza and beer as she fumbled in her purse for her keys. They were almost under the carport when the rumbling of loud exhaust pipes reached them. Chloe turned as an old Chevy truck rolled down the street, hard rock blaring from the speakers. Probably a neighbor’s teenager driving a vehicle he could afford, making it louder and more obnoxious than it needed to be.

  Ryan turned too as the truck got closer. In the next second, he dropped the pizza and beer and launched himself at her. Chloe screamed at the same time the truck backfired. Ryan tumbled her to the ground and curved his body around hers as the breath got knocked from her. She felt him jerk as she dragged in air. Then she heard the truck accelerate.

  Ryan rolled to his feet lightning quick and chased after the speeding vehicle. Chloe picked herself up slowly, her palms stinging as she pushed against the pavement. She swayed on her feet as she took inventory of her body. Her pants were ripped, her palms and knees skinned, and her muscles ached where Ryan had thrown her to the ground. She hobbled over and bent down for the keys that had gone flying, crying out at the sharp pain shredding through her. Somehow, she got them and straightened.

  When she turned, Ryan was suddenly there, limping toward her in the late evening sun. He’d fared no better than she had. But what had it been about? That’s what she didn’t understand.

  Her gaze finally settled on the blood soaking his shirt. “Ryan,” she cried, flinging herself toward him in spite of the pain.

  “It’s okay, Chloe. I’m fine.”

  “But what happened? Why did you tackle me like that?”

  “Somebody shot at us, babe. Shotgun from long range.”

  “Are you hit?” She thought she was going to black out for a second, but she forced the feeling down. No way was she giving him another thing to take care of. No fucking way. It was her turn to take care of him.

  “It’s nothing. Hurts like hell but probably superficial. I think they were using birdshot. They didn’t want to kill anybody.”

  Chloe started to shake. “Probably?” She slipped her arm around his waist, tried to turn him toward the street and her car. “We have to go to the hospital.”

  “No. I need to call Viking.”

  “Ryan—”

  He put his fingers over her mouth. “Shh, babe. I’m going. But it’s a particular hospital, okay? For special operators. Now come on and let’s get inside before they decide to try again, or before the neighbors do more than just peer out their doors and wonder if that was a shot or a backfire.”

  Chloe unlocked the door with shaking fingers and they stepped inside the kitchen. It took her a moment to realize she was crying. “Ryan. I’m sorry. It’s my fault. All my fault.”

  Ryan put his fingers against her cheek, wiped away the moisture. “It’s not your fault. Baby, really, it’s not your fault. Now let me make this call so we can get fixed up and get that bastard, okay?”

  “Hurry.” She didn’t like the amount of blood staining his shirt.

  He pulled his phone out and called Viking while she clung to him, shivering, praying that he was okay and not just lying to her. Being a superman somehow and staying upright while bleeding out.

  “Hey, Viking. Been shot. Need to get to Riverstone. No, not life-threatening. Birdshot. Hurts like a bitch, but I’ll be fine. Yeah, she’s fine. Okay, thanks.” He pocketed the phone and limped over to sink down on a chair.

  “I don’t understand any of this,” she said.

  “I know. But it’s going to be fine. You’re coming with us. Don’t worry about anything.”

  Easier said than done, especially when all she could imagine was getting to the hospital and then being told later that he’d slipped away. Like when Mama had passed. She’d seemed better that day, perkier. And then she was gone. Just gone.

  And Daddy—well, they hadn’t known how badly he was injured when they got the call he’d fallen off the roof. By the time they got to the hospital to see him, he’d been gone.

  It didn’t take long for a black SUV to rocket up the street and slam to a stop. Within moments, Ryan and Chloe were inside the vehicle. Then it sped down the street, taking them to a special hospital where Ryan was not dying on her.

  All she had to do was repeat that to herself until it was true.

  Twenty

  “We got him,” Neo said. “Stupid fucker still had the shotgun and the birdshot. Plus Bob Roberts, who was driving and claims he had no idea what Pruitt was going to do. He rolled over like a dog looking for a belly scratch.”

  Ryan lay in the hospital bed, patched up, pissed off, and frustrated. The doctor who’d treated him wouldn’t let him go home tonight. Dr. Puckett’s orders. She was the doctor in charge of the entire facility, and what she said might as well have been an order from Mendez or Ghost, because that’s how m
uch of a chance he—or anyone—had of disobeying her.

  “How’s Chloe?”

  “Shaken. She’s in for observation too, so don’t get your panties in a twist. She hit the ground pretty hard, so muscle spasms are a given. She’s on relaxers. She could have gone home but the doc decided to keep her since there’d be nobody at home with her.”

  Ryan swore. “Jesus. I tackled her, Neo. I had no choice.”

  “I know, brother. It’s what we do. If you hadn’t, she’d be the one having birdshot removed from her body. And maybe it would have done more damage to her. She’s smaller, less muscular. And she was facing the street.”

  “Yeah.” He shook his head as that visual crowded his brain. “What did you do to Pruitt?”

  “Nothing. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to. But Camel and Cowboy were there and they insisted we do it right. We found them in a strip club over on the seedy side of town. Mendez called in a favor to somebody and the FBI swarmed the place. Next thing you know, we had our few minutes to chat. Pruitt’s not getting out anytime soon after this stunt. He has a history of escalating violence against women and the prosecutor isn’t taking it lightly.”

  “He was defiant, wasn’t he?”

  “Oh yeah. Fucker’s living in his own reality. He swore he had a chance with Chloe until we showed up. Said—well, I won’t tell you what he said because it’s clear you’re going to pop a blood vessel if I do. But he’d deluded himself about her, and then we came along—you especially—and ruined it for him. We emasculated him.”

  Ryan lifted an eyebrow. “He knew that word? Kinda big for a dumbass like that.”

  “Yep. Anyway, he likes to intimidate women and since he had a restraining order from the last girlfriend, he just sort of transferred all that animosity to Chloe once it was clear she wasn’t going to, uh, fall all over him.”

  “Wasn’t going to fuck him, you mean.”

  Neo looked down at the floor. “Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Ryan swore. “I wish I’d caught him.” He’d tried. He thought he’d had a chance the way that old truck sputtered, but then it kept accelerating and he knew he had to get back to Chloe before they swung around and tried again. Not that he’d known who was in the truck. They’d worn ball caps pulled down over their faces. Roberts drove with a hand up to shield his face, and Pruitt had been sitting back so he could shove the shotgun barrel through the window.